Today I was amused and pleased by a small incident. My husband and I went from work and I was thinking about two conversations I filmed on Saturday and Sunday. I wondered in my head what I said, what I didn't say, how I said it and how I looked. In short, I was full of doubts and convinced that it probably wouldn't be fun or interesting. It saved me from this self-whipping that my husband stopped by the roadside to buy some fruit. Behind this journey are only endless fields with hundreds of tall baobabs, which are already greening beautifully thanks to the rains that are in Angola at this time of year. It's a place I like and sometimes my husband and I go for a walk or just sit under one of those Baobabs and relax. When I finished my book and thought about the annotation and other texts for the book that were needed, I was sitting in these places, and this is where the photo on the title page of the book was taken. We were there alone at the time, perhaps only a few children were sitting by the roadside trying to sell the last pieces of fruit. Just as they didn't pay attention to me, I didn't pay attention to them. In short, we were all busy with our own.
Today, after a few months, as I said, we stopped at this place with a little boy to buy some mangoes and passion fruit. I didn't even get out of the car, I told him through the window what I wanted and he filled my bags with a smile. When I handed him the money, he looked at me, narrowed his eyes, crouched his head on his shoulder, and said, "Aren't you the lady who took the picture here?" I looked at him incomprehensibly, because at that moment I was thinking elsewhere and I didn't even remember any insignificant photoshoot that took place many months ago. And it never occurred to me that anyone would remember seeing a white woman taking a picture by a tree. When my husband responded and reminded me of that day.
I realized how little was enough to make me happy that a few words could please.