Intercultural Communication

The Chinese are taking over. They're building our buildings (that sounded odd) & paving our roads, setting up CCTV & even bought the rights to digital TV broadcasting in the +254. AND they have the biggest reserve of Dollars in the world, more than the country the currency comes from!!! (Like if Somalia had more Ksh. than we did... Oh, wait...) If Russell Peters is right, the world will end up Beige at this rate. At least there'll be no more racism!

I have Chinese neighbours. & yes, they do work for China Wu Yi (road constructors extraordinaré). Considering where I live, that's an odd happenstance. Needless to say noisemaking has gone down in the flat. I think its coz of the fear that they will break through the wall and kick our collective arses. & that wouldn't be a good look, would it?

The one time I tried to say hi to one of them, he just enthusiastically shouted "Jambo!" & walked away. Foreigners are weird like that, they say one Swa word & beam with pride. Another time we had no water. I walked up the stairs to find the Chinese guy locking up his flat. Like a good jirani I said hi. Chinese dude cuts me off and says "No waaater! Oh nooo!" while shaking his head. & I died of laughter, in my head. To avoid arse whooping.

But I like these Chinese homies. Every time there's something wrong in the building, they complain to no end. Which makes the Kenyan tenants look complacent as shite, but hey. & the caretaker is such a kiss-arse, it's good for everyone in the end. They're super quiet. I think they even mute their TV & read lips instead (coz they're Shaolin like that). They could be commiting mass murder in their flat, & you could never guess.

Apparently they're mad into debaushare & horgies (according to a chica pal who lives in the flat under them), but you'd never see said chicas exiting or entering. Sneaky shaolin vibes. Taking the literal approach to "go forth & multiply", well in. They fit in well to the +254 scheme of things.

So I hope everyone is ready for Communism. I know I am. Because they came here to build, populate & basically take over. Brushing up on my Mandarin & hanging out with my Chinese peeps next door. So when the take over happens, I'll be ahead of the line.

Do enjoy your weekend.

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Goal! Goal! Goal!!!

So now that the "striker type" was covered in a previous post (scroll down a few), it only made sense to cover the different "goal types" can that scored.

1. Team Goal

These involve large amounts of "passing", i.e. great assistance from your cohorts. They tend to be well set up, and need a great amount of skill on the part of both the cohorts and the "striker". Great for replays.

2. Crosses & Through Balls

These are heavily reliant on the expertise of the cohort, & normally occur in cases of heavy cockblocking abound. The cohort splits the defence with a brilliant through pass or cross. The "striker" then latches on to this opportunity to score accordingly.

3. Long range scorchers

These are goals that one has no business scoring. More often done in blind hope due to lack of success in approach play. Cockblockers move out of the way of these ones, less they lose a limb. As they say, a desperate man...

4. Free Kicks

These are of two types: the finesse and the brute force. They always start with an "infringement", a breakdown in the chipsing attempt. After a huddle with the cohorts, the "striker" unleashes a powerful striker. Or a cohort sets up a dummy run to distract cockblockers, leaving the "striker" free to score.

5. Penalty

A grevious mistake on the part of a cockblocker results in a one on one chance with the target. These are deceptive, and overconfidence leads to a weak attempt that WILL be saved. Best to pick a "spot", i.e. tactic, then hit hard & true.

6. Rebound

This is from the previous attempt of another "striker". They almost made it but great cockblocking foiled them. Or the lady who was with her chap all night just had a falling out with him. The opportunity is still there for a moment, so the expert "poacher" pounces.

7. Individual Goal

This is the preserve of the highly skilled individual. The striker dribbles past several "defenders" before easing the ball into the back of the 'net. Never a forceful endeavour, it is an exhibition of finesse.

Whew, and that's that. My inner 5yr old keeps running rampant. Now that he has been appeased, I can go back to the important things. Like cartoons!

Do enjoy your weekend.

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C.R.E.A.M.

*C.R.E.A.M. - Cash Rules Everything Around Me. A term coined by the Wu Tang Clan, & a superior hip hop track.

There's been a recurrent argument myself & @ch1ps_beba keep having, strangely enough with women. Its about money, more so that it can get you ANYTHING you desire on this earth (the women mostly disagreed). Everything short of the positive supernatural, that is (coz Jésus owns EVERYTHING, what can I possibly bribe him with?).

There are a lot of differing basic principles about money, and a lot of misconceptions. So in this episode, I will argue for my stand, starting each argument with people's statements.

1. Money can't buy you happiness.

Yes it can. Think of all the things you have wanted but couldn't get. From that toy when you were a wee snot-nosed tot, to that phone with über cool features last week. All because you didn't have money. Would getting said material things make you happy, if only for the moment? Would the ability to feed, clothe & provide shelter for yourself and family (where applicable) comfortably make you happy? I think so. I know I would be ecstatic, but I digress...

2. Money can't buy you Love.

No it won't, directly anyway, but it helps. & I do not refer to the 'cash transaction, one night of exctasy' type of love. Men, pay attention now. One of the most important qualities a woman looks for in a man later in life (or now, even) is the ability to provide. In the Stone Age, it would've been your strength, ability to hunt & provide security. Today, all these aspects of provision are more or less linked to finances. Enter money. Because that chap in the Merc will always be perceived to be able to provide more than the chap in a Probox (how I hate those things! But a story for another day).

3. Money can't hide the fact that you are stupid.

Some people are just obstinate, & languish in their lower intellect for eternity. But for those with good sense, the best cure for obtuseness is education. & education is the most expensive undertaking you can engage in in Kenya today. That's why when you got a bad grade in school, your parents were most unamused *cue belt crackle*. Money can get you into the best schools to get you the best 'brain'. Whether you follow up on this opportunity is entirely up to the individual.

4. Money can't hide the fact that you are unattractive.

Get plastic surgery. Or augmentations. Or you could just improve your wardrobe to make yourself appealing. Because sex appeal is not just about the body, but how we dress it. Even the prettiest princess needs the royal robes & crown to be complete. Otherwise she's just a nondescript.

5. Money is the Root of All Evil.

This is my favourite. Money is a piece of paper or a metal coin. An inanimate object. How this can ooze evil & drive one to madness is beyond me. Rather, it is (some) human beings who are evil. They steal money from others & horde to facilitate their gluttonous desires *cough POLITICIANS cough*. Money is the means to an end, lest we forget. If we went back to cowrie shells, don't be surprised to see some yelling 'Cowrie shells are the root of all evil!' & then what...?

*Cow and Chicken voice* END.

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What I Went To School For

So, University. Its hard to believe its finally over, how one day (Graduation) sums up 3, 4 or 5 odd years of 'education'. Education with regards to books & smarts. Education with regards to the social, academic & even spiritual. Sitting in that line waiting to be 'commenced' into the 'real world', the importance of school in its totality & lessons it taught finally hit me (So thank you Moms & Pops for forcing me to go).

So my list of top lessons goes like this:

*The best teachers will educate you about class work & life.

*Going to class religiously doesn't guarantee good grades.

*Not going to class AT ALL is an extreme sport. You're bound to break something.

*It is imperative that you have a plan. In EVERYTHING you do.

*Books are important, but so is living. Find a balance now to save learning this in future.

*In as much as we are there to learn, we're also there to explore our talents.

*You only need a handful of friends. The ones who'll tell you 'Hiyo hairstyle? Hapana!' or 'Those clothes? No.'

*Because someone is in university doesn't mean they aren't ignorant.

*There's something strangely gratifying about watching someone else cock up spectacularly.

*Having a constructive argument with some human beings is next to impossible.

*Some human beings have TOO MANY PROBLEMS.

*Never underestimate the importance of a level-headed partner (never thought I'd say THAT).

*The best way to avoid being derailed is to RUN AWAY.

*Learn from other people's mistakes. Because children are a MASSIVE commitment, & herpes is forever...

A special congratulations to USIU Class of 2011. All the people who I met there, from the soft spoken & withdrawn to the downright mental, thank you. You have taught me & many others a great deal, & made us ready (partly) for the madness that is this world.

For Oscar, Carol & all those who should have graduated with us: we hope to make you proud. Love.

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For Aunt Miriam

I have not met many people in my life that exuded love like you did. You always fought for the right thing & showed us how to do the same. Your focus and drive were both absolute & infectious.

Your children will miss you. Your family & friends will miss you. This world will miss you.

Love you always.

Tunawapiga Bao...

The good thing about being 5 years old (in your head, anyway) is relating everything with something you love. So for me & my accomplices for this episode (@stiviz & @madnjomz) its football. & before all the ladies cue their exits, hold on... OK, I lie.

When it comes to pursuing women, most men (fine, ALL) like to think of themselves as "strikers". The go-to guys, the finishers. Occasionally you play "midfield", i.e. through pass your pal, but all guys want to "score".

So of course, there's different "strikers". We have the "Bendtner's" of the world. The guys who talk a lot of smack & hype talk, but never score or score really scrappy goals. Pay themm no mind.

Second, we have the "English strikers". Granted, some are good. But there is so much artificial hype about them (read exaggerated stories & mostly lies) that people end up thinking they are brilliant. When they are really just average or rubbish at best.

We have the "Inzaghi's" also. The real poacher, blends in with the grass even. Very underrated. You don't realise he's in play until its too late, he's scored. Cue Drogba emphatic celebration.

We have the "Cantona's": they guys who have to score the perfect girl. She has to be the prettiest, most desirable girl there is. They will ignore what they consider average women to bed someone for the "highlight reel". Quality rather than quantity.

There's the "African striker" mould. Think Drogba, Eto'o & you get the drift. Pure force, which overshadows their brilliant technique. Quite the noisy one also, wants EVERYONE to know how good they are. Leading to the occasional scuffle with other "players". There seems to be no answer for them however, just applaud from the sidelines. & try not to get stomped in the ensuing celebration...

Finally, there's "Messi". The Chosen One. He leaves cockblockers (defenders) lying in a mangled heap in his way to chipsing with finesse and style. & to make it worse, they are humble about it. They're so brilliant, they can "score" repeatedly & still manage several "assists" for their teammates. Leaves both women and men wondering "how did he do that? AGAIN?!" World Player of the Year for sure.

How you place yourself (or someone else) in these slots is up to you. Bit that's what a disfunctional 5yr old thinks. Nice, no?

Blame It On The...

Late last week, something very interesting happened. There was a forum for guys on my campus. JUST guys. I had never, EVER heard of something like that happen before. I dunno why, really. Maybe its the assumption that guys don't need to talk about stuff affecting them. Maybe we have it all figured out. Maybe...

The forum was called 'Take Her To Bed?', with emphasis on the "?". To tell the truth, I didn't see that part, much like a lot of the other guys present. Part of me was intrigued by how someone was going to talk about the finer points of "chipsing" to a college audience. But I digress...

The forum was really good. They talked about issues affecting men NOW, so it was real talk. The really cool Mavuno pastor (who's name I keep forgetting) talked about stuff ranging from what constitutes a real man, to why women are attracted to men in relationships (????). There were five points that constituted the 'Real Man', which I will post when I find them (@stiviz, sema hallelujah).

There's a very skewed view of men today. It seems we're the root cause of all problems these days: everything from pregnancy to power blackouts is blamed on us. Not to say there aren't some idiots out there, but the WHOLE male population? Surely not...

'Cool Mavuno Pastor' talked about two main things that have apparently led to the decline in 'real men': one is that there are no positive role models. The ideal man is portrayed as an irresponsible, violent, selfish, promiscuous animal after his own satisfaction. Couple that with the fact that most women seem to be attracted to those fitting the above stereotype, & you have even good guys seeking a change in attitude. Survival of the fittest, as it were.

Two: no one ever really takes time to talk to guys. Remember in primary school when all the girls would be called to a talk somewhere? Guys would be left in class making noise & wondering what was going on. Everyone assumes that these boys know what to do when they become older. THEN they are shocked when these same boys, now young men, make mistakes and can't correct them. Lest you forget, your actions are ultimately a product of your education. Book or life-wise.

So, if men are really as broken as people say we are, there clearly needs to be a change approach. So I applaud forums like "Take Her To Bed?" for trying to help young men in Kenya. If you won't be part of the solution, then shut up and deal with the outcome. That goes for males AND females.

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Flogg Them!!!

Kenya. I am quite fond of it, but I don't love it. Because I don't believe in investing emotion in something that can get you killed, or worse... I tend to think we are surrounded by idiots in this dusty, broken down country. As usual, there's a story behind this...

So I'm in a jav, going home on Thika Rd. I'm crazy tired and can only think of my bed, despite the fact that its 9 in the 'morn. So the jav is moving along well when it swerves suddenly. I bump my head against the window. Really hard. So I look up in anger for who to cuss out, fist clenched and all, when some random Corolla 110 drives by my window. On OUR lane. Going the OPPOSITE direction!

So now I'm going crazy in my head, looking for something to fling at someone. ANYONE! I mean, this is Thika Rd! One of the craziest roads EVER! & some lower life form was driving on WHICH side of the road?! But when I think it couldn't get any worse, another one drives past us. And ANOTHER, this one with the cojones to flash his lights at US!

Now, I'm all for human rights. But these mud-for-brains humans should be flogged to near death! On national television! That would make for better reality TV viewing then some of the nonsense local TV peddles.

& before you write this off as some schuupid rant, remember Kenya is the only country in the world where you have to look both ways before crossing a one-way street. & you are most likely to be run down by a white Corolla. So: Flog an idiot, save a life.

JusLisenDammit!

Now, there's been a very startling trend amongst hombres (maybe the mamacitas too, but that's not my area of expertise). & as the blog name suggests, this is about telling my fellow men what the business is, so to speak.

Men don't listen. To other men, to women, or even to themselves. This is with regards to the important things AND the mundane. They just don't. Maybe its just a Kenyan problem (amongst many of our other faults). This story ilinifika mwisho the other day, so listen closely me hearties.

So I was on the rave with Mafans 10K as usual, having a blast. Then some attractive lasses came into view. Naturally, hombres' interest was peaked. So Guys 1 & 2 move in to assess.

As background assessers, I see it only fit to point out flaws in my friends' strategies if they are darting a mama. Albeit in a subtle way. So Guy 1 was talking too much and Guy 2 was to eager, saying yes to everything. & peoples told them so.

I dunno if its the illusion that your observant pal is jealous, ama excess pride, but guys NEVER want to hear they are making a mistake when it comes to girls. 'tis both very sad and very vexing. Guys 1 & 2 sneered at these comments and continued it their way. Once the lasses in question were adequately entertained and drink'd up, they moved on.

I don't know when it became uncool to listen to counsel. I must have missed that train. It has been said that a wise man listens to the counsel of others, but makes his own decisions in the end. Who knows, maybe next time she'll go home with you...

Can I Get a Witness?

So the other day I was doing laundry (forgive the excess info, Jaluo?) while Mademoiselle Julie (aka In Law) was on the console. So I leave to go upstairs to anika the stoff when my heart stops. My neighbour was carrying her kiddo & I could see it in her eyes: ‘HELP ME!’ It was Jehovah’s Witness. But nah, I’m not Red Cross. I strolled by, exchanged kidogo pleasantries & once back in the house, Mademoiselle Julie & I barricaded ourselves in.

Not that I have anything against Witnesses. Oh contraire, anyone who can walk up to a Kenyan household and argue the finer points of ANYTHING has muchos pantalones in my book. Because we all know Kenyans are crazy, and the chances of someone 'nyanching you (a la Onyancha) is much to say the least.

Another testament to the Witness’ bravery is that they came to where I live. Anyone who knows the area is familiar with the grandness of the debauchery that occurs. & OF COURSE I won’t tell you where it is, lest you give directions during the Apocalypse. But the thing that got me was that I was genuinely scared. As in hide-in-a-hole-and-weep scared. WHY!?

Though I know this shouldn’t be comforting, I know many other people feel the same way. Eddie Griffin once said if they went to his house, he’d meet them at the door naked carrying a raw chicken. Talk about guerrilla tactics. Maybe we’re overwhelmed by how seriously they take their brand of Christianity. Maybe we lock up the doors because of the human trait of hating when people seem to be dictating the truth to us. Lotsa ifs-buts-or-maybes here.

I’d like to think I’m a religious person. Though I’ve been watching some documentaries that cast beaucoup doubts on stuff (Thogi na Dread, thank you?). Ama that fear is my instincts telling me that my various reasons for not going to church are rubbish. I don’t know.  All I know is that it would be a shame on Judgement Day when you get to the front of the line, you see a sign on Heaven’s gate saying “Admittance to Witnesses only”. Or what do you think?

Fight Night (Bonus)

Setting: Boy is walking up to meet girl he is darting at her favourite spot. The rest is up to your imagination…

Ladies & gentlemen, the most anticipated heavyweight clash of the year is here. It’s the veteran versus the newcomer. The old-school versus the new school. & the stats make for a very interesting bout. Joe Average: new to the scene but undefeated. Fearsome competitor & the fastest on his feet in the business. In the blue corner we have Friend’s Corner. This fearsome competitor has claimed many illustrious scalps in a star studded career. Without further a-do, let’s get it on!

First few rounds have been sketchy, with both fighters feeling out each other’s weaknesses. But it’s the beginning of the fourth round, & Joe Average comes out aggressively. He lands his trademark combinations to the body & the head of the veteran. A dazzling array of footwork ensues, & Joe Average is in the ascendancy. The power and precision seem to be too much for Friend’s Corner, who is seemingly saved by the bell signaling the end of the round.

Deep into round seven & it’s been all Joe Average. The youngster has seemed almost cocky at times, but who can blame him? Friend’s Corner has offered no resistance, & the effects are beginning to show. But the veteran has made a name from unlikely comebacks… Like what we are seeing now. Joe Average moves in for the uppercut… The veteran evades! Devastating blows to the body! The youngster is reeling! The crowd goes wild! Friend’s Corner moves in, trying to penetrate his opponent’s defense… & lands the uppercut! Joe Average is down! Pandemonium! The youngster gets up at the count of seven. Clearly made of stern stuff, he is.

The tenth and final round, & what a fight it has been. Since getting knocked down, Joe Average has been aggressive in his approach. But Friend’s Corner has held his ground, seemingly going for a Judges’ Decision rather than the K.O. Friend’s Corner bobs & weaves, tiring out the youngster. The crowd cheers as the veteran seems to be taunting Joe Average. Joe with an aggressive assault… Connects with the uppercut! Friend’s Corner is on the ropes! He pushes Joe out but the youngster returns with a flurry of blows. Friend’s Corner weaves out and to the centre. Joe follows eager to kill off the match. The veteran evades a combination & lands blows to the body. Joe is STILL coming at him! Friend’s Corner with the right hook… It’s a fake! Joe falls for it, & receives a devastating left shot to the jaw. Lights out for Joe Average! The referee counts… It’s all over! Victory for Friend’s Corner!

Risky Business

Upon extensive research (and consultation with various qubaffs), I have come to accept that there are only two types of risks. ‘Only two?’ you may say. Beeeecaaaause the world is much simpler when it’s in black and white: no grey areas. I encourage you to try it for the New Year.

Anyway, to these said ‘risks’. First, we have calculated risks. For example: boy meets pretty girl on the rave. Boy has conversation with girl, sees that things are going well. Boy has huddle with other boys, & upon hearing positive feedback (meaning she has no outstanding moshene) he takes her to the Woodwork-a Waaaaakashop.

So that’s not the best example, but you get the drift. It’s taking a gamble based on research. This technically limits the risk involved, so it’s more of an assurance. & while most of us think, “Hey! I do that!” let’s pause for a second.

No. 2: Haphazard risks. This is where boy is in a club. Boy came wearing his freshest shoes to improve chances of scoring a la Leo Messi. In the melee of passing through the crowd, random qubaff scuffs said boy’s shoes. Boy gets angered. Boy starts a fight. Not taking into consideration that the random qubaff will hit him across the jaw with a beer bottle (Mututho Law, anyone?). This will lead to hospitalization due to fractured jaw. So, 6k for new shoes or 100k for hospital bills?

Safe to say all of us have made a mistake this daft at least 10 times. Sadder though is that Kenyans around us seem to do this ALL THE TIME! This leads to the assumption that goes “I’m surrounded by idiots.” (Scar, Lion King 01). Rather than be the rule, try to be the exception this year. Who knows, it may even keep you out of the hospital?

Tisk Tisk

So this week I undoubtedly have done the daftest thing EVER so far in my life. I lost my passport. In another country. *DOH!* Yes, yes. Stupid doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. To make it even worse, the US (from henceforth +1) has raised its terror alert to Orange *dramatic music*. Even England is having a hissy fit over some terror alert! So a random Kenyan with no passport… Not a good look.

Rather than have a cow, the people around me decided to be cool about it. So it was road trip time in the +1. As the nearest +254 Embassy is 9 hours away (9! Whot!), the drive was on. Driving for 9 hours will obviously lead to incredibly bored observations. Every state in the +1 has a clever tag on its number plate. For example, North Carolina’s reads ‘First in Flight’. Beeecaaaauseee the Wright Brothers tested their plane there. Washington DC’s reads ‘Taxation without Representation’. Whatever THAT was about, I dunno…

But it got me thinking. Since +254 is instituting counties, it would be kinda cool for each to have its own number plate. Complete with snazzy catch phrase. I can see it now…

*Kogelo - We run the World!

*Kasarani – The 24 Hour Economy

*Kitui – Noo Va!

I realize now that the hardest place to be a Kenyan is in Kenya. The guys in DC were super cool & didn’t even charge me for my temporary documents! & we chapad stories about the Hague-ees (patent pending) & why they had bottiz of Kibao in the display case for Kenyan products! Aki Kenyans…

I finally have to concede that the +1 is pretty awesome. There are little to no Vitz’ (my resident Redneck Billy Rae said, “My V8 has misfires bigger than that car”). The people are well behaved (for the most part). The infrastructure is MAAAAD! & you can get anything you want if you work hard enough. True story. & you’ll be paying bills for the rest of your natural life, but heeeey…

So I guess it’s to the +254 very soon. It has been missed, but its sub was pretty cool. & if anyone sees a passport with a random Kenyan qubaff’s picture on it, holla!