Last night was quite the trip.
Adrienne asks me to come to a pool party at her friend's house. Being a fan of aquatic culture, I jump at it so we and Jon, Lucas and Serai (forgive the spelling) take a cab to God knows where out of town. We get picked up by her friend in a drop top BMW and whisked to this beautiful compound house, with a guard and all.
Inside there were many people, but it was evident that they weren't there for the pool. Adrienne's friend is not only an human rights journalist, but also the son of a former African national leader. He is very well-travelled and speaks many languages. The house, which was lovely, was definitely not paid for on a journalist's salary. His friends inside were from many places around the world: Ireland, Germany, Lebanon etc. and they were all older and very well-traveled. There was also lots of alcohol. I sat and drank French Pastis whilst talking about topics from my education to another's travels in Uzbekistan. It was almost as if we were in a cafe on this magical island of sorts in the middle of Africa where "cultured" adults sat around and conversed over drinks and biscuits.
We students imagined ourselves in five to ten years, wondering if we will be these people, living around the world without a home; "Modern nomads", as one girl put it. I personally know that my life will be more stable, especially with a loved one. And barring a catastrophe, I'll never disown Canada as my true home. The more I'm away from it, the more patriotic I feel.
There was a pool too. We students had a nice swim (my first in weeks) and enjoyed ourself muchly. We left at around 1:30AM and had a quick sleep before class this morning. Freakin' sweet.
Post script: it turns out Adrienne's "friend" turned out to be quite the character... he was not quite a human rights journalist, but indeed was the son of a former African leader - and a rather dubious one at that! Ask me in person for details.
4 comments:
Dearest Mike,
may i just say how incredibly jealous i am of you and your amazing adventure into the unknow...sort of. Your blog entries are the highlight of my 9-5 day usually, and i sit and try to imagine what it might be like. I mean to call Maleaha when i get back to Ottawa on Saturday, ive been simply awful at keeping in contact and its unforgivable. Anywho, you essentially got to experience what i want my life to be last night, i am throughly jealous and makes my desire to travel even stronger. Ive got to run, but stay safe Mike, i know Ottawa wont be the same without you.
With love,
Gill
How can you get the boy back to the farm, once that he's seen gay..
Accra? Wow Mike, sounds like quite the parteh. Just like the ones we have around our pool in Markham. Well, less the well travelled intellectuals, cultured adults and beautiful compound avec guards. What is a pastis anyway? Pretty cool...
Love,
Y.M.
Haha,, what did I tell you about Afro-Western junkets? What an experience...I've been looking for that island for a long time.
1) Sent the changes to Jeff
2) Sent the song to Brian
Take care man,
GK
Gillie - I'm glad to brighten your day! Do call Maleaha... she just got a landline.
Mom - Pastis is a strong French liqueur that needs to be diluted with water and even though both are clear liquids, it gets all cloudy and fun! It's akin to Sambuca in that it tastes very much like black licorice. Not my thing, but hey, when in Accra...
GK - Thanks for doing the rounds. Believe it or not, the island was not what it seemed, as I found out. It'll blow your mind. I'll explain in detail when I get home.
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