Yeah, yeah, I need my head examined. I should just go home tonight and eat the rest of the spaghetti sauce I made Saturday.....the first actual cooking I've done since arriving in Nairobi. It actually turned out really well; the key is to mince a few leeks along with the fresh garlic, to give it a zestier flavor. That and a healthy blast of red wine. Now that the flavors have had a chance to mesh, it'll probably be extra-super yummy.
If I timed it right, I could get home in time to watch Joyce Meyer doing her shtick. By now, I'm used to the fact that 3 of any 5 African TV channels offer religious programming only. In fact, somewhere I have a CD copy of my very own appearance on a Ugandan religious channel program, TV Wa's weekly show, "The Bitterest Experience." Last November, this sweet, round little nun named Sister Jo corralled me into a guest appearance on "TBE," which is produced by the Catholic diocese in Lira, Uganda. The invitation came shortly after I'd gotten back to
Uganda from my sister's funeral. As I was telling Sister Jo about the past few years of
family tragedy, she absolutely beamed! Without a single word of comfort or consolation, Sister Jo proclaimed my life PERFECT material for her program about being a hardcore "Bad Luck Schleprock" and living to tell the tale.
Imagine that. And I didn't even tell her about my dating history.
But I digress. I've taken to watching Joyce Meyer whenever I think about it because it's good old, down home entertainment, pure and simple. The woman has the nerve of a brass monkey (to borrow that phrase from my late mother, Eloise, even though it really doesn't make a lot of sense because if a monkey is made of brass, he probably doesn't have any nerve endings, does he???). Joyce Meyer, Creflo Dollar, Joel Osteen.....they're all cut from the same mold. They're "saving souls" and getting paid in the shade sipping cold lemonade. It kinda irks me when I hear about their crusades through Africa, where they're urging desperately poor people to "give til it feels good," but that's where you gotta give it to 'em in the nerviness category. And sometimes they even say something that relates to my life. So I kill a few minutes watching them...so sue me.
Anyway, Joyce Meyer and a bowl of Mama Rachella's spaghetti is about all I'm usually up for after a crazy day in downtown Nairobi. But check me out.....I'm going out again tonight!! This time, I'm headed to the Goethe Institute for the screening of a couple of Rwandan films. One is about Rwandan women in Parliament, the other about survivors of the 1994 genocide.
Talk about your yin and yang of life. But I've always been intrigued by African film, and have vowed to spend this next year learning as much as I can about it. This seems like a great way to start. Only this time, I'm not heading into this evening expecting it to lend a much-needed jolt to my social life. I'm certainly not looking to meet anybody, because I'm finally convinced that everybody in the entire world who wants a mate has already found him or her, leaving me ass out when it comes to the prospect of a relationship, I'm afraid.
All right, maybe I'm not completely doomed, but I am done with trying to force things. I'm letting life happen from now on. If the book of my life has a loving man in it, just for little old me and me alone, I'm looking forward to meeting him.
If not, well, at least I'll be insanely well-versed in African cinema.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment