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Expat journey in the bus

May 4, 2011

The day was cold and fresh air curved and twisted the vision eastward to the end of the world. The sky was exceedingly gloom and grey. This fogy environmental atmosphere made everything looked pall  and dim. It had not rained for weeks. The short garden grass a long side the roundabout way, gave the sight a touch of harmony with soul and mind at the first blink. It was a winter morning shabby day. I looked at my watch it was 7o’clock. I was waiting for the bus on my way for a new long day of work. I had to punch at 7:30. Excusing the overriding duties ahead that day, and the sensations feeling that reputedly told me that I was expat, deprived from the love of  my country, my parents and my family for a tiny life reward. I spat speculatively. The spittle crackled in the air due to the freezing.

Quick and alert to get into the bus, I took off my coat and exchanged with the driver the usual. I gave him two pounds and took from him seat ticket and held my first on it. We knew each other because we met every day in the bus except in off days. I liked that bus. It started to be part of my life. I felt happy while I was in. The driver was Pakistani expat. He seemed happy that day. Probably he spoke that night to his family in Pakistan or he got appreciation letter from his department for respecting traffic roles.We drove to the industrial area where most of key companies took place. This area was known for its traffic density, especially during rush hours.

Cars had to stop at the signal nearly every two miles. Despite that cold time, it was pleasing to see how everybody was neatly dressed, groomed, stretched and ready to accomplish the day with hot running blood and determination. It was a defining factor of inspiration and energy. For me, it was an incredible feeling that people shared the same challenges. Sometimes I spent around thirty minutes in the bus thinking about the things that would be on my schedule for that day. How many applications and files I was going to process into the system? What should I do when I got back home?

I got off the bus and made my way to the company that was located few meters from the station. But I had to cross the street. Taking the lift up to my department in floor number nine, I exchanged few gestural mute HI’s with some people that I superficially knew. Before I got to work, I had to fix some things, took a look at intra mail and I took few minutes to take a cup of thee, It never tasted like Mauritanian version and that was one of the reason why I hated it. I had to put some milk on it so I could bear its  smell. Looking around me through the window the sun seemed not hurriedly eager to fad the frost that covered the city. Better off we were going to have a wonderful day. And I could see that clearly in the staff faces.

Four continuous hours later without a break I got through half of the piled dispatch. Sometimes I got finished more than one hundred applications . but fortunately my share for that day was nineteen files. Thanks to Allah, I  was able to satisfy my boss otherwise there was no excuse for me to stay in the company. I took twenty minutes with colleagues in the ward. We always discussed local news, sport competitions and safari trips. Much of our discussion focused on how we wanted to go on a journey outside to feel some relief of the unstop work. We had done that many times and we enjoyed it. It was important to experience that moment when you joined a group of different people with different backgrounds in a journey in the sea or on the mountain and back to work.

Frailty exhausted due to the long eight hours I spent in the office. I flung the trail back home. The sky was clear even from clouds. The sun steeped south but I could barely see it due to the frost that was coating over the towers. Back to my flat to find some rituals to take care of to push shoulders behind the mission of an expat.

Moustapha Ould Samoury

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