The Funeral
It seems to me that ambulances are always racing across Amsterdam. I have noticed that I no longer turn towards the direction of the blaring sirens of the yellow ambulances with a blue band running across the middle. Perhaps, I have become like the Amsterdammers, I see around me who have tuned out to all the noises and bustle of a city much like I did in the past, to raucous matatus on Nairobi roads. I worry that I might have changed too soon, too quickly and a recent sighting stirred up these thoughts.
A few days ago, I saw a funeral procession and stopped to stare.
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