The Fraternity of Delta Psi, Botswana Chapter

The longer I stay here, the more I feel like I'm at home. The last couple of days have had so many moments when I've been reminded of that strange beast, the co-ed literary fraternity. Seriously. I slept on a couch last night.

Yesterday, I once again succeeded in buying friends with some home-cooked food. (Granted, it wasn't actually my home, it was the home of the South African croc researcher of yore that was being house-sat by some of my friends. These are some of my friends:)



















That's Megan, the cowgirl, and Ahnnie, the half-Asian half of the Hahnnie duo. (Hi Hahnnie and company!)

Interspersed between furious bouts of frying and sauteeing and chopping was some lighthearted soccer, erm, football playing.














Then some people were fettuccine fighting.














With the bribery of food, my friends sat through yet another Hanukkah candle lighting, this time with an improvised aluminum foil Hanukkiah.














See how easily bought they are?














Dinner quickly degenerated into spontaneous dance party. In the rain.














Then it got too cold, so we moved the party inside.














We watched Elf, and didn't make it home.














I slept on a couch. It was almost like being back at my Benevolent and Hopeful 1890s mansion on the East campus of Brown University in Providence, RI, USA.

I now welcome you to the first annual virtual fireside poetry reading.

The previous story was just the co-ed frat part. The lit part came in the previous night, when I convinced everyone to join me in a game of Combi Haiku. The following ensued, credited to Pun, Will, Dave, and me:

Sweaty, smelly men
Push me into the corner
I love combi rides

Fast and efficient
Carries twenty-two people
Oh fuck, no seatbelts

Driving really fast
Passing cars at random will
Oh shit, I am dead

Combi man asks me,
May I join you tonight at
Sedia Hotel?

I get in the van
Something is wrong up front
White combi driver

Beer in the front seat
Stopping to take a long piss
I think he is drunk

2-liter bottle
In the front seat of the cab
Full of God-knows-what

Train to Francistown
What an awesome experience
Who pissed on that bag?

Going into town
Enjoying the combi ride
Splat! goes the donkey

I'd now like to share a favorite poem of mine, by William Wordsworth (thanks, Wikipedia).

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
in such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
what wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

I was thinking about this poem the other day, and decided that one to the same effect should exist about my experience in Africa. By popular demand, I will conclude this virtual fireside with an untitled poem inspired by Wordsworth. I'm a big fan of his iambic tetrameter, but his rhyme scheme pisses me off a tad bit, so I borrowed the rhyme scheme from Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky. That poem I won't post here. If you really want to hear it, it's so much funnier recited verbally.

My poem required two rigorous days of poolside poetry writing. Ah, the life of an artist.


Once I did land atop the world
Like butterflies will come to rest
Below, so many lives unfurled
Far from me within my nest

In front of me the sky was bright
The sunset: violet, orange, gold
The air was sweet, and then by night
The stars played host to stories told

Here, great fig trees owned the land
Guarding all that walked between
Their fruit o'erflowed from every hand
Shade from a canopy of green

Snow-capped mountains grew towards clouds
To share the secrets of the birds
That filled the air in melodious crowds
To serenade them without words

A crash of thunder from behind
Was cause for me to turn around
And such a scene there did I find
I nearly tumbled to the ground

The sky was threatening, dark and gray
And thunder shook the earth below
Like the difference 'tween night and day
The beauty left, to this frightful show

All was barren, dry as bone
For as far as I could see
Vultures circled 'round alone
Their requiem sung solemnly

Funnels of dust and death and sand
The endless cries of creatures there
Did pierce my heart, and from this land
I breathed the sorrow that filled the air

So soon I had to look away
And crouched within my nest to hide
I sought the light of yesterday
The haven on the other side

And then at once, to my delight,
The fig trees' glory met my gaze
My heart was freed from pain and night
Though behind, the darkness there always

I know I do and always will
Have the choice, and that I know
Makes the birds sing sweeter still
And the sun more brightly glow.