Samstag, 20. September 2014

Look, don't touch

Sometimes I wish it was the other way around, then again, it is mostly old men looking at us. And if I imagine them touching, with the same intensity they sometimes stare at us, I am glad they only want to look.
Here in ulan baatar things are different. There are not only old men staring at us, trying to read our souls but a lot of beautiful women. Well not exactly staring at us but catching a quick glance at the two guys with the huge bicycles (which look a little like we are collecting trash with all the empty bottles and things we just strapped on top because by now they are too lazy to stow them away properly) sitting by a fountain ,looking lost and like they were ripped out of their natural habitat.
I am not sure if I want to know, if there is something like pity in their quick glances or just the curiosity towards something, that doesnt belong by that fountain. (I mean everybody would look at a slightly damaged peacock in the steppe or a donkey painted in bright colours with a lazy eye. Lazy eye and damaged, because we have yellow-pink front wheels right now.)
Maybe they want to talk to them but are not exactly sure how they would react. (I for my part would not try to talk to that colourful donkey, it might bite or just look at you; and who would want to be seen talking to a strange donkey sitting by a fountain!?)
My favourite answer to the question at hand is, that they find these strange guys somehow appealing, view them as a possible adventure and secretly want to get on that bike and ride with them into the sunset.
They could also just be looking for the source of that strange smell and then be kind enough not to stare.
The soul-reading old men might have the same thoughts as the beautiful women. I dont know and it is kind of pointless the write about it at this place.
What I do know, is that I prefer the quick glances to the soul-reading stares. Not because i dont like being stared at, but because I like to steal quick glances myself. At whom, I will not tell.
By the way, tomorrow we will be going to the "miss mongolia" show.
Like two old men.
Looking, not touching.

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