Field of (popcorn) dreams

Hola peeps.

I know I said I missed my bed in Juba in last blog entry, but nada prepared me for the blood red bedsheet-and-duvet combo that greeted me when I walked in from airport. It was as if cleaning lady, who is now married by the way, missed out on celebrating Valentine’s Day with me and so decided to re-enact it. Was scared to sleep on bed for a minute there. Had to check under pillows for chocolates or a secret love note first. Confirmed with a few neighbours that their beddings were not replaced by the apartment administrators. Why was mine changed then? Did cleaning lady expend her own funds on my beddings? Oh well, cannot be too bothered about this as my trip to Russia has been postponed. Was not informed until I returned from Kampala on Saturday. If I had known I’da spent an extra day there, as it’s always fun hanging with David and his crew.

Thankfully, this time I had the proper documents and was able to obtain Russian visa on same day by paying for express service. I was left with no choice as the Russian embassy in Kampala only operates b/w 10am and 12pm on Tuesdays – day I arrived in Kampala - and Thursdays – day I applied for visa - and I had been erroneously informed our flight to Moscow was to depart from Juba yesterday. Not tripping though as now I get to catch my breath and resume gym and kickboxing regimen until travel. Still not sure when travel date is but the organizers had better hurry before my visa validity ends. I would hate to go back to Kampala to apply for another visa as I am running outta passport pages. With my Kenyan visa and South Sudan residence permit also set to expire, chances are I am gonna need a new passport before the end of the year. Last year, I passed through the Juba airport at least once every month of the year bar October and this year’s looking to be just as busy. Already “things are tough” guy has seen me more times than I’d like and has returned to his pleadings. Nah, “pleadings” is not the right word, more like “demands”. Had to brush him off last Tuesday when he held on to my shirt and rubbed his thumb against his index and middle fingers in the universal sign adopted by immigration staff seeking inducement. Yup, I have been too liberal with my funds causing these folks to take the piss. No more. Tight Fist™ is here to stay.

Cannot wait for the Russia trip even though I dreaded the mawkish traits I developed back in February, from what I am attributing to jetlag. How else does one explain the number of times I almost cried during inflight movies, even dumb action movies? Wait, or maybe it was due to flying in coach as opposed to upper class? Hmmm. Since Russia trip is being paid for by the seminar organizers chances are I’ll be flying coach with the other invitees, and it’d be kinda weird to pay for an upgrade since we are travelling as a group. Drats. Guess my theory on hitherto unknown wussy behavior that comes to the fore above 30,000 feet will be put to the test once more. The main reason I am keen on Russia is a get an opportunity to rock the fly jacket I purchased in the UK. Weather in February was so cold I relented and bought this extra warm, knee-length jacket that makes me look like a member of a late 90s-early oughts boy band shooting a video in the snow. Jacket’s so fly some random dude approached me in New Jersey to ask where I bought it. Yup, the Nigerian Panther™ – wait, you thought I retired that name? You know me so little… - is making waves around the world. On a serious tip, the jacket is so fancy I have been praying for climate change to give Juba a whiff of snow, just so I can show it off.

Just occurred to me I never told y’all about my travels in February. My bad. Had hoped to write about it on return flight from the UK but was crazy tired I slept for most of the 8-hour journey. As expected, crap Kenya Airways’ movie selection wasn’t updated since previous time I flew them; wouldn’t have mattered anyway as my screen wasn’t functional. Flight attendant offered to reset it and it musta flummoxed her ‘cos after a few minutes I noticed she stopped coming down my aisle. Like a football tactician the head attendant musta advised her to switch wings – aisles in this case - to confuse the opposition, i.e. me. Punks. Kenya Airways is lucky I still fly them ‘cos I do not like too many flight layovers….and I have friends in Nairobi…...and the Addis Ababa airport is a joke. The business class lounge in Terminal 1 at Addis Ababa Bole International Airport is worse than a Greyhound bus terminal. No joke.

Anyhoo, planned Thailand trip did not fly – pun intended - as was told by the Thailand reps in Kampala one would need to return to Nigeria to apply for a visa. Extended duration of US trip instead. Flew coach for US domestic flights and saw some Caucasian guy on Delta acting as I normally would as he avoided eye contact when the lesser mortals were passing through upper class on their way to the economy class seats. Hee hee. After a week in London, I did San Francisco, California – Burbank, California – San Francisco, California – Minneapolis, Minnesota – Newark, New Jersey - London in 10 days. Was shot by the time I returned to Juba, but what did I expect after experiencing 4 times zones in such a short space of time? Jetlag was so bad I nodded off while shaving head with razor. I have nodded off numerous times while on the loo, but this was a first. I also recall nearly choking when I nodded off while pooping ‘cos I was trying to multi-task by making mouthwash last when I shoulda spit it out after gargling. What an obit I woulda had, huh? Here lies Tunde, who passed away after a short bout of stupidity…...

When not spending time with my daughter in London I hung out with family and friends. This time I did not repair to the cinema as is wont due to tight travel schedule. Caught just two movies, I, Tonya and Black Panther. Prior to the latter’s release I did not understand the whole #BlackPantherChallenge. I figured it was a cynical move by a global corporation to get more people to see their movie under the guise of black upliftment. I am not as cynical after reading this NY Times article and observing the impact of a different superhero story on black folk around the world. While waiting in line to see the movie in London a random black dude came up to me and flashed the Wakanda salute. I kid you not. He musta noticed a lone black face in the sea of Caucasians and Asians and felt a kinship. Then again, I was wearing my fly jacket so maybe that was the real reason for…...hee hee, I’m sorry, I need to grow up. When I told him I hadn’t yet seen the movie, he did not offer any plot details but remarked on how well made movie was, how proud he was to be black after seeing it, and how he hoped black kids in the UK would see it and come out with a positive image of themselves and believe they can achieve greatness.

I saw the movie…twice. Dude was right. When I travelled to the US I compared notes with black folk there, and in addition to their delight they told of unfortunate stories of some Caucasians making up stories of being assaulted during movie screenings or deliberate acts to apportion it less than stellar reviews. Amazes me in 2018 folks still have issues with skin colour. At least black folk are becoming more vigilant: my cousin-in-law said her mate bought Black Panther merchandise from a store, but when she reviewed the receipt and noticed it was rung up as Star Wars she marched back in and ensured it was duly assigned. Bravo.

Due to meetings and visa interviews I have already been to Kampala on three separate occasions this year. There must be something about my cologne ‘cos during each trip I…. let’s just say I seem to be the Pied Piper of drunk women. It’s not exactly my fault, ‘cos kinda like Cairo Kampala’s night life is so unlike Juba’s so I tend to wanna get the most outta it before I have to return here. During my first trip this year, in February, I was out with David and got a bit bored as he was drinking with mates so decided to approach the lone girl at the bar. Thing is I can be a bit charming when I want to, but sometimes I surprise myself. This was one of those instances. Even though girl was waiting for someone, I suggested she join us when we were leaving for another spot. She immediately called off her appointment and that shoulda been a warning sign. We got to the new spot and she ordered a bottle of coconut waragi. Ever seen a 20-year old, 4’ 11” girl down a 750ml bottle of local gin unaided? I have.

I remember when I initially moved to Port Harcourt from Lagos, how PH girls I would meet would always advise me to be wary of “typical” PH girls ‘cos they were money-hungry, and yet would go on to exhibit same behaviour they warned about. Well, Kampala is deja vu all over again. Let’s be clear, I never propositioned Gin Girl. She seemed fun and the fact she went on and on about her new boyfriend made me comfortable around her. People always ask how I can hang until the wee hours of the morning with guys that drink even when I don’t? Well, I tend to alleviate ennui by finding some female to talk to. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong one this time. Two days after, David and some mates came by my hotel to hang and I invited Gin Girl. Noticed she got pissed when David’s mate’s sister-in-law came by and we exchanged numbers. After the girl left Gin Girl called me aside and asked if the girl had been “brought” for me. Huh? She was jealous even though she has a boyfriend?! Explained to her the lady was just David’s mate. That shoulda been my cue to cut ties, right? No siree. It wasn’t until later that night when she met a girl at the bar we all went to and suggested they both return to mine, I decided I had let this go on for a tad too long. Deleted her number after buying her another bottle of local gin – this time she split it with her new girlfriend.

Last month, I took second trip to Kampala and chose to catch a movie with David’s mate’s sister-in-law. Yup, same lady Gin Girl erroneously assumed had been “brought” for me. Ended up not seeing a movie but went for a meal and at end of it she requested some investment for a travel agency she wanted to establish. Serious Tunde requested a business plan when he’da known better. Let’s just say we haven’t been in touch since. That trip was uber eventful ‘cos a few days after the faux investment opportunity I met David’s relative, a demure TV presenter, at a product launch for a bank that doubled as a music concert. Ever seen a demure girl transform into Gangsta B&%ch after three glasses of Long Island ice tea? I have. My goodness! She knew all the lyrics to the most arcane hip-hop songs and would cock her fingers mimicking a gun while dancing. I genuinely feared for my life when I told her I was leaving. How else am I supposed to react when her drunk voice mirrored DMX's? “IS THAT IT? YOU LEAVING NI%GA? GO ON, TAKE MY NUMBER. YOU BEST CALL ME!” I didn’t call her, but just to be safe I moved hotels and chose to walk around Kampala in a rasta hat - with fake dreadlocks and everything – for the rest of that trip.

A friend from Juba, who had flown to Kampala for the Easter weekend with her mates, was staying at new hotel I relocated to. Called her as soon as I checked in and she came over to say hello. What I was not privy to was she and her mates had gone out the night before and gotten so wasted one of them got burnt while smoking shisha. Ever seen someone so drunk they have three distinct burn patches on their right butt cheek that they maintain occurred as a result of another girl at the club being so jealous of them she decided to direct the hot shisha charcoal at their butt? I have…...and my brain still cannot fathom that sequence of events.

Tot ziens and God bless.