Because I am posted in a country where I might contract malaria, I have been given an antimalarial medication called, “Mefloquine”. One of the side effects of this medication is lucid dreaming. The following is what I dreamt last night (as best I can remember).
We were all in a house. I was playing in a band. John Legend’s band. We were playing new material and it was really good. Crowds of people would gather at the house to watch us practice and vibe with us. I was so happy to be playing with John. We finally had a real show somewhere. We went and killed it. Women were throwing themselves at us.
Fast forward some weeks later, we’re in the same house and it now has a recording studio. We’re going over some of our latest songs. We’re about to release an album. It’s going to be amazing. We’re so excited. We’re still relatively obscure. One of our guys ends up on the phone with one of Jay Z’s people trying to talk him out of releasing a double album before we release our album. It’s a double album with Wu Tang Clan, but it’s more than 2 CDs. It looks like an entire season of a tv show. Jay Z says that he’s releasing it anyway. I start talking to Jay Z and tell him that the new songs aren’t new and that we’ve heard it all before. I try telling him that he shouldn’t release the album because it’s not fresh. It falls on deaf ears.
We leave the house to go do another show. Possibly an album release party. We agree not to sleep with any drunk women. As we’re walking to the car, we get lost at a campus that looks like Hogwarts. I try stopping a guy to ask for directions, but he points to his shirt. The shirt says, “Another dumb ass school that looks like Hogwarts”.
Be kind to yourself.
It was the summer of 2006. This was the summer before my senior year of college, and I was spending it with my uncle and his family in Fayette County, Georgia. All of the single family homes seemed to have perfectly manicured lawns. There wasn’t a blade of grass out of place. On one Saturday morning, my cousin, uncle, and I got up early. It was time to cut the grass at our house.
This was a new experience for me. I had never cut grass, or done any yard work. My cousin and uncle taught me how to start and use the gas powered lawnmower. It was hard work. I wasn’t able to achieve that perfectly manicured look that I saw at the neighbors’ homes, but I got the job done.
Almost eleven years later, I am responsible for maintaining the grassy area around my home on the homestead. My host mom reminds me of this when my grass grows too high. She warns me that high grass gives snakes places to hide.
Lawnmowers are a rarity in Swaziland. They are practically non-existent in the rural community. There are two options for cutting grass. There’s an older pair of garden shears, and there’s something called a siheshe (pronounced see-heh-shay), or slasher. It’s smaller than a bush knife and has a modest handle with a thin, long metal blade. When my host brother was home for the Christmas holidays, I saw him using the siheshe to cut grass. I asked him how one cut grass with it. He responded simply, “just beat the hell out of it”. I remembered that on one weekday afternoon as I attempted to cut my grass, Swazi style. Eventually, I found a rhythm. I also found a new appreciation for lawnmowers. The slasher gets the job done and gives you a workout. Luckily, I only have to cut the grass twice a month.
Be kind to yourself.
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