Friday, March 23 - I needed a beer. It was dark (gets dark about 7), no streetlights, and I'm still getting used to this area but thought I'd walk to the local shop about 500m away. It was freaky. All these high fences and security standing outside didn't encourage me. Desparate times though, and I’d been assured that is was safe enough...
By one of the houses a guy standing out front calls to me. We talk, turns out he was cleaner-cum-guard, young, very friendly. We chat in pidgin English/French. His name is Fidel. He actually walks me 100 yards further on, which makes me wonder why he feels the need to do this... At about the darkest part of the walk, down the hill, a guy stops on his motorbike and offers me a ride. I say thanks and no, so he asks for cash. My heart skips a beat but he’s smiling a lot and drives off. Turns out he was a moto-taxi. I make the shop, a welcome pool of light. Oh yes, Amstel beer! More pidgin conversation establishes that the beer is normally 500RF (50p) but since I don’t have a bottle to return it’ll be 1,500RF for a 300ml bottle. Going back is even more scary, darker somehow, but no-one accosts me this time. I get back, quite relieved, not really knowing how dodgy what I’ve just done is. Every single person I’ve met is incredibly friendly, but I guess the history of this place is on my mind. Man that beer was good.
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