My last girlfriend was from Uganda.
I met her when she was going to the church of the pastor i was staying with over there.
She donated her vocal services for free in exchange for chapatis and fanta.
She only ever kissed me on the cheek.
We hardly got to spend any time alone together but it was a bonding experience recording an album with her.
I wasn’t entirely emotionally faithful to her cos I was also crushing on the pastor’s teenage daughter.
I liked the daughter of a pastor who worked with him too but we never crossed the line not even in conversation.
It was funny in Uganda promoting what they called a white school cos it was funded by 2 guys from canada.
If you tried that in my country they would think you were working for the kkk or trying to introduce apartheid.
We got to visit timberyards and fruit and vegetable marketplaces.
Quite often i forgot i had already given my brochure to the same person.
People in the markets there have big towering stacks of vegetables.
You have to watch your step for vegetables squished underfoot.
We met some rastas and I swapped my Ethiopian bracelet with them for what I thought was a cross but later turned out to be a crucifix.
The same thing happened at the market in samoa.
We met rastas in zambia at the church outside the pub but they just wanted to know who was in charge of this world God or the devil.
The answer obviously is the devil has been given the right to rule over this world but ultimately he still has to ask God’s permission before he does anything at all.
The 5 horned giraffe will always stick out in my mind in ugandas national park.
Also the tiny rhesus monkey we saw cheekily grinning up at our car which was inadequately prepared for constantly stopping and starting to take pictures as it got bogged in the dusty road and we had to get some helpful Indian and German gentlemen to come and push us out.
It was fascinating to discover on that trip that hippos ( named after the greek word for waterhorse ) don’t actually like being in muddy water.
Quite the opposite in fact what some mistake for playful behavior is in fact the poor hapless hippo struggling to get out of a pickle.
This was the first time in my life sleeping under a mosquito net.
My friends in png on our outreach trip there used mozzie dome tents with inbuilt mosquito nets but I couldn’t put my tent up cos it had to be assembled on a concrete slab which only works for pegs if your fingers come complete from birth with drillbit functionality.
A mentally deteriorating legendary poet from png lived near the church with his Indian Fijian wife n son.
He met his beloved wife when they were both studying in Canada .
He went from the peak to the valley mentally