Melissa's single-minded goal since arriving in Africa has been to hear live music, and last night she achieved it. Our friend, Vegemite, who we met walking along the beach at Lake Malawi, invited us to a jam session with Cheese on Toast, Samuel L. Jackson, and Chicken Pete. It kind of reminded me or Eeyore's Birthday in Austin in that is was basically a bunch of wanna-be rastas banging on bongos. I don't think any of them were particularly musically inclined.
At one point, Cheese on Toast decided he wanted to teach me to play. It was the kind of drum you sit on, so I was crouched over it while he showed me the rhythm. He kept putting his hands over mind to show me what I was doing wrong, like an awkward high school seduction scene. Which is was very close to being. Did I mention that Cheese on Toast was only 19?
And then it started.
"Shanno. Shanno. You have boyfriend?"
"No."
"I." He pointed to himself.
"I'm sorry. I don't understand," I lied.
"I boyfriend. I have a very good life. I have a lot to give. A lot. A LOT." He made a hand motion indication that "A LOT" was actually about ten inches. Was he talking about what I think he was talking about?
"Come with me out there." He pointed to the bushes.
Yes, he was talking about what I thought he was talking about.
I laughed, pretending to think he was just joking, and said no.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Just no," I replied. "It's not going to happen."
"Shanno. Shanno. Meet me at the gate after." Apparently, he thought that my reluctance to run off into the bushes with him was due more to my friends' presence than the fact that his was one of the most unappealing offers I had ever received.
"No."
"Why?"
Why? The reasons were endless. But there's really only one that a sane person needs to consider: the AIDS rate in Malawi tops 12 percent. The sad, sobering reality is that Cheese on Toast's life expectancy is about 42 years. Knowing this, I guess I can understand wanting to eek every ounce of pleasure out of your allotted time. It didn't, however, change the fact that I was never going to be the supplier of that pleasure.
"Sorry, Cheese, I think it's time for me to go."
He protested some more, but I was getting a little skeeved out. So I went home to my tent, content for the moment with the company of A.
And an entire colony of ants. TIA. This is Africa.
At one point, Cheese on Toast decided he wanted to teach me to play. It was the kind of drum you sit on, so I was crouched over it while he showed me the rhythm. He kept putting his hands over mind to show me what I was doing wrong, like an awkward high school seduction scene. Which is was very close to being. Did I mention that Cheese on Toast was only 19?
And then it started.
"Shanno. Shanno. You have boyfriend?"
"No."
"I." He pointed to himself.
"I'm sorry. I don't understand," I lied.
"I boyfriend. I have a very good life. I have a lot to give. A lot. A LOT." He made a hand motion indication that "A LOT" was actually about ten inches. Was he talking about what I think he was talking about?
"Come with me out there." He pointed to the bushes.
Yes, he was talking about what I thought he was talking about.
I laughed, pretending to think he was just joking, and said no.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Just no," I replied. "It's not going to happen."
"Shanno. Shanno. Meet me at the gate after." Apparently, he thought that my reluctance to run off into the bushes with him was due more to my friends' presence than the fact that his was one of the most unappealing offers I had ever received.
"No."
"Why?"
Why? The reasons were endless. But there's really only one that a sane person needs to consider: the AIDS rate in Malawi tops 12 percent. The sad, sobering reality is that Cheese on Toast's life expectancy is about 42 years. Knowing this, I guess I can understand wanting to eek every ounce of pleasure out of your allotted time. It didn't, however, change the fact that I was never going to be the supplier of that pleasure.
"Sorry, Cheese, I think it's time for me to go."
He protested some more, but I was getting a little skeeved out. So I went home to my tent, content for the moment with the company of A.
And an entire colony of ants. TIA. This is Africa.
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