Fish bowl

I now know what it feels like to be a goldfish.  I went for a long walk on Sunday and ventured to areas I hadn’t yet visited.  As I walked down the road, people peeked their heads out of doors on the surrounding hills to stare at me in curiosity. What was this white person doing walking down the road?  The people who knew me would call out, “Hellooooo, Nobuuuhleeee!” [Nobuhle is my given Zulu name] Those who didn’t know me would call out, “Hellooooo, Umlunguuuuu!” [Umlungu=White person]. I would look up into the hills, not seeing who yelled at me but waving back anyways.  I can confidently say that I was the goldfish and I had hundreds of eyes staring at me through the tank.  I guess I can just be thankful that there is no way to tap on the metaphorical glass, scaring me with the loud thump thump thump…poor goldfish.