se tordre

the events depicted took place over labor day weekend, 1974, moputu, moçambique

fang arrived in the middle of the night. as usual, the security officials at the airport invited me into secure areas hoping that my rich european wife would give them a monetary token of appreciation upon arrival. fortunately i had a glimpse of her being detained by the airport police from the secure area, then i went to sort thing out. here she is seen, shortly after arrival.

after a brief argument with a cab driver, a homeless man, and a sleepy hotel attendant, we spent three hours patiently waiting for the sun to rise, eating duty free chocolate. fang claimed that she was a vegetarian since two years ago, "but not one of those fuckups that ruins meat for everyone else." after a forty second discussion, we resolved that she would eat meat if and only if it was a "cultural experience." suitable experiences presented themselves about four times a day on average.

there is much culture. after bouncing up and down in the mud for 18 hours, we made it to the site of an Nkanda chieftancy ceremony, learned about the palm wine industry then went back to our dearest friend, the muddy road. i enjoyed bragging about her to everyone. "american comes, they are scared of the bush taxi, scared of the road, scared of ndole, scared of chuggechugge, tired of travelling. but not the chinese." "the chinese are very strong." being chinese in africa gives you a high amount of respect, since people believe that only the smartest people to ever exist could create the nanfang motorcycle.

fang promised that she wouldn't threaten to kill me for subjecting her to the water fall, like the last two people did. this promise she kept, yet she started having delusions after falling in the water three times then being reminded we had to walk 10 km uphill with wet shoes. i promised to call ahead to put some cokes in a fish freezer if she would walk through the cocoa farm. then she claimed that she was prepared to sell her body for mangoes, and promised to marry the young boy that showed us the mango tree and threw down ripe mangoes to us until we had had our fill. the farmers in efong like it when i bring guests since i am good at greeting everyone and i can explain what the hell they're doing with a plastic jug on their back and a machete, followed by a pack of dogs. (trailblazing, spraying pesticide and hunting cane rats and porcupines) on returning we consumed a coke, a milk stout, and a piece of fotango that lasted forever. it was all worth it and i was glad that i hadn't decided to live under the rock at the water fall until the rainy season ended. the water fall's name in Ngwe is translated approximately as "that which shocks the mind" but etymologies always become disputed when they are interesting. an alternate explanation is that the name means "two warm places" i haven't looked into the matter seriously.

visitors are fun, for when they seldom come, they wished for come.