If you know what i mean...

Barbecue Mermaid

2008-07-16T02:21:00.000-07:00

I've built a small reputation for coming up with rather silly questions some of those being; "what would you do if you found out your husband of 3 years was an alien?" or "would you charge the government for your services if you were a super hero?". Recently i've been asking my friends if they would eat a mermaid and you would be surprised at the number of people that would do it if they were hungry. What's even stranger is that the funniest response i've got from this question was from a vegetarian friend of mine called Kurt. This is the conversation we had at work:

Kev: Do you like fish Kurt?
Kurt: No...yes...well i don't eat fish but they are nice animals.
Kev: Why don't you eat fish?
Kurt: I don't eat all types of meat. I'm vegetarian.
Kev: is it from religious reasons or do you not like the taste of it or are you an animal lover?
Kurt: animal lover, i think it's wrong to kill all animals.
Kev:(smiling) You'd love it in Kenya then. Coz we really love animals...especially with some salt.

Kev: Anyhoo, if the water crisis in WA deteriorated beyond repair and you were starving, you walk along the beach and meet a mermaid that dies in your arms, would you eat the fish part?
Kurt: (laughing) What the hell?
Kev: Seriously. IT'S FISH and not only that but it's fresh fish coz the mermaid just died.
Kurt: It's raw.
Kev: You don't like sushi? Fine there's a sudden bolt of lightening that strikes a tree near you and you have fire.

Kurt: i still wouldn't eat it. I don't eat meat.
Kev: but you're starving! i.e. eat the fish or die.
Kurt: i guess if i'm starving i'd eat the whole thing. including the human part.
Kev: (laughing) Thought so, YOU MONSTER. (now that i had got the response i wanted i change the subject) What do mermaids eat though?
Kurt: Kev, mermaid's don't exist.
Kev: Yeah but if they did what would they eat? I mean if they eat fish it's half cannibalism and if they eat humans it's also half cannibalism? What did they eat in "The Little Mermaid"?

Kurt: maybe they are vegetarian?
Kev: Not everyone's vegetarian Kurt, just you are.
Kurt: (laughing)they probably eat seaweed of some type of sea vegetable. Maybe when some ship carrying livestock hits an iceberg they celebrate by eating the cows that fall into the water.
Kev: Probably. They guy who finds them calls all his pals over for a barbecue. I wonder how they'd barbecue it under water though...

Along came a spider....or 10

2008-05-18T21:34:00.000-07:00

(You will appreciate this blog post much more if you had the tune from The good, the bad and the ugly playing in your head as you read it)
The 8 legged arachnid poses stealthily on the carpet. Almost fully camoflouged. Waiting for it's next victim. The humble creature does not suspect a thing as the large homo sapien life form moves towards it with a red can. A blast of cold compressed air makes the arachnid panic and try to scurry away from it's frost emiting adversery when suddenly it's tiny book lungs are filled a poisonous substance. The creature struggles to try and move it's half hydraulic-half muscle legs in an attempt to get to a region that's not polluted and fill its lungs with sweet clean air but his muscles are failing due to the lack of oxygen and he begins to panic.
The posion quickly spreads to the rest of its body. Its hind legs now dead. It keeps trying to drag itself forwards with his other apendages. The pain is unbearable now and his body topples over to one side. All legs slowly come together in a curled pattern to stop at their final resting position.
And the spider, once a free beast on the endless plain that was my carpet is no more.
A sudden influx of spiders into our house has made Doom our best friend.(By 'Doom' i mean the insecticide that kills instantly, not the computer game, the bad guy in fantastic four or prophet of) So at the moment our carpet has been aptly nicknamed the spider graveyard having killed about 10 spiders on it. It is a hard job, but someone's gotta do it. Keep the peace in the house by patrolling the corridors and elminating all threats.

Check out Kasarani.com, a new way to meet and keep in touch with Kenyans worldwide. You can even start your own blog on Kasarani! Click here to go to Kasarani.com now.

From Bangladesh With Love

2008-03-31T07:23:00.000-07:00

Having slowly walked from my work place i conveniently missed the bus that takes me quickly home and had to wait 30 minutes in the cold wind for the next bus. As i finish checking the bus timetable an indian fellow asks me what time the next bus is. I tell him half an hour. The fellow then tells me he'll go back home and then come back out when the bus comes.

It is at times like these that i appreciate having a phone that has video player feature and i sit myself on the bus stop bench and being to watch my last episode of Boondocks. Time flies by and 15 min later the indian fellow from before comes and sits next to me.

Indian: (just loud enough so i can hear him over the headphones) I'm back.

I smile and try to ignore him. I'm not anti-social, Boondocks is really funny.

Indian: (Sitting next to me) Has the bus come by yet?
Kev: (pausing the video, i decide to indulge him) No. (I take my headphones off)
Indian: Do you live here?
Kev: No, i work in West Perth.
Indian: Ah, you work really late? (I know it doesn't look like a question but read it again with an indian accent)
Kev: Just until 8:30, would have been home early if i hadn't missed my bus.

I make my first mistake here when i confuse his interruption for being very social. The small talk goes on for a bit longer and we end up discussing living in Perth. It's at this point that the conversation gets interesting.

Kev: (like i tell everyone) Perth is a nice place to live, it's just not for me.
Indian: Why not?
Kev: Well, it's a bit quiet and the people are a bit funny.
Indian: Yeah, they are very prejudiced and some are really racist but it's not that bad.

What?? What i meant was that the people are a bit laid back i have no idea how prejudice and racisim came into this guys mind. I'm saved from an uncomfortable moment when the bus appears around the corner and i stand up to get the drivers attention.

Now, as an artist i'm used to spotting the smallest of details so i realise that Indian dude has not uncrossed his arms since he sat next to me (second sign i should not have ignored...keep reading, you'll get it). I warranted this to be due to the cold weather but the guy stands up without uncrossing his arms which is a weird and unnatural thing to do. He then proceeds to walk next to me in the strangest manner; arms crossed, head tilted a bit to the right and pelvis thrust awkwardly forward. The first thought that comes to my mind is that he is a bit feminine but i'm guessing it's because of the tight jeans that are currently in fashion in Australia.

Indian dude gets into the bus before me and there's an Australian fellow who looks at him as he walks in (a natural reaction! People tend to be attracted to the doors of the bus when the bus stops). The Australian guy is minding his own business listening to his Ipod when the Indian dude audibly says, "RACIST."

Kev: (convinced i heard him wrong) What?
Indian: (giggling uncontrollably-which is the third sign i should not have ignored) Sorry, i say that when people stare at me with no reason.
Kev: (thinking, "Weirdo!") Ok, i don't really think he was that focused on you.
Indian: (still giggling) Most Australians are...Oh sorry my name's Jabir.

Yes he does stop mid sentence to introduce himself and it is at his point that i notice his stance which was the fourth and final sign. He has uncrossed only his right hand to do the handshake, his left palm is still under his right bicep and his extended arm is only partially extended. Also, his head is now fully tilted to one side and his knees are too close together for any man to be comfortable regardless of how small their balls are. YES! It hits me. Indian man from Bangladesh is gay.

The next few minutes are a bit hazy as i run the previous events through my mind and finally conclude he is gay. The bus gets to my stop and i gladly get off after the very short but very weird ride. Jabir finally convinces me of my suspicion by giving me the happiest wave i've ever received from a stranger as i get off.

Moment of Silence

2008-03-31T07:18:00.000-07:00

I'm dedicating this post to my friends.
First in line, my dedication goes to my workmate Gap who lost her father to natural causes this Saturday. She's a nice person who i like to talk to and hang out with and it hurt me to see her crying. I hope her and her family pull through alright.
Secondly i'd like to remember my friend Ali who died after getting swept away by a wave in Albany. It's terrifying to think that it happens without warning. One week i'm kicking a ball around with him in training and the next week the team is wearing black bands around their arms in his memory as they play a game. Sad but that's how life is. I'll miss his Canadian humour.

Back in Oz

2008-03-05T09:10:00.000-08:00

While walking through the university today with my friend Matt, we had a conversation i deemed blog worthy. Matt is one of the funniest people i know and he never ceases to amuse me so I'm sure our conversation must have amused the people who were walking behind us as well.

We went to visit the new Humanities common room which is conveniently placed 2 buildings away from our building. Only Curtin University can do something as ingenious as that. We picked up a magazine in the humanities common room that had a listing of all courses available in the humanities department and as soon as Matt's eyes fell on the course 'Anthropology' the convo began:

Matt: You know what course I'd like to do? I'd like to do the 'Indian Jones' course.
Kev: Indiana Jones? (i know how Matt thinks) So you can learn anthropology and still be able to perform acrobatics while retrieving lost artifacts.
Matt: Exactly! You'd be so smart and you'll also learn how to trigger a line of pillars to fall at exactly the perfect speed for you to jump on the heads of the pillars and exit a cave. There should be an Indiana Jones course or a Lara Croft course.
Kev: Maybe it'll depend on your sex when you enrol. If you're male you do the Indiana Jones course and if you're female you do the Lara Croft course.
Matt: True. There's got to be a way they learnt what they know.

Kev: Do you think chicks will have a "how to keep a sexy body while learning anthropology" unit?
Matt: It's all inclusive. I'd say it's about an 8 year course and you learn it all from the anthropology to the ancient booby traps unit to the how to keep a sexy body unit. Doesn't getting exercise reduce your breast size?
Kev: Not for Lara Croft!
Matt: Maybe she's a wet nurse in her free time to keep them big and active...
Kev: Maybe she is..

At this point we walk past the Theatre in Uni which prompts another interesting conversation.

Kev: When was the last time you went to the theatre?
Matt: Can't remember...wait! That's a lie. I went to see an Indian reworking of 'A midsummer dream..Midnight summer...'
Kev: 'A Midsummer Night's Dream?' by Shakespear.
Matt: That's it. But it was all in Hindi and it was done by small Indian acrobats.

Kev: Did you understand it? Do you speak Hindi?
Matt: Not a word. Though it had one or two random words and sentences in English but they were so random they did absolutely nothing to help you understand the plot.
Kev: How did you end up going for that?
Matt: My friend got tickets and took me to see it.
Kev: Is your friend Indian.
Matt: No Caucasian.

Kev: Well, it's good you got that done.
Matt: Yes. Crossed it off my list of things to do before i die. "Watch an Indian reworking of 'A Midsummer Night's dream' performed by small Indian acrobats." Maybe next I'll try to masturbate a camel while rolling down a Swiss alp.
Kev: While singing the Greek National Anthem backwards.
Matt: Of course. Though that might take some setting up.

The Kenya I Love 9(hit list)

2008-02-29T10:26:00.000-08:00

I decided to finish the 'The Kenya I Love' series with a cliche list of things you may experience when in Kenya. Here goes.

You know you're in Kenya when:

1. The policemen ask you to drive on when the traffic light is showing red.

2. There's a sign at the airport that says 'No guns beyond this point'.

3. The driving instructor who is off duty is found driving in the city while talking on a mobile phone.

4. The sign above the sink in a restaurant reads "Please do not spit or wash your face in the hand wash basin".

5. The fire brigade gets to your house 4 hrs after you call when you house has been razed to the gorund.

6. The government destroys your 20 million shilling house to build a road and then never builds it (even 5 years down the line).

7. When you ask for a glass of water at a restaurant the waiter asks you if you intend to drink it.

8. The price of commodities varies depending on your nationality, how you're dressed and the language you speak.

9. Receiving telephone airtime is considered a romantic gesture during valentine's day.

10. Police ask you to pay them a bribe so they do not arrest you for trying to bribe them.

The Kenya I Love 8(au revoir)

2008-02-22T13:10:00.001-08:00

It was an exceptionally fun holiday. It would be difficult to summarise it so instead i'll write the experience i went through on my way back to Austrailia.

The trip to the airport was funny in itself because i kept receiving calls one after another and my pals were sending hilarious messages on the network group-texting service. Once on the plane, the journey became even funnier. I had promised myself that i'd have a heineken on the flight which is normally a bad idea when you at a high altitude because alcohol hits you like a brick. Despite knowing this, a heineken was the first drink i asked for when the air hostess came by. the fellow sitting next to me seemed to be disgusted by my request and stared forward in utter annoyance over his humongous beer belly. Having flown a number of times it's not that hard to spot a rookie on his first flight. The man sitting next to me with the bad stare was definitely a first-timer.

As soon as he had sat down he asked me how i was doing and i thought that was a pleasant thing to do. It's good to sit next to someone social.

Soon after, the stewards were serving dinner and they only had a selection of wine and soft drinks on the trolley. I hadn't planned for this and since i do not take soda i asked for red wine (right after my heineken). As it tends to happen after taking alcohol i became rather giddy after dinner and when the stewards comes again asking if we'd like another drink i don't hesitate to ask for another heineken. The air hostess comes back to me and delivers some dreadful news: there's no more heineken on the flight. So she gives me a budweiser instead!

One budweiser later and i am laughing to myself after remembering moments from my holiday. My movie soon ends after my beer and i am a bit too tipsy to consider sleeping it off. So i remember my social neighbour and shake him up from his concentration (i think he was watching something) to ask him if he plays chess:

Kev: Hey, do you play chess?
Random dude: No.
Kev: (scrolling down the game menu on my screen) How about checkers, do you play checkers?
RD: What?
Kev: Draughts (other name for checkers)? do you play?
RD: No.

It's at this point that i consider maybe i was just being an annoying drunk but the fellow begins to lean forward as if he is air sick (HA! Justice, he refused to play games with me) and soon enough, he excuses himself from the seat and disappears for a while, possibly to vomit. Poor fellow.

We arrive at Dubai without any further incident where i sit down to write this post after discovering that the famous Dubai airport does not sell Absynth because it has too high an alcohol percentage....we obviosuly need some Kenyan entrepreneurs up in here.

The Kenya I Love 7(total unrecall)

2008-02-11T07:25:00.000-08:00

Being the smart person that i am i decided that since i was not driving last weekend i'd make sure i get really drunk. Which normally isn't a bad idea because i don't drink that much even when i do want to get drunk. This time it was a different issue. I somehow got into my head that i'd be able to finish a bottle of Kenya King and still walk out in a stable state of mind. YEAH RIGHT. Half an hour after finishing the KK i can't remember a thing. I have total memory loss between 11pm and 6am. 7hours of my life that i lost. What happened between those 7 hours will be mentioned on the blog as soon as i find out when i meet my friends again for the full story.

What i want to write about today was the conversation that i had with my parents when the result of such blatant consumption of cheap liqour revealed itself to my parents when i up chucked my previous nights endeavours in front of my father at the Tanzania-Kenya border customs office. My mother was sorting out issues with the customs officials and our passports so she never got to witness the horror that my dad did. My dad, however, didn't say a word but simply handed me the car keys so i could get tissue from the car to wipe myself clean. The conversation was picked up when we all got back into the car to continue our journey into Tanzania. Expecting to be given a lecture i treaded carefully. This was the conversation that followed:

Dad: How are you feeling now? Still feeling sick?

Mum: He was feeling sick?

Kev: (taking the plunge) Yeah, i vomited outside the customs office.

Dad: This is is why you should not drink on an empty stomach. (What?) Did you have anything to eat yesterday before you drank?

Kev: Yes i did eat. (Slighty surprised to hear the concern in his voice)

Mum: Maybe, it's coz he mixed drinks. Did you mix drinks.

Kev: Yes. (how much more honest can i be) I mixed a few drinks.

Mum: (nodding her head) That's why. Anyway, you learn from your mistakes. Next time you won't mix drinks.

Kev: OK.

I was just happy that there was going to be a next time.

The Kenya I Love 6(remixed)

2008-02-07T02:27:00.000-08:00

Amidst all the hullabaloo in the media about the rigged election, there was a story that i found of particular interest which was sidelined. The news reported that an extended family of 56 people was planning on committing suicide because they were unhappy about their level of poverty. The family of 56 has unanimously decided to commit suicide because they were tired of living in poverty and were hoping to bring the situation to an end because nothing could be worse than what they were experiencing.

I'm willing to bet that this extended family is religious and they were hoping for getter things in the afterlife after spending the majority of their lives on earth struggling. It seems like a very sad story if you saw the clip on the news and it would warm most people's hearts, wouldn't it? Was that what they wanted? Maybe they came up with this mass suicide as an attempt to get media attention (which worked) and then eventually get rich people with a soft spot to send them some money and end their poverty.

The story wasn't covered at all in the later days and the people who missed it the first time would not have heard the rest of it. Well, lucky for me my ex girlfriend is a journalist and the news article came up when we met to catch up. I asked her what the latest on the story was and she told me that 2 weeks down the line the family had managed to finish digging 7 graves.
Let's get some mathematics into this issue. Assuming that 20 of the 56 family members were below grave digging age (which is a very generous assumption especially considering that child labor laws are non-existent in Kenya and the poorer the family is the younger their children begin working). That leaves 36 family members. Now let's say half of these were ladies who's job was to source food and water for the hard working men digging the graves. We now have 18 men digging these supposed graves.

THIS IS WHY THE FAMILY IS POOR. They are outright LAZY! If you're going to dig graves then get to it. 7 graves in 2 weeks with a workforce of 18 men doing nothing but digging graves is just a poor show!

The Kenya I Love 5 (fluffy and friends)

2008-02-06T02:19:00.000-08:00

Despite the wanton theft of votes by the government that resulted in one of the worst new years celebrations ever, the holiday has still been a blast. Can't really structure a full story now so I'll put in some conversations I've had with the boys since coming back.

Now this is a funny one. We were going out for the rave (what Aussie's would call clubbing/going out) when my friend Nick makes a very valid point. This is the scenario: I've just come from picking Nick up from his house and we are leaving Nyari estate (one of the 'posh' estates in Nairobi) and the song 'I'm so hood' by DJ Khaleed plays on the CD player. There's Nick, his brother Mark and I in the car and we are all gangster rapping along to the lyrics of the song coz cool guys know the lyrics to such kind of music. Halfway through the song Nick reaches towards the volume knob and to the protests of Mark and I, he reduces the volume. This is the conversation that follows:

Mark: What did you do that for?
Nick: Ebu (please) just skip that song.
Kev: Why?
Nick: Coz there's no one in this car who is hood at all! We're rolling out of Nyari in a BMW about to spend a lot of money on getting drunk when people around the country are killing each other because they are upset that their votes were stolen on election day. NONE OF US ARE HOOD!

Well, he does have a point.

******

Another conversation i recently had was a discussion over lunch with my ex B who has a morbid fear of mangoes. Not quite sure how the conversation started but we ended up talking about fruits.
B: I don't like bananas, do you eat bananas?
Kev: (getting my mind out of the gutter) Yeah i do. How about oranges?
B: Oranges? Oh my gosh. I've never tasted a sweet orange in my life...EVER! They are so bitter.
Kev: What fruits do you eat then? Do you like durian's? I hate those fruits. They even have an ice cream flavour of the damn thing in oz. It's disgusting.
B: The one that's soft and white inside...ewww.
Kev: Do you eat fruits? At all.
B: Of course! I'm just a bit picky.
Kev: (raising eyebrows) A bit? How about mangoes?
B: Don't even mention mangoes in my presence. Do you know that if you eat a mango you'll get a cold?
Kev: I ate a mango yesterday and I'm feeling fine.
B: Then you're just lucky. Every time i eat a mango i get a cold.
Kev: What like a flu? Runny nose and all?
B: Yes.
Kev: Question, every time you eat a mango do you happen to be eating it while standing naked in the rain?
B: No. Mangoes are evil! I don't trust them.

The Kenya I Love 4(conclusion?)

2008-02-04T00:48:00.000-08:00

(conversations are translated from Swahili)

Previously on 'The Kenya I Love'

Tired of the entire fiasco i decided to come back later and sure enough i as back at the station at 1:45pm. I walk in to find a different lady at the reception desk. The police station was still empty.

It gets even funnier! I walk up to the reception desk to talk to the new lady sitting there possibly in for the afternoon shift (and yes she is also a plus size lady).
Kevin: I was told to come back at 2 o'clock for an abstract for a lost drivers license...
Ladycop4: Have you already reported it?
Kevin: Yes (i pull out the strip of paper that had my very important reference number on it and show it to her)
Ladycop4: (looking at the paper for much longer than is necessary) The lady who writes abstracts (ladycop3) has not come back from lunch. Come back at 2 o'clock.
Kevin: 2 o'clock is 15 minutes away.
Ladycop4: Yes, come back at 2 o'clock.
Kevin: Can i sit in the reception for the 15 minutes?
Ladycop4: (making a face like i have just revealed my secret fifth nipple despite the fact that the place was totally empty except for me an her) Ok.

Now before i continue this i need to try and explain the layout of the police station. The building is basically a rectangle with an open area in the middle that i am sure used to be a leisure area but was converted to a dodgy holding area for minor offenders. So the place basically has a corridor that loops around the holding area with offices to either side of the corridor except around the holding area.
The windows around the walls of the holding area are above regular height and you can therefore not look through them from either side of the wall....or so i thought. I'm sitting there minding my own business when this crook, who was probably arrested the night before, jumps up in the holding area, grabs the bars on the window above standing level and hoists himself up to look through the gap. He looks straight at me and smiles. Looks left down the corridor, right down the corridor and seeming satisfied he drops back down to the holding area.
I stifle a laugh as a very sad lady walks into the room. Very meek, she approaches the reception desk and talks to Ladycop4 in a voice to low for me to hear. Ladycop4 seems experienced in dealing with this kind of behavior so she listens to the lady and after a few minutes of talking in hushed tones she disappears into a door behind her later on emerging with a short man in her wake. The fellow steps into the room in a manner to suggest that there's a tiger around the corner and he's very wary of it. He pokes his head in and surveys the area. Sure that the tiger must be hiding, he walks in slowly and acknowledges the new lady who i am guessing is his wife or a loving sister.
They talk in hushed tones under strict supervision of Ladycop4 who intercedes when a thermos is produced with a hot drink brought for the man who seems to have missed out on a lot of sleep the previous night. At 10 past 2pm exactly Ladycop3 walks in and drags me to her office once again. I wish i could put another funny conversation here but nothing of the sort happens. She quickly writes up the abstract asking a few questions here and there, asks me for my money and gives me a receipt. The process takes a total of 6 minutes which brings the question 'Why did it take me a day to get this piece of paper when it would have taken 6 minutes to write up at the reception desk?'

I Love Kenya.

The Kenya i love 3(reloaded)

2008-01-08T04:16:00.000-08:00

(conversations are translated from Swahili)

Previously on 'The Kenya i love'...

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.
Ladycop1: (to Ladycop2 who had finished going through the DVDs but had bought none) Madam, could you write for this young guy (kijana) an abstract.
Ladycop2: Abstract? There are no abstracts here, they got finished.
Ladycop1: Are you sure?
Ladycop2: Yes (walking into the station with her hands in her pockets) I'm sure they got finished.
A short moment of silence follows and i can almost feel them asking me to leave with their eyes. At any moment now I'll be asked to come back the next day which is typical of a Kenyan police station, almost impossible to finish your business on one day even when you are the only person reporting something like i was.
Ladycop2: Maybe we can get one from the next building, i think they have a few.
Ladycop1: I don't think they are open today.
More silence
Ladycop2: Why don't you do this; go into the traffic office and see if that lady in there can help you.

Ok, now when you are asked to 'see if they can help you' the help usually comes after the person who is 'helping' me will go out of his/her way to complete this basic task and will expect a little bit of money as a gesture of thanks for them going to extreme lengths. Knowing this i decided to hold on to a faint hope that bribery will not come into the issue. At least, i wasn't asked to come back tomorrow.
Kevin: Where's her office?
Ladycop2: Walk straight down, take a left and it will be the second door on the right.
Kevin: (still with some Australian in me) What's the number on the door?
Ladycop2: It doesn't have a number it's the second door on the right you won't miss it.
Surely enough i didn't miss it. I walk in to find a plus size lady sitting behind a desk looking rather busy. It's at this point that i realise everyone in the station has a bulging gut, probably more from receiving bribes than from sitting idle which makes you wonder whether the police service has a regular fitness test that they put their officers through...i doubt it.
Kevin: (Trying to interrupt her very important business as politely as possible) Excuse me, the lady at the the front told me to come here to get an abstract.
Ladycop3: (Looking the least bit interested in the business i had at the station) I don't have any at the moment maybe if you come back at 2? (Yes, this was a question, not a statement. The inflection at the end was hard to miss, she clearly wanted a bribe so that she could bother with helping me. I refused to budge.)
Kevin: Fine. There was something i wanted to do in town anyway so I'll come back once I'm done with that.
Ladycop3: (I could swear she was relieved that i was going) Why don't you check on the Internet. You can go to the police website and download and abstract from there.
Wow, she really wanted to help me. Seeing that things were looking up and i was going to check my mail i decided i can spare a few more minutes and download the abstract.
Kevin: So, what's the address for the site?
Ladycop3: I don't know. We usually just send people to get them and they come back with one.
Kevin:........(Yes, i was speechless.)
Ladycop3: Or you just come back at 2pm.

Tired of the entire fiasco i decided to come back later and sure enough i as back at the station at 1:45pm. I
walk in to find a different lady at the reception desk. The police station was still empty.

(...to be continued)

The Kenya i love 2(the return)

2007-12-20T04:39:00.000-08:00

(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)

2007-12-20T04:20:00.000-08:00

(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

2007-11-14T05:20:00.001-08:00

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

2007-11-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

(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

2007-10-29T09:24:00.000-07:00

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????

2007-10-18T08:48:00.000-07:00

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!

2007-10-13T03:19:00.000-07:00

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

2007-10-09T06:54:00.000-07:00

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.