I’m not sure if you know this about me, but I don’t like people. I don’t like small talk. And I especially don’t like people who like to engage in small talk. The latter most often occurs with Airbnb hosts.
The boy is the social butterfly of the family and forces me to talk to people when I would rather sit around 10 other people with my headphones on and not discuss the current political climate in our respective countries.
What comes to mind when you first think of Amsterdam?
Windmills. Weed. Stroop Waffles. Tulips. Weed.
That’s what I thought. And so did my kid.
The last time we went to Amsterdam, he told me it was pretty boring. He said that Amsterdam is only fun for adults because kids can’t do “adult things” and Amsterdam only has “adult things”. He actually did the air quotes.
But he’s not completely wrong.
We are now in Tanzania for a conference and we had a layover in Addis Ababa on our way to here.
While enjoying my Walia beer and French fries at one of the restaurants, I noticed an alarming amount of people wearing surgical masks. Even some of the flight attendants on our way from Bamako were wearing them, in addition to gloves. I’m not used to seeing these types of things outside of our time in Japan.
There, people would wear surgical masks to not only avoid getting viruses and colds, but to also keep others from getting sick when taking public transportation. In Thailand, I would see people wearing them on their commute to avoid getting sick from the exhaust. In China we saw everyone wearing them to protect themselves from the pollution.