Chapter 9 Chapter Nine: The Art of Laziness at its Peak

So I took Sanji and continued to visit the market. The really interesting thing about Gambia's non-traditional market is not that you can buy chickens suitable for a novelist, but that the variety of goods is so wide that I can't help laughing. Because this market is located at the intersection of the city center and the tribe, culturally speaking, this market embodies the absurdity of capitalist fake culture. In order to do business with the rare tourists and the families of diplomats, a large number of goods "traveled and fallen" from the West are filled with it, including plastic dolls (unbelievable, I saw a small atom King Kong with a broken hand, and the tail was separated from the body. No one cares about Godzilla), lighters of all kinds of sexual intercourse (I seriously doubt that they came from Jiufen), Leli fruit drinks (fortunately, they haven’t expired yet), a lot of plastic matchbox sports cars, Cheap toys that McDonald's gives away with kids' meals.

But the scariest thing inside is several boxes of expired condoms. The packaging carton is written in Japanese, and a real photo of a prostitute in a kimono with half-exposed breasts is also attached. The shelf life is in Arabic numerals, and it says it expires in May 1985.It's unbelievable, no wonder the streets are full of lively children. I tried to find the mysterious shriveled dead heads in the legends of the third world among many familiar discarded goods (it is said that in tribal wars, the heads of the enemies are often cut off, and the seven holes are sewn up with threads to imprison the souls of the enemies, and then poured After repeated drying in salt water, it will shrink into a fist-sized brain), although I dare not buy it if I find it, even if I bring it back to Taiwan, it will be cool... But I always want to see it.

I found my great teacher holding up a rectangular frame and looking at it for a long time, and I couldn't help but leaned over to look at it. Inside the metal photo frame was a large black and white photo. A strange man with small round glasses and parted hair was grinning, his whole head filling the frame. Whose photo is it?A bit like the last emperor Puyi, but more like the kind of person who is nobody. "Teacher, isn't this the president of Gambia?" I wondered. I vaguely saw a jade photo of President Gambia at the airport. It was a model soldier in military uniform, decorated with medals and medals all over his body, except that he did not hold a certificate of award.And the ones in the black and white photos are Asians.

"That's a posthumous photo." The teacher pondered for a moment, then suddenly realized. "Whose photo? Which great Asian? Lu Haodong? Tan Sitong?" I asked, and the more I looked at it, the more strange it became. "One hundred percent is not a photo of a great man." The teacher said firmly. "Do it." I almost fainted. It’s ridiculous, a photo of a dead commoner in Asia will travel across the ocean to the market stalls in Gambia, what a good country that can sell everything!The family of the deceased did not know how to feel. Not long after the teacher put down the inexplicable and somewhat terrifying posthumous photo, the smile of the strange deceased was still hovering in my head, and a street performer who was performing endurance caught our attention.

Spitfire?Swallow the sword?A spear in the throat?Broken boulders in the chest?neither. This man had more than a dozen thin and long needles inserted into his body, and each needle was about 30 centimeters long. I saw him yelling something to the audience around him, holding the long needle in one hand and the tile containing change in the other. Can, screaming louder and louder.Of course I don't know the street performer's name, but what he's about to do next is amazing, so let's call him Chung with respect. A Western man wearing Birkenstock slippers dropped a coin curiously, then picked up a long needle in Ah Zhong's hand, and slowly stabbed it tentatively into Ah Zhong's left arm amidst the excited screams of his girlfriend beside him!

"Oh my god, no way!" I was dumbfounded, and immediately understood what happened to Ah Zhong's body full of needles. Ah Zhong screamed strangely, and let the western man drill the needle into his arm, and as the needle sank, he screamed louder and louder, until it was even a little shrill. Some of the onlookers didn't believe it or couldn't understand it. One by one, they threw coins into Ah Zhong's crock pot. One of the fat women in the west who didn't wear a bra picked up the needle and inserted it into Ah Zhong's thigh. Although Ah Zhong didn't escape Or fell to the ground and rolled, but the voice full of pain became louder and louder, and even shed tears.

"Damn it, does Ah Chung feel pain?" I hugged Sanji and covered his eyes so that he wouldn't see it. Then I noticed that my feet were shaking. "Is he in pain? Or is there a hama? Or is he actually enjoying it?" the teacher asked Jamieson. My teacher once told a real case in an anthropology class. An American SM queen published a book about her interesting experience of serving customers. Once she helped a gay man "fist", that is, she used her fist to penetrate the male customer's asshole, and slowly drilled up and down. , the whole arm was inserted in, if the average person would have been so painful that he would have been knocked to death, but the male guest was so fascinated that he asked the Queen of SM to continue to stretch her hand up until the palm touched the diaphragm, lightly Massaging the heart, the man reaches a wildly pleasurable orgasm.

I am giving this example here not to say that there are all perverted people in the world, but to say that all kinds of behaviors may make a special person feel quite happy, just like a carrot and a pit. Maybe Ah Zhong is the kind of genius who likes to be poked by needles! "Unfortunately, of course it hurts. They rely on endurance to make money. It can be said that they are street performers with no skills at all." Jamieson explained with a sigh. "Huh?" I don't understand. "The Gambians are not the most industrious people. They don't even bother to learn special talents, and no one teaches them. Even throwing three bottles in the air will kill them." Jamieson said: "But they are lazy. Guilaan, but laziness has made a name for itself, that is, it uses endurance to perform, and many tourists follow this routine, and they get a lot of money."

I was dumbfounded, what a great and awe-inspiring nation that is so lazy! Ah Zhong looked at me, I looked at Ah Zhong, the souls of the two sparked at the moment their eyes met! "Ah Zhong, come on." I almost burst into tears. So I threw away two shields, wiped away my tears, and took a needle and poked it into the "Dingdong point" (one of the top ten good points in the human body) on Ah Zhong's shoulder. This hit. I have to admit that I lost again, completely. During the ten or so seconds when the needle pierced Ah Chung's flesh, I almost squinted and my whole face was distorted. The fear in my heart devoured me like a beast, causing Sanji to fall from his hand.

"I can't take it anymore, I want to vomit. Let's go?" My face must be very pale. "Don't worry, help me take a picture." The teacher handed me the digital camera, and then happily threw several shields into Ah Zhong's earthen jar, and inserted three needles in total in the back of Ah Zhong's neck, Belly, and back. I think my hand shake must be very bad, 100% ruined the photo. Farewell to Zhong, before we left the market, we also saw a tall and skinny man standing on the street performing pseudo-hard qigong pretending to have hard qigong, and let a western woman punch him in the stomach, his kind Although the spirit of gritting his teeth and punching is not as good as that of Ah Chung who is being needled (being punched is an instant thing, while being needled has to endure the pain of slowly drilling and stabbing), he is still quite admirable tough guy.

"Wait, nine knives, your hand is shaking." The teacher stopped and looked at the digital camera in his hand, with a rather dissatisfied tone. It took me three full minutes to convince the teacher not to go back and continue stabbing Ah Chung. I said I was afraid I would vomit it out. The teacher was still brooding about this matter until we returned to Taiwan, which shows that she is really a ruthless character.