The Kenya i love 2(the return)

(conversations are translated from Swahili)

Kenya will never cease to amaze me. I had to go to the police station to report the theft of my drivers license. Below is how the saga unfolded:

I'm walking towards the police station after seeing a sign on the road that said "Gigiri Police station this way---->. Diplomatic Police Station this way--->) "Gigiri" is the name of the area near where i live, which is also the head office of the UN probably why the diplomatic police is located in the same area.

The first building i come across is the Diplomatic Police station and i am genuinely amazed. The road is in cement tiles, the walls are freshly painted, it has an automatic gate entry point possibly for security purposes: this place is spiff. Across the fence of the Diplomatic police station is this rundown stone building with dust all over the walls and a door that is open probably because it can't close well. This building is the Gigiri police station, where i am supposed to go.

I walk through the open gate to find a hawker selling pirated DVDs to a lady in police uniform (yes, the irony is ridiculous). I walk passed the pair and come across two other uniformed ladies basking in the sun on either side of the police station entrance. They must have been off duty so i decide not to disturb them but just as i am walking passed one of them stops me:

Ladycop1: Yes, may i help you? (not moving from the pillar she was leaning against)
Kevin: I've come to report that my drivers license was stolen.
Ladycop1:(not very pleased that she has to leave her comfortable position) Where did you lose it?
*This is the first question the police ask you before you report anything. Why? Coz if the event happened elsewhere you have to report it at the closest polices station to that point. Which meant that if i had not lost my license in the vicinity she would have sent me to another station and resumed her 'break'. Sadly for her this was not the case, i was at the right station.
Ladycop1: (after i tell her where i lost it, she leads the way into the station) Come with me.

She starts to rummage through the reception desk looking for a pen as i occupy myself reading the signs on the notice board on one of the walls stating how much it costs for whatever it was you are reporting, e.g. 50 shillings for a lost drivers license abstract and 100 shillings for a lost identification card abstract.
Ladycop1: (to ladycop2) Do you have a pen? I can't find a pen in this desk.
Ladycop2: No, there was one there earlier. (she resumes going through the assortment of fake dvds. The hawker has got another customer. Booming business at the police station)
At this point a male police officer who must have been head of something walks across the room.
Ladycop1:(to malecop) Afande, (name of respect given to male cops) do you have a pen?
Malecop: (After a brief moment of feeling his pockets) No.
Ladycop1: (Turning to me) Do you have a pen?
Kevin: No.
Ladycop1: That's alright I've found one. Come closer. (I approach the desk)

She asks me for some of my details, name, residence and when she comes to phone number i am stumped coz i have only just got a new Kenyan number and i don't know what it is. I check my phone because i normally save my number there but i remember i had switched phones and i didn't have it. Seeing as i could not go into a ramble of how i have a new number and can't remember i take the risk of looking like a very spoilt brat and call one of my friends and tell them to send my number to me.

Ladycop1: (obviously not impressed) You don't know your number? (i shake my head)
She continues to write the report. Totally ignoring my presence she finishes the report as i get the message with my number in it. She writes down the reference number on the corner of a newspaper and hands it to me.
Ladycop1: Here's your reference number, don't lose it. You'll need to take that to the Traffic office so they can give you an abstract.
I fold the strip of paper and put it in my back pocket grateful that the first step was done without being asked for a bribe.

...to be continued

The Kenya i love 1(part un)

(note all conversations are translated from Swahili)
A fair few adventures have already befallen me on my one week here. I'll start at the airport where i managed to successfully smuggle samurai swords right under the customs official's nose....well....he asked.
Customs: Passport please.
Customs:(after pretending to scrutinize my picture) Where you coming from kid? ("umetoka wapi kijana")
Kev:(sweating profusely hoping he doesn't notice the 4 foot long box on my luggage) Australia.
Customs: (smiling) Really? (looking at something else on my passport) How is the kangaroo meat?
Kev: Don't know, i haven't had any.
Customs: Aah! Why not?
Kev: It's the reason i came home. All i need is goat meat over Christmas and I'm fine.
Customs: (Laughs heartily and then becomes unnecessarily serious, the change in attitude was worthy of a TV sitcom) What's in here? (pointing at the box while handing me my passport)
Kev: Samurai swords.
Customs: (not letting go of my passport. Now I'm worried) What?!
Kev: (my shirt has now changed from a light blue to a navy blue due to the amount of sweat)Display samurai swords.
Customs: Oh, OK. You can pass.

Sweet, next time it's AK-47s

So long, farewell

Today was Gloria's last day in Perth, work won't be the same without her sense of humour and amazing manchester accent. I started off my day at work hoping to get a chance to sit next to her because it was her last day but it seemed everyone else was a step ahead of me. Luckily, she promised she'd move next to me when she changed jobs so i went to sit next to my other good friend Lulu (who has recently developed a mental condition that convinces her she is getting too fat...which is false i think she looks perfect).
I sat down and Lulu wasted no time:
Lulu: Such a user Kev, you walk off looking to sit next to Gloria and come back for the next best thing when you can't get a spot! (You have to understand, Lulu's a bit eccentric and goes crazy over such issues, as the rest of our conversation will show. What's even weirder is the fact that she had suggested i go look for a spot next to Gloria in he first place. ANYWAY...)
Lulu: I told my mum about the glass of water you gave me on Saturday (Saturday was 4 days ago and i still haven't heard the end of the pseudo-cold water i gave her)
Kev: The water was cold! I only added a bit of room-temperature water so it doesn't hurt your teeth when you drink it.
Lulu: Whatever Kev (i love Lulu because she never says these things in bad taste, always playing around.)

I decide to tell Lulu about this article i saw on the news today.
Kev: Guess what i saw on the news today.
Lulu: what?
Kev: Scientists have decided to stop wasting time and have focused their efforts into serious research that will help humanity: they have discovered that women with larger hips are more intelligent.
Lulu: I saw that, i think it's bullshit.
Kev: Apparently having a low waist to hip ratio means the lady is smart and her children will be smart as well.
Lulu: You reckon that's true?
Kev: If it is then we have fucking genius women in Africa.

*****

An hr into the insanely actionless adventure called work, Gloria comes and takes the spot next to me. I am elated.
Kev: Yay! Gloria's here. I'm chuffed.
Gloria: Chuffed?
Kev: Yes, chuffed. Now that you are here we can all be gay.
Gloria: Yeah, let's all get gay.
Lulu:(from my right) Let's all get what?
Kev: Gloria and i are getting gay, wanna join us?
Lulu: You're getting gay? Like happy gay?
Kev: Yes. (to Gloria) Are you gay?
Gloria: Couldn't be gayer. Are you gay?
Kev: Very.
Gloria:(seriously now) No, really, are you gay? (Now this question has been asked of me a bit too often and i am beginning to get worried.)
Kev: I am gay, but i am not homosexual.
Gloria: Good, now that that's cleared up...Let's get gay.

A few minutes after attempting to get a survey Gloria notices my sketch pad in front of me.
Gloria: (taking the pad) Can i draw you something?
Kev: Sure, i'd love that. It can be my souvenir. And then i'll draw a picture for you. (I take her diary as she proceeds to draw a flower in field for me.)

(After some time i have a rough sketch of me with my hand outstretched on her diary)
Gloria: Are you drawing a picture of you holding your penis?
Kev: No. That was my initial thought but i realised i don't have enough paper to work with.
Gloria: (laughing) Maybe you can attach an A3 onto the end and use that.
Kev: (while creating he texture of my hair) There's too much space here for me to fill in.
Gloria: That's what he said!
Kev:(laughing) I think i'll just stop colouring it, besides it's not quantity, it's quality that matters.
Gloria: Is that what you tell all the girls?

(I decide to go get my fav at-work drink, a glass of milk with Milo heaped on top. I come back to sit down only to realise i only have so much time to finish this drawing before we have to leave and go home so i ask Gloria to stir my Milo for me as i finished the drawing)
Gloria: (really giving the Milo a beating) It's cold, it'll never dissolve.
Kev: (taking the milo away) Gosh! Give it here. You have no skills, all it needs is a little gentle prodding.
Gloria and Kev together: That's what she said!(we both laugh)
Gloria: He said that to me and look at me now, a little gentle prodding and i now i'm six weeks pregnant.

At this point Lorely has come to sit next to me after Lulu left. She's the best. A really good friend who is obsessed with rabbits.
Gloria:I don't understand how you drink Milo, i hate the taste of it.
Kev: Are you kidding me? It's the best drink you can have here.
Gloria: It's horrible. It's like beige. If beige was a drink, it would be Milo. Neither here nor there.
(Lorely and I can't handle that, we burst out laughing).

*****

Lorely: I'm gonna go look at Jupiter today.
Kev: Where?
Lorely: At home i have a telescope there. It's the red spot right next to the moon and if you look at it on a clear night you can see that black spot right in front of it. Looks really cool.
Kev: Red spot? I thought Mars was the red planet near the moon.
Gloria: It's Uranus.
Kev: I love Uranus.
Gloria: I love Uranus to.
Lorely: How do you know what it looks like?
Gloria: The wall between the Mens' room and the Ladies has a hole in the wall and i peeked through it. Saw Uranaus.
Kev: There's no hole in the women's toilet, i know coz i've been there.

And it was 8:30pm time to say goodbye to Gloria for the last time. I'll miss the silly conversations i had with her.

As bald as a baby's backside

(I want to dedicate this post to all those similes that i was forced to cram in primary school and have never really got a chance to use them. You know what i am talking about, how many times have you said i ran 'as fast as a cheetah' after you left primary school. The time is now.)

I recently proved that i am as strong as an ox when i went 60 hours without sleep as i put the finishing touches on my uni assignments. I was as busy as a bee between Wednesday 10am and Friday 10pm... well... until Friday 8pm at least, i added the other 2 hours simply because 58hrs awake didn't sound as good as 60 hours awake. Besides trying to break records, i went through several experiences that were worth blogging about.

Firstly, there was my trip to uni at 9:45 am on friday for my 10:00am class. Despite my brain function being as dead as a dodo, i wanted to be punctual. I was sitting next to the window because i had the idea that if i kept my mind busy reading everything in site outside the window i'd be able to stay awake. At the first stop, an elderly man came to sit next to me, little did he know what he was about to experience. 7 minutes into the ride the sleep is as quick as lightning in taking over my body and i begin to slump towards the tempting, cushiony shoulder that awaited me on my left. I manage to get a hold of the situation stop myself only about 1 inch from resting my head on the elderly mans shoulder. I wonder if it would have been easier to explain my predicament if i had actually rested my head on his shoulder and waited for him to wake me up so i could explain myself, than to get so close to him and then suddenly jump upright. I did not bother to think about that at the moment because my attention was grabbed by something particularly interesting outside the window. Out of the corner of my eye i still managed to see the look of shock the old man gave me before i turned away.

I got to class without any further incidents and that's where i learnt that i was supposed to be handing in a paper folio as well. Since i did not have it with me, it meant that i had to act as cunningly as fox by telling my lecturer that i left it at home and that i'd be wiling to go back home and get it to her within the hour. She accepted my excuses (mostly because she's nice not because she's stupid) and i was back at the bus stop: standing so i can make sure i do not fall asleep.

It was here that i met Mandy, my supervisor at work, and we started talking about work issues:

Mandy: When are you coming back to work Kev? You haven't come in for a number of days.
Kev: Yeah, i've been busy trying to put together the final touches to my uni work.
Mandy:(ever polite) and how's that going? Are you almost done?
Kev: Sort of, just realised i had to hand in something i didn't have with me so i'm going back home...

I trail off at that point because i realise i am standing at the bus stop and everyone is staring at me. It appears that my supervisor was never at the bus stop so it seems i had done what was once thought impossible and fallen asleep while standing. I don't blame the other commuters for thinking i was as crazy as loon.

I got home without any further incedent, came back to uni, handed in assignment number 2 and started working on my other 2 assignments, my website and my designed user interface. I hand in my interface in time but the uni computers did not seem to appreciate that my patience was on a leash as short as a hammer. The computers in uni are set so that if you log out, it erases all the work on the desktop. I finished my work and i stood up to stretch my muscles that were as tight as a drum when my leg pulls out the computers power cable hence erasing all my work. I started my touch up again in disgust and painstakingly repeated my work after e-mailing my lecturer to tell him it will be an hr late.

At 8pm i am back home, as hungry as a wolf, after disowning all my friends who had gone on a drinking spree to celebrate the end of second year. This is when i decide that 58 hrs is not enough so i get a pizza and put off sleep for another 2 hours. At 10pm i am as happy as a lark to hit the bed like a sack of rocks and hibernate for 16 hrs. Needless to say i woke up as fresh as a daisy on Saturday.

gay umbrellas and goody goodys

It began as a day that seemed to be destined for failure. I woke up two hours later than i was supposed to and hence was 2 hours late for my classes in uni. My lecturer didn't seem to mind my late entrance so i was happy i had got away with it.

It was in this class that i discovered Australia's version of PATCO (a sweet that i go ga-ga about in Kenya that is basically sugar compacted into a round shape) when my classmate whipped out a bag of the stuff and handed them to the rest of the class. The diabetes inducing candy melted in my mouth bringing back fond memories and i forgot about the terrible morning.

This moment of elation only lasted until my next class when my other lecturer proceeded to decimate my work hence sending me into panic mode because all my uni work is due on Friday 2nd November which was only a week away. At the end of the class I decided to take the 'constructive criticism' in my stride as i dashed in the rain towards my bus which i would definitely miss if i wasted anymore time and being late for work was not one of the things i wanted to add to my day.

Mid-drenching i remembered that i had my trusty pink umbrella in my bag. Not surprisingly, i decided to run the few 100meters to the bus without brandishing my ultra-gay umbrella. I'd rather have got a bit wet than had to withstand the dozens of staring eyes i would have received had i boarded the bus holding it. The bus is in site and i pick up the pace just to make sure that i don't miss it. I reach the bus just as the last person is boarding and from 1 meter away i leap like a seasoned ballerina through the door.

This is when my left leg betrays me and slips due to the puddle of water that has accumulated on the slick surface at the entrance of the bus and i am sent skidding forwards. Luckily for me, my soon to be embarrassing descent to the floor is stopped by the collision between my shin and the edge of the bus where the wheelchair ramp comes out from. I barely manage to hold my self up by grabbing the doors on either side of the bus entrance.

On this occassion, pride came after the fall. Despite the 'ooohs' from the passengers and the 'whoa there' from the bus driver I put on a brave face and refused to let the seering pain shooting up my shin show on my face. I tagged on and walked to an empty seat trying my hardest not to show how much pain i was actually in. This did not deter the passengers from looking at me as i walked passed nor the younger commuters from having mini-outbursts from suppressed giggles. Nevertheless, i ignored them and maintained my facade until i got to my stop...and then a little more until i got home where i rolled uo my trousers to survey the damage. It was more an impact thing that a cut thing so i was fine to go to work.

*****

After coming back from work i proceed to tell my housemates about my new discovery of Australian PATCO. Juan, Nyambu, Allal and I continue to reminisce about forgotten affairs with our favorite snacks from 'back in the day'. Some of the mentioned ones were Choose (some of the messiest corn snacks ever invented), Fudge, Mint-choc and goody goody which was some dodgy candy that posed great difficulty in the chewing department.

It was here that a conversation between Nyambu and i brought me to remember how my dad rationed our snacks when we were young in an effort to make sure we grew up with healthy teeth (something tells me that maintiaining a healthy wallet was part of the agenda). Juan (my sister) and i were only allowed 1 day to have snacks and this was normally Sunday. My dad was very prompt to take away our Sunday treats if we were to choose to have a snack mid-week.

I distinctly remember when my sister and i used to compete to see who would take longest to finish their snack/chocolate of the week. We discovered many things at this age. We found out that Chocolates can be eaten in halves. Half on Sunday, and the other half the following Monday for break at school. We also discovered that the dextrosol powder (the came in several flavours) had sweetness that was indirectly proportional to the amount of water you put into it. That is, the less water you put in the glass before adding the stuff, the sweeter it was. It became so serious that the glass was abandoned altogether and we resulted to putting 2 or 3 drops of water into the pack and waiting for it to spread as far as we could before we ate the powdery stuff. We were born to be good in chemistry.

Those were the days.

Chris Who????

A lot of planning to include the Linkin Park concert into my busy lifestyle finally paid off. It was a lot of missed sleep and a lot of compromising but it was all worth it.



The following takes place between 6:30pm and 10:30pm:



6:30pm

My sister, Juan, and i get into the car to go pick my friend Cerebro. It's a few minutes before we realise that the concert tickets were still stuck on the fridge. Juan prances towards the kitchen like a graceful gazelle to grab the tickets and we finally set off.



6:45pm

Cerebro is waiting impatiently outside his house. i don't blame him, i had said i'd be there at 6:15. The idea was to avoid the traffic that preceeds getting into the joint. I reassure everyone by telling them that they won't actually begin performing at 7 o clock sharp.



7:15pm

I am proven right. We are now sitted and i am deeply regretting buying these tickets because it seems there were 'standing tickets' available for the occassion. Odd that i had never heard of these tickets. I'm sure they were not available online.



Anyways we settle amongst the black t-shirt wearing masses. Not only were we a fair distance from the stage, but we were sitting in front of a row of Americans who had no problems with sharing their opinions with everyone. Granted, most of those opinions were pretty funny. They begin with talking about the essential techniques required for crowd surfing.



Guy1: You can't body surf with you shoes on, you know why?

Guy2: Why?

Guy1: Coz if they fall off, the first person to find them will just chuck them across the crowd and you'll never find them.

Guy2: Really?

Guy1: Yeah i remember this time this friend of mine was crowd surfing, and he jumped up with his shoes on...(yeah, we've all had friends who crowd surfed haven't we......)



The Burswood Dome is engulfed in an ear shattering scream as Chris Cornell, Conel, Conelly...Chris Someone takes the stage to do a set intended to warm up the crowd before Linkin Park performs...Needless to say, the fellow failed miserably at maintaining interest of the black t-shirt wearing masses.



7:35pm

Into Chris' 3rd song. I know it's his 3rd song, not because i was so enthralled by his performance, but because i was drifting to sleep during every song and only waking up when the music peaks at the beginning of every next one. Seeing this trend continuing for a long while to come i occupy myself trying to count the number of seats in the dome (yes, Chris Someone was that entertaining).



7:40pm

Chris becomes my favorite artist for the next 5 min because he does a cover for the song "Like A Stone" by his band Audioslave, only one of the best rock songs ever. But he quickly drops down the food chain and right back to scum of the earth when he does the next song.

"in your house,

i long to be,

room by room,

patiently,

i'll wait for you there,

like a stone..."

8:15pm

Chris finishes his 6th or 7th song, the crowd goes silent, this is it, the time we have all been waiting for......

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO. He starts another song. The crowd halfheartedly goes back to cheering him on. The night is progressively getting worse.



8:20pm

Guy 1 (summarising Chris' performance to a tee): THAT WAS A FUCKING LONG SET!
They proceed to give us a half hr long break for people to do whatever needs to be done. Juan and Cerebro go on to get something to eat while i wait with Frenchie, my workmate from France. After a few minutes of whinging about how much a waste of money this is becoming we start talking about the rugby world cup. He was upset that France lost the semi-final to England.

8:55pm

They put of the lights and the crowd goes wild. I'm afraid of putting Linkin Park's performance into words because i will not be able to do them justice. Saying it was an electric performance would be the understatement of the year.

9:45pm

Linkin Park have stepped off the stage and the black t-shirt wearing masses have forgotten about Chris Someone as they beg for an Encore. A great tension is built as the stage remains empty but it dissolves within micro-seconds as Chester get's back on stage to perform another 3 songs before the show is actually over.

10:10pm

I've lost Frenchie in the crowd but Cerebro, Juan and I walk to the car complaining about Chris' performance. All in good cheer, we accept that the concert is finally over and we can now turn our focus back to our Uni work.

10:30pm

Back home again, at the spot where i spend the most time, in front of Debra.

Discomfort,endlessly has pulled itself upon me

Distracting/reacting

Against my will I stand beside my own reflection

It's haunting how I can't seem...

To find myself again

My walls are closing in

(without a sense of confidence and I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)I've felt this way before

So insecure

Crawling in my skin

These wounds they will not heal

Fear is how I fall

Confusing what is real

Smack that!

What begun as a mundane day, driving around looking for someone to buy tyres from, turned out to be fairly interesting as i caught a bus to work. The bus's lateness was not a sign of good things to come considering i had just been told that my tyres are too old and could explode at any moment. Nevertheless, i got onto the bus and walked to the furthest seat right at the back and in the middle coz it seemed that everyone that commuted via the 288 route was on the bus and there was almost no space available.

The asian dude sitting on my left is leaning his head against the window (slacker! it's 12pm and he's already sleepy) and the other guy on my right needs to stop eating burgers especially on such days when there's no space on the bus and he is occupying 2 seats.

2 stops down the road this family of 3 ladies, a gentleman and 2 children board the bus. Child 1 is ahead of the pack and he leaves his dad paying the fare as he walks down the entire length bus looking for a place to sit. The young, blonde, green-eyed Australian boy stops 3 feet in front on me and asks (to everyone) "can i get a seat?". "sure", i say, seeing as no one seemed eager to reply to the young fellow.

I move left towards the asian dude and he makes himself comfortable on the middle seat of the back bench. Unable to control his social self, the boy strikes up a conversation with me that went like this:
Child 1: "My name's Curtis."
Kev: "My name's Kevin."
(Curtis's dad comes to the back and after taking one look at fat dude, he decides he'll sit on the chair in front and to the right of curtis)
Curtis's dad: "You sit there and be a good boy Curtis." (Curtis nods)

Curtis: (turning back to me): "I'm seven years old."
Kevin:(indulging the child)"Really?"
Curtis: (nodding enthusiastically)"Yes. How old are you?"
Kevin: "How old do you think i am?"
Curtis: "ummmmmm" (puts his finger to his cheek in deep thought)"26?"
Kevin: (smile) "No, but you're pretty close, try again."
Curtis: "27?...28?" (Clearly the chid has not learned the art of flattery yet so i decide to end his quriousity)

Kevin: I'm 21.
(Curtis is deeply amazed at this...really needs to work on his flattery skills)
Kevin: (deciding to make the convo a bit productive to the boys future i pose him a math question) How many years do you have until you turn 21?
Curtis: (takes a moment to count with his fingers... then shrugs) "i don't know."
Kev: "It's 14 years"
Curtis:"14...and how old will you be after 14 years?"
Kev:"35."
Curtis:"And how old will you be after ....25 years?"
Kev:(thinking) "um..46?"
Curtis:" And how old will you be after 32 years?"
(this mathematical challenge turned out to be an obviously bad idea especially considering that it was now questioning MY mathematical ability.)

The maths challenge goes on for about 5 min, with longer gaps before my responses as i struggle to calculate in my mind, until Curtis asks how old i will be after 2000 years. I tell him i don't think i'd be able to get that far and he asks me why. At this point, fat dude, asian dude and Curtis's dad all turn to look at me and i hope, for my sake, that the child already knows about death. I take the easy way out and tell him i cannot calculate that far... the dad seems satisfied with my answer.

Curtis:(after a few moments of silence) Are you getting off here?
Kevin: No. I'm going to the city.
Curtis:Oh.

Curtis: (looking all shy) "have you heard that song 'smack that'?" (he demonstrates the 'smack' by waving his arm across his face.)
Kevin: "Yes i have."(sensing another potentially embarassing situation i act fast)"But i don't know the lyrics, can you sing it for me?"(hah! tables are turned now bitch!)
Curtis:"No." (well, that was a short battle)
Curtis: "Are you getting off here?"
Kevin: "Not yet, do you want me to get off here?"
Curtis:(shakes head) "No."

Kevin: "Do you go to school Curtis? Or are you on holiday now?"
(Curtis looks at me in a way that says "what's that massive thing growing out between your eyes?". Clearly he hadn't understood me.)
Kevin: "Do you got to school?"
Curtis: "Yes."
Kevin:"Were you in school yesterday?"
Curtis:"No, we're on holidays."
Kevin: "When did you start your holidays?"

Curtis:"Um..."
Kevin:"Were you in school last friday?"
Curtis:"No...not yesterday, not last friday..." (Now, Curtis has not learned english to a level that he can say 'last to last friday' or 'the friday before that' so he decides to use some visual aides in order to explain it to me. Those visual aides happen to be his thighs.)
Curtis:"Not last friday (he smacks his right thigh), not that one (he smacks his left thigh)..."
(Curtis then realises that he has run out of thighs, so he borrows mine...literally. He grabs my knee and pushes it next to his and starts the explanation again.)

Curtis: "Not last friday (he smacks his right thigh), not that one (he smacks his left thigh) but that one (he smacks my right thigh)"
Kevin:"Ok, two fridays ago?"
Curtis:"Yes, are you getting off here?"

And indeed i was getting off here, as pleasant as the conversation with Curtis was, i had to get to work, so i wish him a good day and get off the bus, happy that someone brightened up my day.

Honey Mustard

A rib tickling 4 and a half hrs sitting next to Gloria Estefan (apparently she looks like gloria estefan) at work inspires me to finally write this blog. Gloria's an interesting lady from Manchester who turns 26 tomorrow. She has an amazing english accent and totally left me chuffed when she asked for Honey Mustard chips (sounds something like hone-E Most-d).
Conversation about where i come from in Africa led to Gloria telling me about her adopted goat in Uganda. It went something like this:

Gloria: "So where are you from in Africa."
Kev: "Kenya."
Gloria:"Really? Always wanted to go to Kenya. Have you ever gone on a safari?"
Kev:"Everyday. Some people call it 'commuting via public transport'"
Gloria: (polite laugh) "My sister goes on safaris in Africa helping out in charities when she can.
There was this time she went to Uganda and asked me to give her 300 pounds to buy a cow for some village."
Kev:"300?"(in the most kikuyu fashion possible, i whip out a pen and paper and calculate the amount in kenya shillings)

Gloria:"yeah, 300. But i ended up buying a goat instead for 50 pounds."
Kev:"Did you eat it?"
Gloria:"No. They use it for milk in the village."
Kev:"OK, so you own a Ugandan goat, does it have a name?"
Gloria:"Eric."
(My brain takes a few seconds to spot the problem here)

Kev:"Eric is being used for milk?"
Gloria:"And he's pregnant as well, they made a mistake when he was young and didn't realise that he is actually a male goat so i named him Eric but i changed it to Erica when he suddenly grew a vagina."
Kev:"Cool. So, since you own Eric, does this mean that the goat he/she gave birth to is yours as well?"
Gloria:"Yeah."
Kev:"So you own two goats in Uganda?"
Gloria:"Yup, i'm like the Angelina Jolie of Uganda now, they love me there."

This last statement gets me laughing for about 10 minutes.