My
sweet slumber is abruptly interrupted by my blaring alarm. I’m quickly reminded
of my disastrous evening. How could a seemingly perfect night end before it’s
even begun? This sinking pain in the pit of my stomach is unbearable.
The
memory of Daniel’s smile is still so vivid. The electricity between us could
ignite an entire city felled by load shedding. The sound of his breath against
mine should’ve been my wake-up call.
Turn
shower nozzle on, turn shower nozzle off, and turn shower nozzle on.
Flush
toilet, repeat, disinfect seat, repeat, flush toilet, use toilet.
Wash
hands, repeat, repeat, repeat.
Undress
and step into shower.
Hot
water…. More hot water
Lather,
rinse, repeat… lather, rinse repeat…Lather, rinse and repeat
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There
she is, Manuela Rodriguez. Not only is she is vision of perfection but
her name arouses your senses the way a deliciously sinful, freshly baked dark chocolate
brownie does. As my search continues I
realize that Daniel and Manuela have known each other for years but somehow don’t
seem to have been romantically involved.
This
can only mean one thing. They are star-crossed lovers separated by
circumstances beyond their control and now she’s come back to take what’s
rightfully hers. There’s only one way I can overcome this obstacle. I need to
make a trip to Bree Street to see Dr/Herbalist/Magician/ Voodoo-Muti Specialist
Baba Ramayana.
This
kind of trip is not for the faint-hearted but desperate times call for
desperate measures. To avoid a hijacking, kidnapping or getting lost in the
maze of one-way streets in Jozi’s CBD, I must do the unthinkable. I need to
take the ultimate risk and hop into a taxi. Nothing worth attaining ever comes
easy!
Bree
Street, downtown Johannesburg. The air is filled with smog, stale urine, beer,
braaied mielies, a mish-mash of Kwaito, R&B and West African music and week-old
body odour. This is the part of the city that those fancy travel shows politely
exclude.
There
he is. Baba Ramayana! He’s not what I imagined at all. In fact, he looks like a
friendly, sweet old man until he turns to look at me. His haunting eyes stare
right into my flesh like a carnivore about to devour its prey. I make my
request and desperately want to escape as fast as my trembling legs can carry
me. Before I leave, his strong wrinkled arm firmly grabs mine and he whispers,
“uBuye again soon! Xa ingasebenzi no pretty boy, ndi zo’k satisfiya I
craving yakho.” (Come again soon. If it doesn’t work with pretty boy I can
satisfy your craving.)
I
storm out of the store and head back to the taxi rank. It’s now 16h00 and every damn taxi is packed
to capacity. I’m squeezed between two sumo wrestlers and all the windows are tightly
shut. I gasp for air then feel a series
of poking fingers against my shoulders. I can barely move yet I’m expected to
be the Minister of Financial Public Transport Affairs.
I
finally reach my destination almost forgetting my purchase from Baba Ramayana’s
store. I begin to mix all the ingredients then I remember that I need a
personal item from the stick insect Manuela in order for this concoction to work.
Manuela Rodriguez
Date
of Birth: 1982/02/03
Eye
Colour: Light Brown
Hair
Colour: Black
Interests:
World music, travelling, good food and wine, dancing and extreme sports
Twitter
name: @ManuelaRodz
Facebook:
www.facebook/manuelarodriguez
Email
address:MRodriguez@yahoo.com
Address:
Unknown
Car
Registration: FGH564GP
Facebook
News Feed: Manuela Rodriguez now lives in Johannesburg, South Africa
Let
the stalking begin!