It was a sunny afternoon. My shadow was halfway taller than me (I have never seen dwarf shadows in Morocco, so…... We just move.) I observed my shadow as it uselessly followed me. And, for no reason, I hated it for doing everything I was doing. No doubt, that irrational anger could only be triggered by hunger. My stomach couldn’t help but kept growling. I was completely exhausted, yet another 30-minute walk loomed ahead of me. Desperate for a relief, I decided to board the tram.
The Tram was full, passengers stood on the aisle. Just a step after the entrance, I stood near a Chinese guy, who was hungry and tired like me. I could tell through his weary face. The tram rattled along its route, and our bodies abided by the law of inertia (an object at rest remains at rest, and an object in motion remains in motion unless acted upon by an external force.) Suddenly, a young man attempted to cross to the other side of the tramway when the tram was at its highest speed. The driver, in his expertise as others said after the accident, quickly slammed the brakes and the screech occupied the air. Heads collided against each other, some fell very badly, and that was the beginning of chaos.
The Chinese man, who I'd seriously knocked on his head, could not stop complaining. I told him I was sorry, but he couldn't bear the pain. He was constantly touching his round head, still murmuring. I heard him say "chang sing hong." I kept quiet. He continued, "ci haw Chang sing hong mi sawwhang." At this point, our eyes met, and he repeated what he said in a stronger voice, showing frustration and anger. I immediately considered those words as insults. Feeling defensive, I started speaking wollof" Sumalafi tiyeh, danga kham. Yabateh, ak sa beut yu sewww!" He knew I was referring to him, so the tension escalated. A fight was inevitable. But all I wanted was a first good blow in his face and people would separate us immediately. I got the golden opportunity and gave him a nasty slap. The commotion became more tense. Some of the passengers near us tried to make peace, some had already started taking videos while others didn't move an inch, as if nothing was happening.
I heard the Moroccans speak their language but the only word I understood was "police." Many thoughts rushed to my head. Since I was victorious in the first and perhaps the last round, I deemed it unnecessary to fight again but didn’t want to show it out. The Chinese man on the other hand wanted to revenge. He tried several times to attack me but was intercepted by the good peacemakers. I equally attempted to attack, knowing fully well that it was impossible. But I had to look like a warrior.
When I thought about the Chinese Karate movies, I immediately regretted why I slapped him. But I convinced myself that I could wrestle and would counterattack with wrestling tactics. A subtle sense of relief permeated my body.
The tram stopped. I walked my way out and the Chinese guy also followed suit. It was exactly the station he supposed to alight from. I wanted to board the tram again, but I considered it as a sign of cowardice. I won in the first round. So…
The inevitable round two began. He stretched himself, his hands and legs, showing adequate prowess in Karate. Every muscle in his face showed wrath--sheer anger! My competitive advantage was wrestling, I thought, so I wasted no time but rushed towards him. I held his head and attempted to bring him down. The Chinese man did what I considered a miracle. He broke free and held my right hand. I forcefully broke free as well. He later held my trousers with both hands. That was how he carried me up to chest level, then we both visited the hard concreted ground. I saw him on top of me raining nasty blows on my face. At this point, it was already 7am and my first alarm that I'd renamed “Homar Jogal" rang. I opened my eyes and saw myself on bed.
NB: Everything here is created through my own imagination, not even the dream is true. For the Mandarin words, you can search for their meanings on the internet. Perhaps they exist.
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