Living in Swaziland has taught me many things, and reaffirmed others. One of the things that has been reaffirmed is the heavy influence of American culture on Swaziland. In particular, American hip hop culture influences many across the kingdom.
Some of my students want to know my personal familiarity and acquaintance with John Cena, Beyonce, and Rick Ross among others. I’ve helped friends in my community to get updated music from their favorite artists.
Just outside of the Swazi metropolis known as Manzini, there is a town called Matsapha. While Matsapha is home to an array of businesses and restaurants, one business meshes American hip hop culture and Swazi cuisine. The eatery’s name is 50’s Kitchen. The restaurateur is definitely 50 Cents’ doppelganger. But he doesn’t rest on his resemblance to his famed American twin to garner business. The food is delicious and affordable.
If you ever find yourself in Matsapha, or even Manzini, definitely stop by and enjoy the culinary delights.
Be kind to yourself.
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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).
I was with a large group of people. They may have have been classmates. They may have been teammates. They may have been my Peace Corps Swaziland cohort. We were in a restaurant waiting to go somewhere or do something. There were maybe 50 of us. The restaurant was a cross between a McDonald’s and a Starbucks.
Anyway, I get up to go to the counter to order something. In my periphery, I notice a man sitting down. To my left. In the distance. Holy shit! It’s Dak Prescott. I get out of line to nervously and eagerly approach. I try to put a sentence together, but manage to say something unintelligible. He’s cool. He shakes my hand. No big deal. He smiles and gets back to whatever he was doing. I don’t even go back to the counter. I go back to my group to excitedly tell them that Dak is there. They don’t seem to care as much as I do. I tell them that they don’t understand, and that this is like meeting the president of the United States. They blow me off.
Fast forward. We’re in the same place. But they now offer banking services. Dak is getting a new bank account. On his way out, he jokingly offers me his signature. On the back of his card. I’m still so giddy and excited.
Be kind to yourself.
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