Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Sorry I have been out of the blogosphere (shady word) for a while, but i got knocked down by a car.
So I am returning from a late night sojourn at a friend's place at around 11:30pm on Sunday night. Sundays are normally quiet but this is a particularly a serene evening. I am on a motorbike, here called Boda Boda whizzing through town. As I approach the last turn before I get into my neighbourhood, right at the Wandegeya roundabout- famous for having no roundabout or functional streetlights the rider tries to turn into the opposite lane. Suddenly there were lights bearing down on us with ferocious speed. I had an instant to say: "Hey dude look out for the car!!" before we were smashed and thrown into the road on which I was strewn in utter bamboozle(ment).
In the instant that all this is happening I feel the car tires screech to a halt and the bike go under the taxi (read matatu) and the crunch of rubber against steel as the bike is chewed up by the vehicle screeching to a halt. I honestly cannot say how I got there but I was standing away from the accident a few seconds after it happened.
And just as the vultures (read lumpens/hoodlums/vandals/scum-sucking imbeciles all rolled in to one) set in to scavenge the accident and anything it might have brought in (some blasted idiot left with my school note book!!- can you believe!) I was hit a wave of nausea. These guys were the kind that would knock you out at an accident scene just to be sure that they robbed a dead guy, you know.
I was feeling numb so I immediately call the venue of my last sojourn and inform them of my detour in travel plans. I promptly inform them of the feeling that I think I might be dead and as such could they arrange to see me just to be sure that I am alive.
I am now alive and fully well thanks to the powers that be and my O-ve blood.(its just super!!)
Which reminds me of a thought I was just pondering; how poor jewel dealers in Uganda are...
I mean like gold jewellers. Uganda must be the only country in the world where jewellers are poor. This thought was provoked by a shady calendar I saw in an office somewhere that had really plain pages and a picture of an Indian woman on it. So I am asking myself how does an Indian jeweler market jewellery made in China adorned on an indian woman designed on a paper printed at the cheapest place on Nasser road(a place where I hear you can anything made; even the ancient sea scrolls- if you can pay) to a Ugandan who pays with money printed in Europe without giving the impression that the Ugandan is inferior?
While everywhere across the world jewellers go on holidays and are always travelling to attend conventions or just to plain re-stock their stores in Uganda they just sit and sit and when they are tired they sit some more because the Ugandan has the art of jewellery almost down to a tee.
They have "Gold" for special occassions and then they have 'gold' for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.... The idea is that the you cant know which the real gold is. Is it the one that can stand the wear and tear of the mad house called Kampala and the fake for the special occassions because it shines so much? Or is it the other way around because the fake can fade and no one will know?hhhhmm..... My thoughts took this turn for a while and I was pretty convinced I was right.
I muse over this and in this state I asked a woman of considerable repute to enlighten me on matters in this regard and this was her response:
"You buy two pieces of fake gold and wear one more often than the other, that way you are always shining!" This Ingenious woman of kampala added, "That way we can all avoid wearing real gold. Its much cheaper"
Together, For the World...And Beyond
Friday, January 26, 2007
1.The taxi with the spinners is UAH 860- for purposes of saving the guy his skin I will not mention his last plate digit. However the most amazing thing is the phrase written at the back of his taxi "Katonda Talya Ngguzzi" which directly translates to "God does not take bribes." hhhm... what are the powers that be up to?
2. I found it very interesting yesterday when my friend was describing a meeting with his ex and he put it in very simple terms why he did not relish the thought of meeting her again. This was after we put him to task to explain why he had not said hullo:
"What, you expected me to greet her with an orgasmic aaah!!"?
3.An American friend once told me a joke I thought was very funny. Recently I repeated this same joke to another American.She has never spoken to me again. This was the joke:
Q: Why is Ray Charles always smiling?
A: Because he does not know that he is Black.
4.Then there was the really awkward situation where I went with a friend to meet with a girl who we invited over to join us for dinner.We get to the venue, order, and wait for the food. We get our orders and start eating. Then after the meal we are discussing coffee or ice cream. The guys agree on coffee. We get to paying the bill and then we all pay our respective bills and she glances at each of us intermittently before stating in the coldest, harshest tone I ever heard a woman use:
"You guys are not serious. you are also disgusting! I hate you!!" This was after one of us said , rather casually "We are each paying our own bill". All this aggression for a bill? The reason why some people's reputation precedes them.
5. Then there is the sleazy journalist who never stops imitating what she sees on TV and keeps listening to BBC to download absurd stories of how a man of Caucasian extraction was caught with a lobster in his underwear. So the Japanese like fish, and the Chinese smell like it, but isn't this too personal? I must meet her and question her as to this kind of reporting.
6. "You are stupid!", my friend told a mutual friend last evening jokingly in reference to a mundane comment made by the latter. The guy sits for second and looks at us all in the room and in a classic retort says:
"Stupidity is also a gift from God. Do not abuse it" hhhm... The powers that be again?
Chillin' in the city of Flavor
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
I have this crazy test tomorrow but I figure I'll make a living out of this bogging stuff so I wont need a job. So here are my thoughts on some of the weird things as seen by a Ugandan in Uganda.
1. the taxi with spinners on its rims. I was walking in the middle of a sweaty, day trying so desperately to find a replacement for my lost stuff and then BAM!!
right in the middle of the road is this random taxi with shiny new spinners on its wheels. It was so new it even had no plates but miraculously it was carrying passengers to a destination. My question is : If a car has no registration, it probably has no license or insurance, right? So how in the pigs of Russia do you let it on to the highway to carry pedestrians? huh?
2. The thief who stole my prize drawers.... this is still an issue for me and much as I hate to dwell on old stuff, i think this woman is somewhere having herself a good time. She must be slurping with satisfaction that she managed to pull off a feat like that. I am disappointed that she did not notice that of the two underwear she stole one was holed in the back for my days when I have gastronomic congruities to allow easy exit and the second belonged to Mark, my six foot 300 pound neighbor who had been locked out of his room by a roommate. That was how they ended up with my prizes. If she thought the goods I carry are a 20 stone size she now knows she has been screwed!!
3. Ladies who never stop trying to get you into the habit of spending on them.I am soon becoming an authority on this. Perhaps I should apply to Cambridge for a Doctorate in this field. There is a way ladies (no matter what breed or race) seem to never tire of trying to get you to mine your own pockets dry to furnish their egos. This is not even their hunger, its all about the ego. Examples you ask? Imagine you ask a lady whether you can buy her a drink, the answers are instant: no or yes. Though I often hear the latter more. Then imagine her asking you whether she can buy you a drink....
My brother stop IMAGINING!!!!
I am going to stop here and beg to continue this very soon... till then
If you thought being a man is hard trying being a young man... You don't even have the brains to work with!
p.s By the way "Per adua ad Astra" is actually like that not the Kansas state motto.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
..................(Through Hardship To The Stars!)
I am going to my best friend's send off and then some random guy thinks it is a good idea to send off my phone too!!
Yeah!! you may not believe it but my phone was robbed too. I am still in awe of the powers that be at this incongruous circumvention of cataclysmic events. Should I be? I don't know honestly. This is less than 22 hours after a guy wiped out my whole closet and thought it good to just not let me know. He even took my prize underwear so now I have to be very careful with the pair that I have so that it does not get soiled before end of day. I tell you I am living the life of a hermit.
Am sure the guy who stole my phone was a male; this at least am sure about. The rest is pretty hazy. Me seated on a motor bike chasing the matatu (public transport vehicle) across town does not seem to register at first thought. So I am depressed, broke, hungry( haven't eaten in close to 28 hours)
My friend has his send-off which is really a great quiet time in which we reflected about his stay in this Beautiful Shithole(Oxymoron? tell me a better way to describe this country) for the last 8 months. We shared of travels to forbidden lands, prospects of meeting on a street in Washington DC and some pretty shocking revelations. Witnesses ? Jackfruity was there.
And today in between trying to say goodbye to him and recovering my phone, I was in the throes of agonizing regret that I did not spend more time with him.
I mean what tribute is there to a guy who has been lost with you in a forest in the middle of an impenetrable jungle where the people start playing flutes of rejoicing that you are lost (probably in anticipation of dinner).
What do you say to a guy who has been accosted by a rat the size of a goat (for all he knows) in your house?
There is no literary expletive to even bring half of the times and memories made and shared to the imagination of the bystander.
The only thing I will say is that when an In An African Minute was born we never had an inkling that the idea would yield a character so bold and yet so strong.
GODSPEED AND JOURNEY MERCIES TO YOU.
May the sun bow wherever he meets you
May the stars always be resplendent of your valor
May the ladies always be ware of your omnicient charm
And to the ends of the earth, may you find that which completes us all.
Neither Harry Belafonte nor Jeffrey Sachs wish you as much.
Peace Out Josh.
Monday, January 22, 2007
You cannot guess what happened to me while I was posting my first blog yesterday.
While I was writing my maiden blog the imbecile came to my place and took all my property. My place was broken into and robbed.They waltzed in, neatly folded 9 dress shirts and all the trousers I own. S/He also saw it fit to take my underwear. So now I have to get back to my place early so I can wash and hang my underwear to dry for use the next day. This is what my dad calls a "coping mechanism."
I hate that the guy did not leave a note saying where he was going with all the stash. I intend to find the little son of a Mitch(i like that!) and question him in no unkind manner.
So goes my day of the week; a wonderful beginning to the week, don't you think?
I said if you can find a life to live more full of intrigue than Yours Trully's speak now or forever shut that trap!!
And you know why I was not in my place when the act of larceny was committed? I had gone to see this girl who was explaining(...actually she was asking) why we could never cut it me and her. She ended with a threatening note in her voice.
So am thinking that the person who stole my stuff was a woman....
Yeah I'll let that hang in the air for a while
Coz of the following:
1.some one trying to get back at me for a broken heart I instituted against her person at some distant time in our past.
2. Or possibly that girl whose guy left because I suggested that she had rabbit ears and didn't brush her teeth too often...was it her?
3.Or was it the one who found out that I told I was 5 years older than my real age and was willing to accept me as I was ......until my mom found out.
4, the more likely culprit is my most recently enstranged acquitance who sought my hand in enslavement (read marriage) but was told by a rumour doing the grapevine that I was a transvestite gay guy. The only glitch in the plan was she found out that I was at some point responsible for starting the rumour.
Have your pick but I'll have my money on Number 3.
There is a phrase I have been reciting lately:
"Never get too attached to something that you can't afford to lose it"
Yesterday I rued ever saying that phrase.
See you on the flip side
Sunday, January 21, 2007
.....Of incoherent speech and thought.
How many people do you know who in the course of one week live to tell a tale of a night at the police station at 3:00am, undercover detective work, a couple of odd propositions, an HIV/AIDS communication plan, all the while doubling as a student in the daytime. I have always had the suspicion that I was paranormal until recently when I had a rude reminder of this:
Doing the work I do requires the clairvoyance of a warlock and I should say here and now the tact of a spy.
The week begins with me trying to trace bags that were supposed to have come in from Heathrow London (sounds like a crappy 90's movie beginning ,I know.) The airport had mistakenly decided not to include someone's bags on the flight to Kampala. I am charged on the pain of death to find the bags and deliver them. I have to pull strings so high that I feel the airport is about to declare me anational threat to get the bags but I do. This is all after having an extremely embarrassing situation on Entebbe road in which a woman gets out of her car and prostrates before me; i wonder why. Oh she was in tears too!!
I walk up to this lady... cool accent, great perfume, with a sense of unbeatable self. I tell her:
Me: hi have you noticed that your red hair has brown roots?
Her: Did you just say what i think you said?
Me: what do you think??
And I walk away from her and then drama begins to happen as she realises that her saloonist did a shody job with her hair. i do not want to tell you what happened when she realised that I was messing with her,I still have the marks.
Tie into all of this why i love wearing black and you'll know why the Blogger's Happy Hour was a light moment in my week; excruciating as it was. I was nursing a lot of wounded parts and in mournig.
I guess the true proof that I am paranormal is that am writing all of this for you to read.
But kudos to you all!!
May we all live to see eachother die off.(A happy thought)hah?
Till next week