Continued from page 1
“Ah, it’s your lucky day! A lucky day for a lucky, special lady – what model do you have?” Silently, I hold up my phone. “Look, I have just
thing! These are originals too, will last for ages. But this model is pretty rare – I’ll give you two for a very special price and then you won’t have to worry. You’ll always have a back-up!”
“Um, well they’re very nice. How much are they?” I don’t actually want one of his hands-free kits, but I don’t want to be rude. I sneak a look at traffic light, willing it to turn green. It stays resolutely red.
“Cheap-cheap! Just sixty rands each – normally they are eighty!”
“Oh…” When will light change? Nothing is happening. “Um, I’m really sorry but I don’t think I’ll get one today.”
“Cheaper? You want cheaper? Fifty rands – very good price!”
I shake my head. “Honestly, I’m not going to buy one. I…” This is moment of truth, when he will turn, or swear at me. “I don’t want one, thank you.”
He grins again. A huge smile spreads across his face.
“No worries, special girl. Maybe tomorrow?”
He winks at me and moves on to next car as lights turn green and traffic starts to move. I smile back, thinking how that grin has made my day.
Looking at that painting of smiling woman, on a grim day in Europe, all I could think of was way her eyes reminded me of smiling eyes of so many South Africans.
Every smile that has been imprinted in my memory is a hundred-mile smile. It’s those hundred-mile smiles that keep me going when I travel in Europe, where smiling at people sometimes seems to single you out at a freak.
African smiles – what I wouldn’t do for more of them.
