It’s slow and quiet mornings, a generous sunrise in unassuming places while the smell of the world’s breakfasts fills the streets.
It’s diversity of language, food, religion, and culture all living harmoniously with each other, with so much religion on every corner without the usual threat of fear or competition.
It is multicolored shop houses and heritage homes dating back to centuries ago, still living in some shape or another. It is old, grand mansions now turned into guesthouses or “massage parlors with some hanky panky la.”
It is colorful words, each accentuated with a little verbal hug: “want to try this mama?” “Is good la” “o! where do you come from ah” sounds upon sounds. One is hardly bored just asking and answering simple questions.
It is quick smiles and eager young men who stumble over their words but still keep talking to you, earnest in their desire to show you they, too, know the world even if they can’t imagine ever seeing your corner of the world. All this while the older men who sit outside their shops drape you in that universal, aggressive male-gaze from which no woman can ever seem to escape for long. Hungry eyes roaming all over your body while you try to buy water.
Still, Georgetown is so much an easier place to simply exist, even under the usual threat of that unwelcome gaze. In a place of so much diversity, it is a place where more of us can blend in; a simple, beautiful luxury.