A different type of hustle and bustle. Not the kind you find in New York or Chicago. Not the kind caused by hurried men and women with brief cases running in-between subway stations and taxis. Not the kind caused by fast-paced conversations, screaming into cellphones. Not the kind caused by rude shovings and “watch where you’re going”s.
But it is the kind caused by packs of people riding on bikes after a 20-mile journey from their shantytown into the city to sell trinkets they had spent 8 hours making the past two nights. It is the kind caused by girls dancing in front of stopped cars at traffic lights and boys banging on plastic tubs somehow creating a beautiful symphony. It is the kind caused by yellings of “Sawubona” and “goeie more” and “molo.” It is the kind that makes your heart race in the most beautiful way. It is Johannesburg.