All THIS for some hot water???

Just another story from my travels that I thought you might find amusing.


I am in Casablanca and you have to pay for hot showers if you want one. I decided to pay the extra money because I needed to shave as well and I hate shaving with cold water. I went to the front desk to get the key for the shower. The front desk clerk tells me that the shower is downstairs and I have shower #1. Easy enough I figure. I go downstairs and there are rooms where the front desk clerk said there are showers. I am walking along this hallway to find the showers, and this hallway is never ending. I keep on passing room after room but no showers. The hallway takes a right, then another right before I come upon the shower. Not shower #1, but THE shower. As in there are no other showers but this one on the entire floor. My key opens the door so I know I have the right shower. I walk in, and it is unlike any shower room I have ever seen in my life. First off, it really is a room, no stalls, benches or anything, just a huge, white, bare 10 x 12 room. It is the damndest thing. There are hooks to hang your towel and clothes by the door, but the actual shower nozzle is waaaaaay across the room. There was nothing else along the walls that could be used as hooks to hang up my towel on. There were not even other sockets like there had been more showers in the room at some point in time. Why someone would turn a room that size into a single shower stall I do not know. Another thing that stood out right away is the fact that there is no drain. In addition, the floor was perfectly level. I mean that if there was no drain, and there was no decline that allowed the water to run to a corner of the room…Where did it go??? There was a red stool in the room also, but it was wet so it made me think someone had been sitting naked on it recently. I did NOT use the stool. There was a raised ledge type barrier on the floor going around the shower where a shower curtain should have been hanging. It was pointless to have the ledge since there was no drain!

I start the shower up. It is a pretty good shower I must admit, great water pressure, massage head shower nozzle. I sneezed at some point and it just resonated in the room. It was like being in Carnegie Hall butt naked in soapsuds. I started singing. Maaan, I sounded like Teddy Pendergrass, Marvin Gaye and Luther Vandross all rolled into one. I was just wailing in the shower putting on a concert for myself. Since there was no sink, I had to shave my head in the shower. No big deal at all. I have shaved so much I can do it with my eyes closed. I put the shaving cream on my head and commence to shave. However, a couple of things had since happened from when I first started my shower. I LOVE to take very hot showers. There was only one tiny window way up near the ceiling in the shower and it was closed. I started sweating while I was in the shower. Also, the steam had no where to go so it was collecting in the shower room like a storm cloud in Florida in July. I am shaving and get a bit of shaving cream in my eye, no big deal. After awhile though, with the shaving cream mixing with the sweat getting into my eyes it is starting to burn a lot. I mean my eyes are starting to feel like they are on fire. Not a problem, I can just wipe my eyes with my towel. Oh, wait! I am in a huge room so my towel is not right next to the shower. I begin to move towards the wall and I stumble over that damn ledge going around the shower. I try to open my eyes to see exactly where I am going, but the steam is so thick I cannot see a damn thing. It was like in the cartoon Scooby Doo when the fog would be so thick Scooby would cut a hole in it using his paw. My eyes started burning even more so I had to close them. I put my arms out in front of me to make sure I did not bust my nose when I reached the wall. I finally reached the wall and I was feeling around for my towel. I started searching and probing my way to where my towel was located. You remember that red stool I told you about? I didn’t. Bust my shin on it. So here is the mental image you should have here, I am butt naked, half my head has shaving cream on it, my eyes are squeezed shut as tight as I can get them, my arms are outstretched in front of me so I can feel for my towel AND I am limping. I finally find my towel and wiped my eyes so I could see. Walked back to the shower and tried to finish shaving fast.

Another thing I learned that you have to be aware of when taking a shower in a room with no ventilation is that steam consists of vaporized water and water has weight. That weight will be transferred to your lungs as you breathe in the non-ventilated shower room. My chest started hurting and my voice started sounding like an 80-year-old Jewish man who had a two pack a day habit. Then more sweat and shaving cream got into my eyes! Had to do the whole naked blind man with the half shaved head routine again. After I wiped my eyes again I knew I needed to get some air up in the room. Had no windows at all, but I did have a door. I did not want to shower with the door open, but it was a calculated risk. I cracked the door open a little bit, peeked outside and did not see or hear anyone. I started opening and closing the door really fast to try to get some circulation of air up in there. It worked a bit. I ran back to the shower to finish shaving. Even with the door cracked, it still was foggy as hell in that shower room. By this point, my contacts were wrecked so I could not see anything with my eyes open. I turned off the shower, knelt down to try and find my soap gel, shaving cream and razor I put on the floor of the room. Not sure how long it took me to do this, but it was long enough for someone else who needed to take a shower to not hear water or a person moving around to think the shower was free. Add that the door was unlocked AND open and I would have thought the same thing. The steam was starting to thin out a bit, but it was still pea soup and hard to see anything. However, my ears worked perfectly fine. I heard someone come in the shower and start heading to where I was crouched down. I jumped up and at the same time screamed “Aaah!!” Let me set this mental image for you again, but from the other person’s perspective. You walk into a shower room that is hot, humid and thick with steam. You walk towards where you think the shower nozzle is to put your shower things. All of sudden, this black man with white streaks running down his head from front to back, white goatee (from the shaving cream smeared in it), razor in one hand, shaving cream in another with devil red eyes opened as wide as possible screaming “Aaah!!” pops out of nowhere butt ass naked. It might give you a tad bit of a fright. Scared the shit out of the poor lil’ white girl who walked in on me. She looked like the Flintstones when they first start their cars. How they are running in place for a second or two before the traction kicks in and the cars zoom off. She did the same thing, but running backwards. I was very impressed. I got all my stuff together and got dressed. Made my way upstairs expecting to have half the Casablanca Police force waiting for me there with a terrified white girl screaming, “That’s him!” But all was quiet and the front desk clerk asked me if the shower was Ok. I told him it was worth writing a story about.

A funny thing happened on the way to the airport...

A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE AIRPORT….


I usually send observations out of the countries I have visited. This time I am doing a little something different for a couple of reasons. One reason is a couple of people have said I should consider writing a book throwing together all my observations and funny stories. Secondly, this last big travel trip I took through Spain, Portugal, Africa and Andorra I was traveling with someone which took away from my ability to observe things as well as I wanted. You will still get the observations of those countries, but not up to my usual standards. So instead, you get this true story, or at least true in the sense of this is how I remember it, if you can find witnesses that testify to it happening then good for you and get a life. Do not hesitate to send me back feedback and suggestions. More than a few of you are incredibly creative, I have been out of school for too long, and my artistic juices are not flowing as freely as they once did. With that out of the way, here we go.

As I stated earlier, I traveled with someone on my holiday through all the above-mentioned countries. That is another story in it self, which you all will be getting soon enough. Anyway, my job gave me two free nights in this hotel in Paris. I arrived at the hotel very late and asked how far away the airport was since the flight I needed to meet the next day arrived at 6:30am. The Night Clerk told me no more than 10 minutes. I figured I was set. I figured out that getting through immigration alone at Charles de Gaulle airport would take at least an hour, not counting luggage retrieval time I could take my time getting to the airport and everything would be smooth. Oh how wrong I was.

To start things off I overslept. Set my alarm for 6pm instead of 6am. No worries I am thinking, even though I woke up late since I was still so close to the airport I would just skip breakfast and go straight to the shuttle. I walk up to the front desk and ask which way to the shuttle. This is where things started going down hill very fast. The clerk looked at me with this confused dazed look in her eye and said she did not know of any shuttle in the area. I just figured she was new and asked someone else behind the desk. He said the same thing! They did know of a bus I could take that would take me to a metro station that would take me to a rapid train station, which would take me to the airport. I knew I was in trouble then. I ran to the bus stop, and I knew it was the right bus stop because it was right in front of a KFC with black folks waiting with grease stains around their mouths from the 2-piece meal they were eating for breakfast. Ghetto is ghetto even in France. Get on the bus, buy my ticket and everything is cool. The bus gets to the stop I need and the doors open. As soon as the doors to the bus opened these French bus agents jump on the bus as if they are the F.B.I. They came on lined up three abreast so they blocked the exit to the bus. Then another two came on through the front door blocking that way as well. They were like pinball flippers knocking people back in play when someone tried to get off the bus. I was confused as hell cause all the agents were talking in rapid fire French. Then I realized they were letting off who showed a bus pass or ticket. No problem. I showed mine, fully expecting to be let off, but the F.B.I., I mean bus agent would not let me off the bus. I do not speak French and the agent did not speak English so he could not understand why he was not letting me off the bus. All of this took place within a 20-second period, just enough time for the bus driver to close the doors and speed off to the next stop. One of the agents who did speak English explained to me that when I bought the ticket I had to put it through this little machine behind the driver that validated the ticket. In addition, since my ticket was not validated I had to pay a 45-euro fine. Hah! I started taking off the earrings and watch cause it was about to be a fight on the bus fo’ real, forty five euros because I didn’t know about a machine BEHIND the driver!? In Belgium, the machine is right next to the driver and he validates the ticket for you. In the UK, it is the same way. I was vexed. I figured if I was going to be paying a fine I was going to be paying a fine for something. The same agent said that if I had my passport proving I was a foreigner who did not know I would be off the hook. I always have my passport so I was off the hook. But the muthafucker was taking his time looking at my stamps trying to ask me about some of the countries I had visited. All the while, my stop was getting further and further away in the distance.
I finally was let off and had to run back to the stop I wanted in the first place. Get to the Metro station and get to the stop that has the rapid train to the airport. You have to buy a separate ticket for the rapid train. Get to the ticket office and there is a line literally out of the door for people waiting to buy tickets. GREAT! I was very late by this point. I waited in the line for 10 minutes and realized it was not going anywhere. Luckily, I had my new French bankcard on me and saw a ticket machine in the room, took me another 10 minutes to buy my ticket since the machine was only in French. I narrowly avoided buying a ticket to London instead of just the airport. Had my ticket in hand and I ran to the appropriate platform to catch the airport train. Of course, it is not a direct line but a commuter line. So every single stop we had to wait for the fat woman with all of her groceries, the school class on fieldtrip and the man in the wheelchair who I think al lurk around corners waiting to jump on the trains when people are in a rush to slow the trains down even more.
Finally go to the airport around 8:30am. Over 2 hours since the plane landed. Reach into my pockets to get the flight information and DAMN! I forgot the paper with the flight information. Could not remember which gate or terminal the plane arrived at. Since I was so late, they had taken that flight info down from the Arrivals screen. I as running around like chicken with its head cut off. While I am running around to see if my friend was, is just waiting for me, they are constantly paging this person over and over and over again to come and get his luggage. I go check with the Airline Company and find out the gate of the flight. Of course, I need the terminal on the complete opposite of the airport. Can I get to that terminal though? No! That man they kept on paging to come get his luggage? He never showed up, so in this day and age the Police department, Bomb squad and the Intelligence agencies were called in to investigate the luggage. They cordoned off the entire area and no one was allowed to pass. I ended up waiting over an hour for this situation to resolve itself. It was resolved in that they just ended up blowing up the bag right there in the airport terminal. I was stuck in the lower level of the terminal directly beside the staircase the bag had been left. A gang of white, American, tourists was stuck on the level with me during this ordeal. When they were all set to blow up the bag, all the French people backed the fuck up and put their fingers in their ears. Now, I do not speak a word of French, but I do understand people backing up, scooping up kids and fingers in ears in all languages. The white Americans were CLUELESS. They stood milling around like sheep, some even tried to get closer to see what all the commotion was about. One dummy even tried to walk up the stairs because he thought it was open since the Policeman guarding the stairs was no longer there. Guess she didn’t see the hundred French people and one black man pushed as far back in the hallway away from the stairs as possible and 30 or so Americans just milling around the staircase. Then one Policeman ran downstairs and put up one hand with three fingers. He then started a countdown in French. Again, even if you do not speak French, you have to understand something is going to happen when it gets to no fingers. The Policeman went down to two fingers; people are forgetting about body space and cramming in as tight as they can, down to one finger and people are closing their eyes and squinting real hard like all people do when they know something scary or loud is going to happen……One finger and BA BOOM BLAM !!! I had my fingers in my ears and knew the blast was coming and it still made me almost piss myself. Poor white people (I am shaking my damn head right now) the blast sent about half the group straight into the air. The other half started screaming at the top of their lungs and running in all directions like a herd of Elephants on those old Tarzan movies. As we all know, when white people attempt to flee in sheer terror and panic….they trip and fall. Trip and fall they did. One woman was so big she had cankles. You know, calves and ankles together because the fat has fused the two together. She fell dead on her knees and elbows AND she was wearing a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt. I think the sound of her bare skin hitting linoleum with that much momentum and force equaled the sound of the bag being exploded. Since the French people had been given the all clear signal they had let their kids go and taken their fingers out of their ears. They got frightened at the second “explosion” and almost start stampeding. Luckily, the Policemen calmed them down and got some order restored. In the middle of it all, was one Black man rollin’ on the floor in laughter that had seen the entire thing happen and could not wait to write it down in his journal.

The epilogue to this story….
They had not cleaned up the suitcase they exploded so you could see it as you came up the stairs. No bomb inside, but hella burnt up underwear, t-shirts, socks, shaving cream and papers. I stood up on a chair in the area to get a better view of the area to catch a glimpse of my friend. I was able to see the person whose suitcase it was they blew up. There was this loud, “What the fuck?!” Ok, that was not said. I actually heard a loud yell in Arabic but I am sure that is what the person was saying. At least it is what I would have said. And personally, the man should count himself lucky they only blew up his bag. The man looked like Osama’s Uncle on his daddy’s side 3rd removed. Seriously, he had the full beard, turban, flowing robes and everything. If he would have left his bag like that in a New York airport, they might have attached him to the bag and blown him up with it just to play it safe. Then when his family came to inquire about their relative, they would have arrested them for conspiracy for terrorism and shipped them to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

Observations on Relationships II

Here is the second part to my observations on relationships.

3.) “I Fell In……” It seems like people are falling in something around here, but it’s not love. I’ve seen people do the Fall in Complacency many times. Meaning, the person isn’t right for them, they KNOW the person isn’t right for them, but they are comfortable with the way things are and don’t want to rock the boat. They enjoy having someone, ANYONE around so they stay. Then there’s the Fall in Fear. They are afraid that’s as good as it gets, there is nothing else better coming so they grab on to what they know they have, instead of having faith that what they want is just a little further down the path. Oh, let’s not the forget the Fall in Paper. This is simply you meet someone who on paper should be the one for you. They have the looks, the personality, the same goals, right pedigree, EVERYTHING on your list has a checkmark next to it. Yet, that spark isn’t there. That Je ne sais pas quality everyone yearns for. So the paper characteristics keep them with that person when they know something essential is missing. Then last but not least.. the Fall in Challenge. The person is ok, but they have a few qualities that keep them from being PERFECT, bad boy, player, stripper, slut, etc, etc. You know, I mean you KNOW with your love that you can get them to change their ways. So you lose sight of the actual love that may exist for that person and focus on the challenge of the “transformation”. Or, you don’t love the person at all and just love the challenge. Eventually you get frustrated, lose site of what’s truly important and become bitter. Just said I tell ya.

4.) Arrogance. In my opinion this may be the most common pitfall I observe in relationships and I think on some level most of us are guilty of this transgression. Think about how many times you’ve thought to yourself, or told your friends, “I’m a great catch for someone. Any man would be lucky to have someone like me as a girlfriend. I have x, y, z which makes me better than average.” I know I’m guilty of this myself. I’m in my 30’s, no kids, no ex-wives, well educated, world traveler, great cook, attractive, I mean, come on. Who wouldn’t want me?? Isn’t that what we say? I went on a date with a woman once and she told me all I needed to know about her in the first 30 minutes. She proceeded to explain to me, in detail mind you, what a man needed to do in a relationship to make her happy. I thought she was crazy. Her requests of what she wanted a man to do weren’t crazy, I thought those were quite reasonable. What made her crazy in my eyes was how she presented these demands/requests on the first date!! Forget telling me about what I need to do, what in the hell are you going to do for me to put up with your insecurities, shortcomings and baggage?? Honestly, think how a relationship would be fundamentally different if we entered into them being a little more appreciative we found someone willing to be by our side while we try to get a little further along the path of understanding and self-discovery. Instead of talking about my lack of alimony I have to pay, or my AMAZING out of this WORLD oral skills which makes me a prize. I need to be telling women right up front, look, I was a late bloomer and was picked on a lot in high school. Because of that, I tend to be really shy at times and not trust people who say I’m attractive or want to get to know me better because I feel unworthy. Or, hey, I make it extremely difficult by setting up walls and pushing people away when I am going through a hard time instead of letting them in and explaining the situation. Right away a woman would know what the fuck she’s getting herself into and she can decide if it’s worth the trouble. Then, if she brings up those issues later, I can tell her “I told you! Don’t act like you didn’t know I was this way!” LOL! Seriously people, we all have these areas of ourselves, from past relationship failures to abusive periods in our former lives that have created scars. We try to over compensate for those scars or hide them because we believe it makes us unattractive. A relationship involves the risk of pain and suffering, so reveal the scars from the start, you never know, maybe that person you’re interested has the same ones and you can help each other out during the healing process. Or, you know from jump it wouldn’t work and you save each other’s time and can maybe salvage a friendship so you can still go to the gym at the same time and act civil when you see each other and not scream and yell and throw 1lb weights at each other and have the staff call the police to escort you out the building in the freezing cold cause you just in a sleeveless t-shirt and basketball shorts and you have a million Turkish people standing around watching, laughing and pointing .. Oh.. uuuuumm…. Yeah. Ok, moving on..

5.) Absence of Education. Now, I don’t mean lack of a college degree or special training. I mean absence of an education in healthy relationships. With a show of hands, who’s parents are still married? Look around, not so many huh? Now, with a show of hands, how many people can honestly say their parents are HAPPILY married?? We are not being “taught” how in the hell a relationship is supposed to work! If many people base what they’ve learned about relationships from today’s culture it’s yell as loud as you can when you have an argument and don’t sit down quietly to hear each other’s side, beat the shit out of each other, don’t try and have empathy and place yourself in the other person’s position and expect them to always work to make it better while you do nothing. I hear about people with serious issues blaming other people for why their relationships aren’t working. As a whole, it seems like society has become selfish, lazy and stubborn. If there were any traits that can cause problems in a relationship, those are it.

I have my faults. Matter of fact, I have MANY faults. The one thing I can say though is that I am very aware of how my faults effect how I interact with people. When I see, or am told what I’m doing, I apologize immediately. It is sad and extremely frustrating to be in a relationship with someone, anyone who either does not possess the ability or refuses to focus internally and question if what you do affects the world around you and the people in that world. It’s one thing to say you aren’t perfect, yet completely different to actually try and improve. Improvement is not about attainting perfection, it’s about moving further along a path. I think it’s obvious from this blog I recently got out of a relationship. Usually, a failed relationship has no effect on me at all. I’m a little sad it ended, but I think, that’s life. This time though… For the first time in YEARS, I wanted this relationship to work. When I say I wanted it to work I say I wanted this woman to be the end all to be all. I gave more of myself to her than I have given anyone. But, according to her, I’m not passionate, expect too much from someone I’m dating and try to talk about problems too much. Right… MOI not passionate??? My Mother tells me a fault of mine is that I’m TOO generous and I’m a bad guy for trying to communicate??? You know what? I wish her the best. I do. There is something about that woman that pulls me to her in a way I can’t understand. I still waking up thinking what can I do to make her happy, when we aren’t together! Maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s complacency, or… maybe it’s love and I’m too arrogant, uneducated or have a lack of restraint to realize she is the one for me… I will say this though; I am finally ready to be in a relationship, a healthy one, a long one. When I find that, I promise, PROMISE that I’ll write a blog about it. Ha!

Observations of Relationships

OBSERVATIONS ON RELATIONSHIPS


Now, it’s obvious I’m not Dr. Phil, Oprah or any other of those well-known relationship experts. I don’t claim to be an expert on how to find, repair or maintain a relationship. I’m just going to tell you what I observe about them. Hopefully I will make you chuckle a few times in the process and provide you with a couple of “Hmmm, interesting.” moments.

Right, so the first thing I’m going to do is define what a relationship is. Seems elementary, however, I’ve observed some people who THINK they are in a relationship when they actually aren’t. So here’s a quick guide for you.

1.) If you ONLY see your “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” after 12am, or get calls in the early morning after they’ve gone out clubbing to come to your place or you theirs, and then they leave at the crack of dawn or they make you leave… that ain’t a relationship! You’re actually just a booty call, OR, you’re dating a damn vampire!

2.) If she only says “I love you” AFTER you take her shopping, is named after an object prominently displayed in hip hop videos, i.e. Cristal, Versace, Mercedes, Gucci, etc, etc, she hides under the table when guys in purple suits walk by and can run hella fast in 5” stiletto pumps… Fo SHO’ you ain’t in a relationship. You’re a damn trick!

3.) If he doesn’t answer his phone around you, or when he refers to you it’s always as “his friend”, hasn’t introduced you to any of his homies… then you ain’t in a relationship babygirl, you’re his jump-off.

4.) If you live in (insert western country here) and he or she lives in Africa, specifically Nigeria…. You MIGHT have a relationship, it is possible. HOWEVER, be wary, very very wary if they ask you for your bank account details to transfer $5 million into your account from the late Dr. Marcus Garvey. You are NOT in a relationship, but a damn scam victim!

With that out of the way, I’m just going to get straight to the point; most relationships in the 21st Century are not working on the most basic levels. Why in my opinion are they not working? Well, I’ve observed that…

1.) Unrealistic expectations and Fallacies. That Walt Disney book you read as a child only BEGINS at the marriage of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. I’m sure Cinderella bashed that glass slipper upside the Prince’s head a few times and Prince Charming had to sleep on the sofa at the damn Seven Dwarves some nights also. I’m not saying happily ever after doesn’t exist; I’m just saying it doesn’t come without some work! There are grown ass people in possession of all legal capacities, walking around seriously expecting to not have to put effort into their relationships just because they met their “Soul mate”. Didn’t you get the memo?? That mess is bogus and you are setting yourself up for a loooooong fall. People aren’t aware of the amount of work a healthy relationship requires. I don’t mean work like the fuckin Seven Dwarves whistling while you work type shit. Or even the damn Oompa Loompahs at Willy Wonka’s Chocolate factory. I’m talking about slave on a plantation in the cotton fields with the hot sun beating down on your neck with occasional lashes from the overseer. Not saying people have to expect a life of Siberian labor and toil in a relationship. Just realize its constant work and sometimes periods of extremely hard work and you have to persevere. The best analogy I’ve heard about relationships is someone compared relationships to a tree. You can’t only focus on the leaves and the fruit. Yes, they make the tree look beautiful and full of life, however, when you don’t see those things, it doesn’t mean the tree is dead. The roots provide the support and nourishment. You wouldn’t cut down a tree in the winter thinking it’s dead right? Every relationship goes through a winter period. Sometimes it’s like a Miami winter really mild with a lot of sunshine but only a little colder. Or, it’s a Artic winter that freezes any exposed skin in a minute. Work through it and make it till spring when the tree comes back to life.

Being 100% head over heels in love with someone does not mean you stop noticing all the beautiful people walking around in this world. You are still going to be attracted to other people, flirt with them, and even want to have sex with them! That’s normal people! What makes it maybe not the BEST idea is when you ACT on those feelings. An important component of a relationship is loyalty. BUT, doesn’t mean your partner can’t be tempted. Eat some Ben & Jerry’s, deal with it and move on.

2.) Lack of Restraint.

“If pussy were a stock women, it’d be worthless cause you’ve flooded the market.” Dave Chappelle

Think about that quote for a second women. Think real REAL hard about it. On a lot of levels, women determine from the outset the limits and boundaries of a relationship. Fifty years ago, men knew that the moment they began to court a woman they had to bring their A game. They were always respectful, decent and dedicated! Why? Cause they had to be! The women wouldn’t have accepted anything less! The men had to make a conscious decision to give everything they had or they weren’t getting the coochie. When did they get the coochie? On the damn wedding night! I’m just saying, pussy is everywhere these days. I personally sometimes can’t walk down the street without trippin over pussy some days. It’s Ridickulous! Men think that if a woman doesn’t give it up before a certain time, she ain’t worth it and we move on to the next woman. The truly fucked up thing is that a woman can decide to wait for a guy to show some decency and test his interest in her to see if it’s genuine and you know what happens?? She’s just lonely after a few days. Why?? Because another woman has said, “Fuck it.” And literally.. Fucks it! It’s going to take a cultural shift of ALL women to force men to return to the days of yore, the days of putting in the work to prove he deserved your time… and coochie. Yeah, it sucks. Men should be held accountable for their actions and step up and realize how much better having making love with a woman you have true feelings for is better than random one night stands. Unfortunately women, that spontaneous enlightenment hasn’t happened in ooooh, thousands of years. So don’t expect it to happen anytime soon. There are men who have absolutely NO game walking around thinking they are PIMPS! Why? Because women are trying to use their sex to get love, in the process skewing the relationship universe. Get your girlfriends together, spread the word, invest in vibrators and stop giving it up until men are mature enough to earn the right to be in a relationship with you. This right here is a blog unto itself. However, I’ll leave it at this for now.

Observations of Latvia

LATVIAN OBSERVATIONS

Latvia.....I could seriously write a book alone on Latvia. I know some of my observations and stories seem far-fetched, but I swear that they only have slight exaggeration. These Latvian observations are ALL true. They are too out of control to be made up by even my creative ability. Also, over half the population of people in the cities of Latvia are Russian. All of the children we came in contact with where Russian except for two. That means 90% of my observations are of Russian children and parents, NOT Latvians. So, with that out of the way, Lat Vee good times roll!

1.) Ok, first observation is not funny or anything, it’s just a fact. My impressions of Latvia before I arrived were of some cold, dingy, ugly former Soviet Republic full of manly looking women dressed in clothes 20 years behind the times. Riga, the capital of Latvia is gorgeous! It has charm, character and a great place to visit during the summer. Truly surprised me it did. I had the best time going out in Riga during my free time. And there is nothing poor about Latvia, it’s currency is stronger than the English Pound. For all you non-traveling people out there, the English pound is worth about $1.82. So the Latvian Lit is almost $2.00. Saw so many nice cars in that city it wasn’t even funny. Was not what I expected at all. Not cold, not dingy, and I have to admit Russian women are incredibly beautiful, but they did dress in clothes that were 20 years behind the time however. So I was right about one thing.

2.) Speaking of Russian women. Yes, they are beautiful, but lord if they don’t dress like pure hoochies!! The streets of Riga are mostly these old, cobblestone streets that are difficult to walk on in sneakers. Women in Riga not only wear 5” heels on the regular, but they wear the ones with those really pointed toes. You know the ones, that look like elf shoes with how pointed they are? Like they can kill spiders hiding in the corners? Those shoes. Have to admit though; they do pretty well in walking in them. But wearing them ALL the time with EVERYTHING? I’m no gay man, but I know a tad bit about fashion. Wearing cut-off jean shorts and a raggedy t-shirt is not the time to wear stiletto pumps. If it wasn’t skin tight, see through, mesh, short or ripped Russian women weren’t wearing it. We met the parents of the children for an info session a few days before the camp started. All the mothers down to the last made me want to break out into, “ U ain’t nothin’ but a hoochie mamma! Hump back hump back hoochie mamma!¨ I love my mother to death and I think she is a beautiful woman. HOWEVER, let my momma show up at a meeting with my teachers wearing a mesh, fluorescent green, shirt with a white SEE-THROUGH lace bra underneath and sheer white pants showing off her black lace thong and we are fightin’. Ain’t know way I’m letting her out the house lookin’ like that! But someone let the mother who wore that out the house. Scary thing is though, she fit right in with the others. Speaking of clothes….The women in general always wore these T-shirts with sexual innuendoes on them. Saw a woman wearing a shirt that said, “If you got the balls, I got the game.” Another said, “Jamaican man’s fantasy”. Jamaican man’s fantasy?? How could a Russian woman living in Latvia be a Jamaican man’s fantasy? How many Jamaican men you know could tell you where Latvia is? How many of you had even HEARD of Latvia until I got sent there? So how could she be a Jamaican man’s fantasy? I’m stilling thinking of that one. And when did Jamaican men start fantasizing about tall, skinny, flat assed, white women? Did I miss that on all my travels?

3.) Yes, Russian women are very attractive, but the men? Oh my lord they were ugly. I kept thinking Mitochondria DNA to myself every time I passed a group of Russian men. If you don’t know what it is, Mitochondria is DNA that is ONLY passed from Mother to Daughter. So the good looks of the mother were passed to the daughters but the sons were S.O.L. One thing Russian men did that warmed me to my heart and reminded me of St. Petersburg, Florida was….they wore socks with sandals. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!! In the morning, socks with sandals, in the afternoon in the grocery store, socks with sandals, in the bars, socks with sandals. Now if they would just get gold fronts and wear clothes 5 times to big it will be JUST like Stank Pete.

4.) Back to the parents…All the parents who sent their kids to the camp had loot. I mean serious money. Those kids had traveled all over the world when you asked them where they had gone. You name the country they had been. A lot of them had even gone to these countries on their own or with their friends on Tour groups. But the way those parents were acting you’d think the company had hired a bunch of ex-catholic priests to take the kids to Iraq. They were so worried about sending their kids 2 hours away in LATVIA. I know Americans have a reputation for being ignorant, loud, fat and all of that, but I had no idea we were known for eating kids. That’s what the parents were acting like.

5.) Now, the parents were worried about their kids…Hell, they should have been worried about us. Russian girls are great I have to admit. A few thought they were princesses, but what do you expect when your dad owns a fleet of oil tankers? The Russian girls were always quick to play sports and run around, can’t say that about the French females. The Russian boys….Lord have mercy! The most violent kids I have EVER worked with in my life. I grew up in South St. Pete, it’s no Compton or Spanish Harlem by any means, but I went to Campbell’s Park and Jordan Park, I worked in Lower Roxbury in Boston and East Palo Alto. Those kids were dreams compared to these Russian boys. It was like they didn’t have the part of the brain that has impulse control. Didn’t matter if an adult was around, or not. Someone said something to one, the other punched him straight in the mouth. No wrestling on the ground at all with these kids. In the classes, at meals, during activities, fighting, fighting, fighting. You would separate the kids, explain to them why you yelled at them (most of the kids spoke very good English) then before you even turned away they would be going at it again. The other teachers would try and use punishment like, no free time, or no candy to get the kids to behave. Me? I have Negro tendencies and always will. Kid got on my nerves or wouldn’t listen? “You betta stop before I kick you in the throat.” They understood that and left me the hell alone. Not only were the boys violent, but they could NOT pee in a straight line. We would go into the toilets after them, and there would be piss not just on the seat…but BEHIND the toilet, on the sides of the toilet, on the WALLS, everywhere! I am not joking. We got to the point where we had to escort the boys to the toilets and wait outside them until they came out to make sure they didn’t piss everywhere. I decided the boys would go into the bathroom, pull down their pants all the way to their ankles, raise up their arms over their heads and just go WEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEE WEEEEE swinging from side to side. How else could pee get BEHIND the toilet?

6.) Because none of the teachers spoke Russian, we had an interpreter of course to communicate with those kids that didn’t speak English well. Well, we needed an interpreter for the interpreter. She was a 46 year old teacher who’s father was a Captain in the Soviet Navy and always spoke about how she longed for the Soviet Union to return. The first session kids we had spoke English almost as well as the teachers. One girl was born in New Jersey and had a U.S. Passport. For some reason, Russian women speak at least an octave lower than the average woman. And Petra, the interpreter, had an accent like Russians do in movies from the states. She sounded EXACTLY like that. She would say the most random things, or say things in a way that all of us would look at each other and say….”What the hell!?” Before the kids arrived at the site, we were having our last meal with just the teachers before the session started. There are all these different types of teas on the table. One of the teachers doesn’t like flavoured teas. So Petra says to him, and I am quoting, get the thick, Russian accent in your heads ready, ”Maybe you should try black, it goes deeper and is good for you.” Boy let me tell you…Everybody just fell out laughing. I am getting that on a T-shirt as soon as I can. Then, in the middle of the day she would come back and tell me that she had just been swimming in the lake, “With no cloth-dez.” I would be thinking….Now why in the hell would she tell me that? Why would I want to know she had just been swimming butt naked in the middle of the day. And the lake we had? It was only right down the path to the entrance to the site of the camp. What if I had gone jogging, or taken the kids out for an activity? Not like there where trees surrounding the lake blocking the view. Anyone and everyone could have seen. One night…I was going to my room and she passed me and said “Supafly (my camp name if you don’t know) Maybe you would like something tasty this evening?” I was like HUH!? The way she was looking at me when she said that scared me. Then she tried to play it off by saying, Vodka or Whiskey. Yeah bitch, I knew what you meant you freak! She was always saying little things like that to me. One time…The director was telling her that since it was hot we were going to take the kids swimming instead of the planned activity. She said, and again another quote…”No.” “Why not Petra?” “Cause we have no potatoes.” What does not having any potatoes do with taking the kids swimming? Will someone PLEASE tell me? We are all still trying to figure that one out. I could write observations just on Petra. That woman was a TRIP.

7.) Home remedies. Actually, this should be Petra’s home remedies. When you have a communal setting like a camp, one person gets sick, everyone eventually gets sick. So colds get passed from one person to another. Maaaan, when Petra heard you coughing you were in trouble. She would take the kids up to her room, and you would year this weird sound coming from her room. We could never figure out what the hell it was. It was like some high pitched wining sound. Finally, I got sick from the kids and we found out what the high pitched whining sound was. It was this….some sort of….this device I guess. It had miniature paddles like a heart defibulator that you put to your throat. Then you turn it on and all these really high pitched sounds would come out of the paddles. She said it was to increase the blood flow to your throat. All it made me was deaf. After using that, she would put this greasy stuff that smelled like straight budissy on a kid’s throat, wrap it up in this HUGE scarf and make them sleep in it. I got out of having one of those things. But she started giving me these teas to drink. I finally asked her what was in it….”Grass.” Grass? “Yes, grass from the forest I picked.” Stopped drinking those teas. I got all congested one day and couldn’t breathe through my nose at all. Petra came up to the boys side where I was with this cup. She says, “Supafly, I am alive, the children are alive, maybe you will be alive after taking this.” It’s a lot of things you say to someone to get them to try your home remedy, THAT ain’t one of them. MAYBE I will be alive?? What are you trying to give me? She finally explained it was only carrots, onions and some kind of oil. I figured it would be like taking a spoonful of soup so I said ok. She pulled out an eye dropper type thing and sucked up some of the….concoction in that. I thought why not just use a spoon….. Anyway, she comes toward me and I open my mouth and she says, no through your nose. THROUGH MY NOSE!!!! Oh hell no! I am not letting you squirt soup up my nose! I thought the bitch had gone crazy. She would not leave me alone with that stuff. Finally I relented, I was miserable at that point cause of how congested I was. I hadn’t slept for 2 days and was a walking zombie. So my defenses were low and I couldn’t say no forever. Anyway, held my head back and she squirted that mess up my nose. I thought I was going to die! It burned like someone stuck a lit match up my nose. I started gagging and coughing. She told me to come near her so she could see if I was alright…Came by her and she jammed the bottle up my nose again and squirted the other nostril! You bitch! The other teachers were laughing their asses off at me while I’m rollin’ around on the ground drowning on soup. Didn’t sleep at all the entire night cause I kept on smelling onion on my breath. After that, if my ass had to hiccup I made sure Petra wasn’t around to hear me. She asked me how I was doing I told her fantastic even if I felt like warm dudu. I was not going to try any more of her home remedies.

Observations of France II

FRENCH OBSERVATIONS II

Here is the second part to my French Observations. Hope you still find them amusing and thought provoking.

1.) One of the strangest things I have observed by far in my travels. In France, they start counting on their thumbs, where as in the states if we begin counting we usually start with our index finger and the thumb is five. That in itself is no big deal at all. The big deal that after 2 ½ months I don’t get is this….In France, since the thumb is one, the index finger is two…even if you hold it up alone. When the kids arrive we don’t know their levels of English, so we tell them to line up one by one to test them. Since most of us are North American (States and Canada for you slow readers) we hold up our index finger and say one by one in line. Well two French kids always step forward and they line up two by two. What the hell??!! One finger is one finger right? If in China they start counting on the ring finger and end on the index finger I don’t need to speak Mandarin to know they mean one if they old up their ring finger only. I am not going to assume they mean 3 just because it is usually the third finger counted in the States. It’s the damnedest thing I have ever seen! We thought we just had a dumb group of kids and tried it next week…..Same thing!! You go out to a bar or restaurant and hold up your index finger to indicate you want one of something you would think you’d get one right? Wrong! Yo’ ass is gettin’ two! Are there any other countries in the world that do this? That assigns values to individual digits so no matter how many fingers you hold up that is the value implied? Me being a tad bit ghetto, I like to mess with the kids heads and hold up my thumb and pinky and say two by two. They don’t know what in the hell to do. They are like deer stuck in headlights. In a town of 50 people you have to amuse yourself
somehow.

2.) This next observation is a stab at the US. Why do we call it French kissing, French fries and French toast?? Has anyone ever thought to ask if there are even French fries or toast in France? Well there isn’t! They eat Fries over here, but they don’t call them French fries. And they don’t eat French toast and call it “Our” toast. They don’t even know what “French” toast is even. What dummy started calling it those things in the states? The French word for fries is similar to the Spanish word papas. IF they use an English word for them they are called chips as they are called in England. They have NO clue about French toast here. The only thing they will dip toast in here is coffee and that’s it. They don’t even know what the hell syrup is over here. We serve an American Brunch on the last day and we have to practically force the kids to try maple syrup. Maybe that Senator was on to something when he suggested changing them to Freedom fries and Freedom toast. The French were happy the name was being changed since they had nothing to do with either anyway. Oh, and French kissing over here is translated to literally mean, “Shoveling the dirt.” I swear that is what it means literally in English. Kinda takes the romance out of it when you compare it to shoveling sand and mud. They also can’t understand how we “French” kiss in the states and that’s it. In France if you kiss like that it implies sex is going to follow. It is considered VERY rude and in poor taste to lead a person on like that here. Hhhhmmmm….. Maybe the French are on to something. Women in the states, let me copy and paste that last sentence for you again. In France if you kiss like that it implies sex is going to follow. It is considered VERY rude and in poor taste to lead a person on like that here. I am going to attempt to arrange an exchange of specific cultural norms from each country with the US and French governments. The US gets the idea of sex always following French kissing, and France gets the ingredients to all of your extra strength deo. I think it’s a fair trade. On a side note….Swiss cheese in Switzerland is translated into English meaning “That cheese with all those damn holes in it.” Just kidding!!!!

3.) This isn’t an observation specific to France but in my travels in general. I have been to a few countries in my life. What amazes me the most is the influence the United States has on other countries. For example, most people know about the cool relationship between France and the U.S. now because of the Iraq war, but being here in France I see more FUBU, Karl Kani, Phat Farm, NBA Jerseys, Du-rags and “ice” than if I were in NYC or LA. A lot of countries may hate our foreign policy, but they love our culture. The sad thing is how many people in the States know anything about these other countries? I don’t mean knowing a ton about every single little country in the world. But just the basics like if they are in Europe or Central America, etc, etc. I will be working in Latvia this summer teaching English. I found out today that they had to move the site because of me. Because of me??!! When the owner found out a black American was coming they knew the word would get out and people not associated with the school would be trying to come and have a look since everyone loves Americans there. If you don’t know, Latvia is bordered by Russia, Poland and Sweden. So it is nowhere near the U.S. yet they know more about the U.S. then the average American. Someone told me once that 7% of Americans have passports. I don’t consider any of you to be average, so how many of you are in that elite 7%?? I have learned so much about myself visiting other countries and have found a deeper appreciation for who I am and where I have come from through my travels. It took me living in Central America to appreciate the beauty of being black and living in NZ to realize the impact of my culture. France has taught me the danger of being so ignorant of other peoples culture and ideologies. Anyway, those are all the observations I have for now.

Observations of France

FRENCH OBSERVATIONS

This will be a two part observation for France. I am working in a very small village so I am sure once I get to a bigger city I will have more things that catch my eye. With that, in France I have noticed….

1.) France has been invaded twice by Germany in the last 90 years, had German troops marching down the main avenue in Paris and everything. You would think that they hate Germans more than anything right? Wrong! They hate people from England with a passion. And it was the English who helped them out in both World Wars. I don’t get it. You ask a Frenchman about Germans and he says they are OK people. Ask him about an Englishman and they get so upset they get foamed at the mouth and go on for hours. They talk about wars that happened 400 hundred years ago!! Get over it already! MAYBE, the French are afraid of the Germans like Craig and Smokey are afraid of Devo in Friday the movie! And they think if they talk about the Germans they will invade them once again! They know if they talk about the English, they won’t do a damn thing about it. It would explain a lot of things.

2.) Everyone talks about how smelly the French are and how they don’t take showers. I am here to tell you that it is not true. Actually, it isn’t completely true. The French just have really weak deodorant. If they barely break a sweat it wears off, after 5pm it’s worn off. I think, that people who think French people are stank met a French person AFTER 5pm who was running late and had to run to the meeting place! If they made their deodorant stronger people wouldn’t have that assumption of Frenchies.

3.) One VERY interesting thing here I have observed. The site I am at has French cable. Having French cable you would assume all the stations are in French right? Wrong! Most of the stations are in GERMAN! At first, I couldn’t figure it out. Then I thought about it. If your country bordered another country that was always invading you, wouldn’t you want to know what the hell they were doing?? I guess the French figure that if they watch German TV; the Germans might broadcast the attack plans if they ever get the urge to march through Paris again. News at 11 on German CNN, “Ve are gozing to attack Franze againz. Pleaze makez outz a list of French perfumez and wines you wish to have on our soldierz triumphant return.” After that announcement, the French decide to hold a serious of talks and discussions if they are going to mobilize their military or hope the U.S. and U.K. save their asses yet again. Sounds crazy? Yes. But how else do you explain it??

4.) French Cuisine isn’t all it is made out to be. Maybe because I am ghetto and am still happy with Kool-aid, fish and cheese grits and Now & Laters. The food is so bland. They only seasoning they use is garlic. Garlic in the mashed potatoes, garlic in the scrambled eggs, garlic in the salad. Making me think there are vampires in the area and they are just trying to protect us or something. Also, French people have the weakest tongues. The director here got some BBQ sauce sent from the states. We had the French counselors and students try some. They all acted like we had put fire on their tongues. They said it was too hot. When we have chili con carne, same thing. They act like they are eating straight chili peppers. While we are on French cuisine I need to talk about their love of bread! They eat bread with their meals here like it’s going out of style. That is kind of whatever. How they use their bread is interesting to me. First of all, they never put it on their plate. It’s always placed on the side of the plate on the table. Second, it has to be broken up before eating the first bite. They use their bread like knives to get that last little bit of rice or pasta on to their forks. And after that they literally use the bread to clean their plate. They almost scrub the plate with their bread to get every last single molecule of food off of it. Doesn’t matter if it is salad dressing, corn juice or pasta sauce, they do it with anything.

5.) French people are white. I mean that in the sense that they can’t dance and when you ask them to clap they can’t keep it going for more than 10 seconds without them going faster and faster and faster. And their showers are built for skinny white people. I take a shower and if I turn around at all, my big black ass hits the shower knob and turns the water off or to cold. So I alternate between hot and cold all the time, probably why I caught a cold. I try and not move left or right when I shower, but I always forget and turn and bam! My ass turns the knob to freezing. I know other black and Latin people in France have problems just like I do.

Those are my observations so far of this country. The area I am in is beautiful. I am 30 minutes from the border of Spain up in the Pyrenees Mountains. All the homes are hundreds of years old and passed down through the families. These villages are very poor are very traditional Catholics so the churches and cathedrals are amazing with all the gold and jewels in the alters. Don’t need to tell you no black and Puerto Ricans are around here! We would see Tyrone walking down the street….”Hey boy, where in the hell did you get that big ass gold cross from hanging from yo neck! You stole it from da church!”

Observations of New Zealand...

NEW ZEALAND OBSERVATIONS


As most of you know, I pay a lot of attention to detail and love to people watch. These are just some of my observations of New Zealand. Some are meant to be funny, some are meant to be interesting and some will make you think that I have entirely too much time on my hands to notice that. Well, here they are…


1. Every country has slang, I realize that. In New Zealand, the slang they use the most is the word “as.” I’m serious. If something is good or nice, they say, “Sweet as.” Or if a female looks good, they say she was “Fine as.” Me being me, I always got upset and asked, sweet as what???? Or fine as what???? How can you use a word like “as” that implies you are going to make a comparison or show a parallel and then not finish it!!!! I teased everyone here about that. Are they not smart enough to just add another word to the statement? Sweet as honey, or Hot as f*ck, or Fine as hell.

2. Ok. I’m sure everyone has seen the whole Janet Jackson nipple thing a million times. It was VERY interesting to be in another country while it happened. New Zealand as a country has actually made fun of the United States for how uptight we are. They just assumed we constantly show things like that on T.V. since we only make up 6% of the worlds population but produce 50% of the worlds Pornography. Here, nothing is edited out of radio or T.V. after 8:30pm. Meaning, on regular network T.V., NBC, ABC, FOX, CBS whoever they show ass and titties after 8:30pm. First time I saw it I couldn’t believe it!! They showed the movie Best Man. You know that movie, with Taye Diggs, Morris Chestnut and Nia Long. Anyway, they curse a lot in that movie. Not a single word bleeped or changed. It’s like, why buy cable here if you get to see the unedited version on network TV. Rap songs? You here the FULL version. No clean radio version here after 8:30pm. At first I thought it was too over the top. But when you realize that New Zealand’s teen pregnancy rate is only a quarter of the U.S., there teen drug use is a third of the states, it kind of makes you wonder if we loosened up in the states and started getting into an uproar over our education system, our justice system and our lack of national healthcare what we could accomplish as a nation.

3. Every country has news programs. And every news program has a weather segment. New Zealand needs to get rid of theirs. The Meteorologists are ALWAYS wrong. It’s a national joke here. People watch the Australian news here to get New Zealand weather. December, January and February are the summer months here in New Zealand. At the start they said it was going to be a wet and cold month of December. We had drought like conditions. It was like the Gobi desert here! Everything was brown. Sheep and cows were dying by the hundreds. Then they said the drought was going to continue. This last month has been the wettest in the history of the island!!! It rained for 2 weeks straight at one point. I mean 2 weeks straight!!! No break, no raining for a few hours then it stopped. Constant rain for 2 whole weeks!! People were kayaking to work. Even day to day reports are always wrong. It is so bad; people go on the opposite of what the weather reports are. They say sunny and nice, people take umbrellas and ponchos. They say rain and storms, people plan vacations and picnics. Someone needs to invest in a weather satellite and stop looking outside right before the report and guessing what the day’s weather is going to be.

4. While we are on the topic of the News Programs, the female anchors here all dress like hoochies. I have seen more cleavage on the 10pm news here than in an Outkast video. Feminine business suits? No. Low cut blouses, zip up jackets only zipped up halfway and see-through shirts are the norm. One night it was so bad I wrote in to the station to say I couldn’t concentrate on the news cause I was staring at the areola of the news presenter she had her jacket open so wide. Madness I tell you.

5. Every country has national pride. There is nothing wrong with that. But New Zealand takes it to the extreme. Any accomplishment by a Kiwi it’s on the news. Now if it was for sports, or movies, or something like that…. great. How about one night they were showing on all the news programs that a Kiwi female had made the cover of…not Cosmo, not Redbook, not even Playboy. They had a news program about a Kiwi that made the cover of Penthouse. Penthouse??!! And they had a huge segment on it! They re-created how she posed for the magazine. Now, you all know I’m not a prude by any means. But I don’t want to see open-leg coochie shots and bananas being used as penises during the news.

6. Some of you may not now, but I took up Martial Arts here, Jiu-Jitsu. The owner of the academy also ran a security company. To make extra cash I started working security for him. One of the bars I had to work the door for was this gay bar. It was funny to me to have straight Kiwi guys walk up and ask me what type of bar it was. I would tell them a gay bar and they would have all these jokes and negative things to say about the place and homosexuals, but then they would go down the road and go to a bar that had nothing but guys in the place. The culture here is for men to go to the bar or pub with their guy friends. And they prefer if there are no females there so they can hang out with the fellas. Now, I’m no genius, but isn’t that what gay men do??? They go to bars where there are only men and no women to hang out with the fellas??? I didn’t get that. In the states if a group of guys go out to a bar and there are no women…we are out. And we keep on going till we find a club or bar with females in it.

7. I should stay on Kiwi males. Kiwi males pride themselves on being really tough and manly. They make fun of how girly men in the states are constantly. About how we play football and use pads because we can’t take the pain and things like that. Anyway, if they are such men, then why in the hell do they wear such short shorts??? I’m not lying. The men wear shorts here that barely cover their asses. Hooker shorts and steel toe construction boots is the look for every Kiwi male over 35. I have seen enough hairy nuts to last me this lifetime, my next one and a few of you who will read this lifetimes. Disgusting. But they swear they are manly. Wearing ho shorts sitting in bars with all men. I don’t get it.