The air was sticky. It wasn’t even the rainy season, but the humidity felt like the inside of a Japanese onsen. The sun shone over the dark water, tinted by the millions of sardine schools underneath its surface. There were a group of three toddlers screaming and pointing to a kite in the sky, as one of the boys- the ring leader- repeated the same word over and over again, nodding and widening his eyes at the others as he did.
My sister and walked through the dirt-floored alley way of tourist restaurants and kiosks that opened up to a view of the ocean. There was a concrete wall against the water’s edge where children were playing. Beyond the walkway we saw women giving massages to European men at the top of a hill.
“Souvenirs!” we heard a girl scream behind us. We turned around and saw a petite, girl with a bob haircut. She was wearing a bright shirt and skirt and holding a basket close to her shoulder like it was a serving tray. We said “hello” and said “no thank you.”
Then, my sister uncharacteristically changed her mind. “Ah, well,” she sighed with a shrug, “Why not? I’ll see what you have.”
I was mostly distracted by the children playing nearby, thinking about how cute they were, screaming at each other in a language I couldn’t understand. I glanced over at the trinkets my sister was touching. There were plastic turtles, beaded bracelets and other things that looked cheap and frivolous. These were the type of products that you would feel guilty for not buying, but later would realize such a purchase does nothing to advance you attempt at a minimalist lifestyle with less junk. (Plus, there are thousands of reasons why not to buy from a minor!)
“Yeah, well, I don’t really like anything here,” my sister told her honestly. The child vendor resisted a bit, trying to convince us, then shrugged and walked in front of us.
Walking a few feet further, she had a trail of followers- younger girls, probably apprentices- and she giggled. She turned back at us with the other hand on her shaking hip, bobbed her head around and sang, “I’m sexy and I know it!” then promptly turned away again, laughing with the sound of a 50-year-old wrinkled smoker. .
My sister and I exchanged smiles and laughed, walking behind her with the sound of the waves against the wall.
This post is part of weekly series titled Character Tuesday, where every Tuesday I bring you a story about (a) unique individual(s) I’ve encountered. Like I always say, life can be good or bad, but as long as it’s entertaining, that’s all you need. This series is meant to celebrate our quirks and idiosyncrasies.
Featured photo: These kids in Oslob ran up to us and started screaming, “HELLO HOW ARE YOU!” Then a woman on the street had to intervene to translate more.