this guy

I’m going to go for it. The giving thing that I theorized about on The Leather Apron Revival. I’ve been ruminating on the details, and I think it can work. This is gonna be hot. It can work. I need to get the word out to as many of my friends and family as possible. That could be difficult since I don’t think as many people read this anymore (since I fell, somewhat, off the face of the earth upon returning from Bangladesh). But we’ll get there. You or someone you love may soon get a rather lengthy e-mail from me laying out the game plan.

***

I’m a lucky, lucky person. I cannot think of another time in my entire life when this many things have been going splendidly. Observe:

I’m in Africa volunteering, learning a language and absorbing another culture.

I have no diseases.

I am going to help build my own mud house, which I designed. It’s under a mango tree in a village neighboring a forest in mahfuggin’ Malawi. The family who owns the property is cool as Kim Deal (but in a Malawian way).

I have two orphanages wanting my help, perfect spots for an azungu (foreigner) like me to work. Kids really needing the skills that I have, and thinking I’m cool because I play guitar and make funny faces.

Hillary.

I’ll probably be on TV with a drama group soon, which wants me to work with them, playing music and acting and you name it. They do AIDS education, literature awareness, and local Malawian drama. Might even get a chance to adapt a little Shakespeare.

I’m learning to cook Malawian food, making friends, and seeing things I won’t get another chance to see.

I’d just like to freeze this moment and acknowledge that, for anyone keeping tabs on Adam’s seasons--meaning you know well that I’m not only adept at self-flagellation but fully willing to call any glass half-empty--I’m actually digging my life pretty hardcore right now. Just for anyone. You know. Keepin’ tabs.

I may have promised pictures last time. I lied. Don’t rush me, or I will kill you dead.

***

Wolfowitz is out at World Bank! Now we get rid of Gonzalez, then elect Obama, and what has two thumbs and is gonna be pumped?

This guy!! ADAM indicates himself, using both thumbs.

Rasta!/The ubiquity of booze 'n' dancing

I think I’m going to love Rastafarianism. I get to dance.

The Warehouse is a rather charming indoor/outdoor club in the middle of Blantyre that can pack about 2000 if need be. Lucius Banda was, in my previous estimation, the Michael Bolton of these parts. I’ve heard his songs on the radio, and they’re sort of like Baja Men meet the Balding Mullet himself. Thought I’d get a laugh out of his show.

Grabbed some brandy from the grocery store with Nedson (Africans can and do drink. DRINK.) and went. And guess what was great? The music. Opening acts played mostly reggae covers, throw in an occasional trumpet and blues guitar, and ‘twas marvelous. Reggae just suits Africa. As does . . .

Got into a conversation about: Rastafarianism. (The following is probably me getting a bit carried away, but) Yes! Now that’s a way of life for Africa! Handed-down Western Christianity around here kind of gives me the willies. And it’s everywhere. Darned near every white person you meet here is on some sort of Christian quest. But instead of seeing African Christian churches, you naturally see Presbyterian, Assembly of God, and even Baptist churches. New friend sharing my beer crate (chair) tells me that the old guy with long dreads dancing onstage is an old, respected Rasta around these parts. Rastafarianism is a way of life, corollary to Christianity. The king of Ethiopia (kin of the queen of Sheba) started it, and adherents do not eat anything that involves blood (uh, meat). They’re about peace and love. Unity. Regardless of race. Since I can get away with it here, I go, “So even a white guy could be a Rasta?” My friend makes the funny sour face that I’ve come to love. It means “Are you kidding? Of course?” and he says “Yeah, of course!” Score! I love peace. I love love. I love unity. I love regardless of race. I might even have a soft spot for that Jesus guy. The point is, shouldn’t the spread of religion share some ideological ground with “development?” That is, if you want to save souls, shouldn’t you start with what they know/believe and go from there? There’s no way you can convince me that, as brilliant as John Calvin or John Knox were, they deserve to form the ideological foundation for religious practice in Africa.

And my dancing works here! Which leads me back to the music. The concert was joyous. Wonderful. Unbelievable to see the difference between cheesy radio Lucius and in-concert Lucius. I can’t explain it, but the music was good, all of a sudden. And everyone was having fun. Real fun. Dance how you want. Dance with your friends, or with strangers. Mostly I just danced around with my new friends, most of whom were male. I’m also newly convinced that dudes should dance with dudes.

As the evening got sloppier/drunker, the ho’s came. Nedson’s married, and Paul said goodbye to his girlfriend about an hour ago. Not that that stopped anyone from a little grinding. (Except me, Hillary. Ten-foot pole.) Interestingly, the whole thing reminded me of a recent trip to a Hollywood club with friend Lo. Similarities: ho’s who use you to get drinks, male friends getting into fights (blood and everything!), overpriced drinks (stressed-out bartenders too), and the half-drunk advice at the end of the night, from the guy with the girlfriend:
“F_____ bitches, man. She wanted 1000 kwacha.”
(me) “Oh.”
“Just dance with them and then go. They want you to buy them drinks.”
“Yeah, the one awhile ago, she wanted a Stout.”
“That one, she wanted 1000 kwacha for five f_____ minutes.”
“ . . . Well, uh, that’s too bad.” (Trying to change the subject, a little) “Gotta wrap that thing, too, eh? Don’t wanna mess around with that.” (Me feebly trying to be a “good influence”.)
(Paul takes out two condoms and shows them to me. The man’s prepared.)

One thousand kwacha is about $7, by the way. Salaries are substantially lower here, though. $300/month is considered a very good salary, and usually supports a lot of family members. Many people with normal jobs make about $35/month.