So Many Faces

Would you believe me if I told you that I am scared of people? Would you believe me if I tell you that every time when I find myself in a confided space with hundreds of people I can barely breathe? When I am caught in claustrophobic space with people my heart pounds really fast and I run for the nearest exit just for some air. For a while I never took interest into finding out the reasons why I act the way I do. I never considered trying to put myself in a situation where I can find out the reasons for my fears. Until today. Today I walked from home with an intention, I left my comfort zone with a mission to understand why I am scared of so many faces. I walked all the way to the most human clustered place in Johannesburg, Park station. Parky as many call it. And I when I got there, I stood there in the middle of all these bus servicing stations and I watched people pass me, I smelled their mix of armpits, bad breathe and shoes scent. My hair stood up with every bump from any other stranger. I got a chill whenever a man greeted me or a woman sneered. And as my heart pounded, I felt that urge to run for the nearest exit. I wanted that fresh air to breathe freely. But I did not let it take over me this time, I focused on my goal at hand. I had to find out why I was afraid of so many faces. Then it hit me. Every face I saw, young or old, male or female, Black, White, Indian or Colored... All these faces. I saw my self in every single one.

I saw disappointment in the face of a young woman who wiggled her head in disagreement. I saw opportunity in the face of a young boy who seemed as though he might be going to college or a first day at a new job. I saw sadness in the eyes of a school girl, and I did not need to wonder further to know why. As I apparently rudely stared at people as they pass me, I began to completely forget my heart pounding. For some reason I felt relativity in that space. I thought back to the moments when I use to be one of these people. I remember how I always walked in a straight line with no interest in any body else but myself. I had my earphones on and I always imagined things, never really caring about anyone else but me. I started to get curious as I stood there. Then I decided to take a walk and listen in to peoples conversation. Phones calls of rage or impatience. People always rushing somewhere. Some muttering nothingness. Park Station is a place of rush.

Have you ever felt like you have a crappy life? Or wondered how God could be so cruel by letting supposedly bad things happen to you? I use to feel that way. I never sympathized with anybody else, I mean after all 'why should I care?' Those people aren't worried about me. Yes! Do not worry about anyone, do not sympathize with anyone. But hell stop whining. You are not any better than any other person. We all experience disappointment, we all experience sadness. It might not be the same size or time, but we all do. We are all the same underneath. We all bleed when we cut.

You might be reading this and wondering, what is your point Yolanda? My point is do not walk through life ignoring people, because that girl who wiggled her head in disagreement had just been robbed of her phone and bag. That boy who seemed as though he was headed for some big opportunity, was high on glue, and that young school girl who was sad had just been fondled by some taxi drivers because she was wearing a short skirt. I also experience such moments, and at times I just wish someone would notice. I did. And I made someone smile today. So many faces and I bet you, you could at least make one smile by lending a hand.