Day 27

Day 27
May 30

I'm laying in bed in kisumu. I traveld here today with my friend
bennett ( a school teacher and also 22 ) to prepare for the big Sunday
market. Here, they have all sorts of things foreign to mbita, as it is
basically and island.

To get to kisumu from mbita is no small task. It starts with a 45
minute fairy ride to the port. After that, it's a 2 hour bus ride into
the city. The road ( if you want to call it that ) is a bumping,
winding, white knuckle journey. The type that most white folks pay
good money to ride on at amusement parks.

If you arive in the evening there is quite a welcome commitee. A pack
of young men with the task to escort whoever off of the incoming bus
to the Nairobi or Eldoret expess, regaurdless of your actual
destination. Bennett tells they get 'ten-bob' (twelve cents) a head
for guided customers. Boy, those dudes work hard for their money.

We set out for a Late dinner on a took-took ( three wheeled car ) at
about 9. I ate about three pieces of ( literally ) The worst beef i've
ever had, and many chipatis. Beggers can't be choosers, next time I'll
arrive earlier and find a real resturant. To be honest, I only walked
in the place because they had a cheesburger painted on the wall. Let
me just admit to wanting one more than I ever have in my life. Turns
out, that's bullshit. No burgers. The workers weren't even worried
about bringing a microwave oven out of the back, plugging it in, and
nuking our dinner orders. Tibs.

Since we had heard all about the octopus; bottoms up Club, and it was
but a few blocks away, we decided to check it out. Turns out that
summit beer is on special there ( through the month of may ). 3 for 2.
What does that mean for two young men? We each get one then we have
another to give a young lady. That's true. But let my tell you
something about the octopus; bottoms up club. There are young women
about, they're even eager to take a drink from a young gent. One
problem, all prostitutes.

Just as the cooks weren't shy about the microwave, these girls weren't
shy about their line of work. I've been to eastern Europe, but this is
a different matter.

I know that I'm a naive boy from the Midwest, but this took me by
surprise. I've deduced that it's hard to talk to a prostitute about
the following things that I might with a normal person:

'So, what brings you here tonight?'
'what line of work are you in?'
'where did you go to school?'
'do you have a boyfriend?'
'busy day at work?'
'big plans this weekend?'

Topics that seem to be more prostitute-friendly*:
**though these may be phrased as questions, they're really more like
commands.**
Wanting a drink ( 'you buy me one beer, yes?' )
Wanting a ciggarette ( 'give me American smoke?' )
Wanting to talk about leaving ( 'to your house we go, now!' )
Wanting to dance ( 'we dance and you buy me one beer.' )
Economics ( 'I know you mozungoo buy me one beer.' )

I've been in places with prostitution, but never the entire population
of females at a social gathering. From what i've heard, this is not
uncommon for kisumu.

I recently watched a show about the wild west. It said that
prostitution is the oldest female trade known to man. So I'll hand it
to them for keeping tradition, but it really bummed me out for the
evening. It's sad stuff. On the other hand, I can relate. Artist are
the most glorified hoes of all.

Anyways, tomorrow I'll be back mbita, ready to work with new materials.

-Cheers