Crazy!!!

My life is just crazy!

I knew I was busy - but not that BUSY!!! Work, Church, college, socialising! Okay really I should stop moaning. There was a time when I did nothing, and was so bored! A friend has latched on to me because apparently I have a 'social' life and she needs to remedy the lack in hers. My advise to her, build in a lot of 'me' time into your calendar. 

I've not had a minute to myself. And looking at my calendar... there is no free evening or weekend in the next 4 weeks! 

Okay got to dash to work now.

One hell of a commute!

Started the new job in Westminster on Monday!

Coming from a provincial office, and flung into the heart of Government, to say I am overwhelmed would be a bit of an understatement.

There are security guards everywhere; a special lift for the Secretary of State and Ministers; a subsidised canteen that sells fair trade food and serves healthy meals; a state of the art sports centre with well equipped gym, games hall, scheduled classes e.g. aerobics, kick boxing, tai chi, jazz dancing. 

Some things are still the same as in my old job - flexible working patterns which centre around core hours 10 - 12am and 2 - 4pm. Meaning I can get into work anytime before 10.00am.

Everyone is SMART! 

In my old job, the dress code was casual smart, and I only had 2 formal tops for the odd meeting with clients. This week I've been wearing the same pair of trousers - hoping no one has noticed...  Yesterday I wore a T-shirty type top, but tried to smarten it up with a tailored waist coat. On my way home, I met a friend who on seeing me remarked "Oh so it's casual smart in your new job too" ??? Clearly it didn't work!!! My wardrobe is in need of a major overhaul.Tomorrow, I am wearing 'Monday's' top - now how to make it to look different...

The commute is what's killing me at the moment. TWO hours plus - EACH WAY!!

At the moment I can only afford £13.80 for a weekly bus pass. A travel card which would have let me use the train costs £44. Until I get paid at the end of February, things are looking decidedly grim. Saying that, the journey on the first day was quite pleasant.  I left home arrived early, so popped into St Martin-in-the-Fields church on Trafalgar Square for a quick prayer, and then took a leisurely stroll to the office via the Horse Guards Parade where there was a Guards brass band playing music - all in their furry hats. It was too early for the 'Changing of the Guard'  which takes place daily at 11.00am, and nothing on the Internet seems to shed any light on it, so I will assume it was in my honour! tee hee

The next day was a reverse. I left home at about the same time as the day before. About a fifth way into the journey, the bus slowed to a crawl. There was a massive traffic jam in front of us. The bus driver announced that the jam was not going to ease up and advised us to find an alternative route - i.e. use the train! Unplanned spending! £3.70! Got to the train, and the words, 'packed in like sardines', 'pack animals' will give you a mental image of what it was like! It was awful! I got into work after 9.30, completely flustered! Had to keep chanting to myself "Today is going to be a GOOD day!"

So I need to leave home a bit earlier - probably around 6.30am. I've been waking up at 6.00am, but it takes me an hour to get ready. So will have to change that to 5.30am if I stand a chance of getting into work by 9.00am! 

The good thing about the commute though is that I have enough time to read! So will enrich my mind in the process!

Spirit willing... Flesh weak!

I've spent hours searching through the Internet for Street Dance classes.  These dance schools are NOT serious. One school was charging almost £20 per lesson!!! Now, I've been to a street dance class before, and the most you learn within that 1 and half hours is like 8, maybe 10 steps in a dance routine! That's it! Justify £20 for that! 

I've found one that is cheaper, charges £6 per lesson, which is on a pay-as-you-go basis. So if I can't make a class, I won't lose out on the money. There is the option of working towards a performance (which I really liked). And they are based in North London - nearer to my home. I've taken Salsa classes with them before which I enjoyed, so will be interesting to see how they do the Street dance classes. I start in February.

However, my knees, legs have started playing up again. In a bid to get fitter for the classes, I've been doing some power-walking, and my legs afterwards have been in agony. If walking can do that.... then I don't know how I will cope with strenuous dance routines. The pain is not continuous but comes in sharp jolts, that completely immobilise me for about 30 seconds. The more I exert myself, the more regular the occurence. So there's a connection. I've been to the GP, osteopath and even asked people at church to pray for me, but because I've been unable to pinpoint the pain at the time (sod's law) it's been a waste of time. 

A part of me is saying "Life's too short, just go dance until you can't anymore"

Another part is saying 'You might make things worse, then you won't be able to even walk anymore" 

I remember a woman once told me that she couldn't ride horses anymore because her bones had become too brittle with age and couldn't take it. I felt really sorry for her, because clearly she loved riding. But heck, I'm 33 - so in the prime of my life. If I am to suffer a (little??) pain in my legs as a result of pursuing something I love, then I'll do just that!

Dance

As I was watching Step Up 2 tonight, especially those spectacular choreographed sequences at the end, I indulged myself in a little nostalgia

I've always danced! When we were kids my dad used to play records from his Zaire/Lingala music collection and get us to compete. We'd dance our little hearts out to win the 100 shs prize (worth 80p now, but those days it was worth much more) 

The first dance video I saw was 'Thriller'. I paused, rewound and played it in slow motion until I'd memorized ALL the moves. Other influences were Five Star, Janet Jackson, Paula Abdul, Bobby Brown, MC Hammer, Vanilla Ice (I'm betraying my age... but...yes I'm an 80's child!!) I LOVED all the dance films like Breakdance 1 & 2, Dirty Dancing, Footloose

Secondary boarding school provided the platform for lots of Ugandan kids to showcase our dancing skills. I took part in all talent shows within and outside school. That whole Step Up stuff, the music, dance crews, that was us!!!  So when I got 'saved' as a teenager, it was really tough because as a 'Saved-ee', I was expected to abstain from listening to secular music and going to discos. However, Christian music didn't (and still doesn't really) do it for me. I must confess I sneaked away from time to time - aided and abetted by best friend Eddie who

a) wasn't a Saved-ee 

b) thought I was the only person who could party as hard as he could (I was better but....)

Fast forward to Uni...

Joined a band ' Prim and Propa' as backing singer and dancer, befriended all top club DJ's in Kampala and PARTIED hard  as you do at University (almost flunked out my first year exams!!!)

In my second year, I joined my church choir, and in a desire to pursue a 'Holy' lifestyle resigned from Prim and Propa and gave up partying.  Around this time, my friend Milly created and invited me to join 'The Gospel Dancers'  - the name speaks for itself really. We danced at church, and at weddings. Although the music and choreography were heavily censored- this kept me sane until I left Uganda

Being in London, (far away from Kampala where everyone knows your business) somewhat freed me to start listening to chart music again. I was still restricted because I only had Christian friends who, apart from dancing in church, were not really into the clubbing scene. Clubs were generally frowned upon as they were evil places, 'meat' markets, full of drugs, sex 

I got my 'dance fix' instead through aerobics, street dance and salsa classes at the local dance studio. But I still missed the bright lights, atmosphere, pulsating bass line....

Then when we got to 30 years, Eddie died. 

This has been the most traumatic event and a real turning point for me. It took the loss of a close friend to realise that life is just too short to live by society's expectations. I started doing what I LOVED, like expanding my social circles beyond the Church; backpacking for 3 months, watching Musicals and dancing! 

Being a sort of exhibitionist, I naturally want to get back into performance mode. I'm not as fit as I used to be, but if Madonna and Cher can do it, there's nothing to stop me from getting back on form. I've found a way I can do this in church - but this post is getting too long to include that here... plus it's past midnight and I'm sleepy now...so it will have to wait until the next one.

2009

My friend Tiago has 15 New Year resolutions. 

As I listened to him reel them off over hot chocolate I hoped desperately that he wouldn't ask me the dreaded question, but he did, 

"What about you?" 

"I haven't made any... I kind of make it up as I go along" 

His face registered disappointment... for some reason the kid looks up to me. Good... now he realises that this 'paragon' has feet of clay!

Sounds lame, but really... I don't have any official ANNUAL resolutions. I've made small plans that are not as life altering as his

1) Get costumes for January and February fancy dress parties. February is sorted - sexy swinging sixties mini dress. Now all I need is get one for the Japanese themed Harajuku party on 30 Jan.

2) Pass my Internal Auditor exams which are part of my new job - Yati has warned that I will have to sacrifice my social life (Gasp... cannot begin to even comprehend this...)

3) NOT go on a diet!

4) Attend any free dance classes available- starting with the Samba ones at Guanabara

5) Snog Michael...

I suppose, being a Christian and what not, I really should include a 'Christian' Resolution in the mix. Our first sermon of the year was about the cost of being a Christian and what it means to share in the death of Jesus. 

I don't want to be a martyr.WHAT I REALLY WANT is to challenge and dispel stereotypes that non-Christians (and lets be honest... some Christians) have of the Christian God. For a long time I've been thinking that if people truly UNDERSTOOD the nature of God, which is LOVE, they would not reject Him. Instead, what they  DO reject is the image that we as a Church have presented to them. Which on the whole is not good!

At the moment there are posters on London Buses that say, 'There is probably no God, So now you can get on and enjoy your life' - which proves my point really about how the world perceives God - as a big gigantic kill joy and taskmaster. 

Jesus said that He came to give us abundant life - would anyone in their right mind reject THAT??

Believe it or not, there are some of us Christians whose description of abundant life is not sour faced, petty, guilt driven, fearful life that seems to be the prevailing message coming from the pulpit.

The only way I can communicate the abundant Christian life is to LIVE it. To WALK THE WALK, because the people I meet are tired of TALK! 

Of course, there is hardship and suffering. But I hope that I do not respond to it in a fake 'Christian' I can handle this, because God is in control way, and instead learn how to give full rein to the appropriate human emotions for that moment, acknowledging that the only thing that keeps me from total despair is my faith in a God loves me, has my best interests at heart and will pull me out of this hole.

So that's my Christian resolution - which I can't strictly call a New Year Resolution, because it wasn't just made on the 1st of January. It's been there all along, since my rebirth.

Christmas

My custom is to invite single friends to my home for Christmas lunch. This year I thought I’d take a back seat. Ann Marie mentioned that she was organising Christmas lunch for people in church who were on their own. Originally she expected about 20 people, but in the end about 85 signed up – clearly there was a need for it! A collection was taken up in church to raise funds for the dinner and a chef volunteered his services. Ann Marie also organised a Secret Santa, where church members picked up tags, with a brief description of each guest, from the back of the church and bought for them a present worth up to £5.

The meal was of a high standard! I was placed on a table with a family from Borneo, and it was lovely getting to know them. We had a table of homeless guys next to us that Ann Marie had made friends with on Barnet streets, and I got talking to them too. They had to leave early though because they were desperate for a drink. John Coles, one of the vicars dressed up as Father Christmas, and dished out the Secret Santa presents. I got a Van Gough writing set. And then while his 3 children provided musical entertainment, a guest magician, Chris, moved around the tables performing the most amazing party tricks. It was a really good day.

On Boxing Day and on the 29th, I volunteered at one of the Crisis Christmas Homeless Shelters. We had a fairly decent building this time – didn’t smell of damp and was adequately heated. There were more advisors and Samaritans this year than in previous years. They put the homeless in touch with social services and agencies who help them out of homelessness in the year. We had skilled volunteers like doctors, dentists, opticians, entertainers, hairdressers, masseurs, manicurists etc. I always go as a general volunteer where you do odd jobs and mingle with the guests, but wish I had a practical skill to help out with next year. Maybe that could be my New Years Resolution?
Unfortunately, the shelter was full, and we had to turn away some people at the door. Consequently none of us general volunteers relished front gate duty. It was not pleasant as the people we turned away were understandably angry and called us names- but there was nothing else we could do – Fire Safety officers would have shut us down and then every one would have been out on the streets.
There were a few familiar faces from previous years – guests and volunteers. I am always struck by the fact that how normal these guys are and that ANYONE can be homeless. It is just by the grace of God that I am not. A group of Eritreans’, who didn’t speak much English, were pretty much on their own due to language barrier. I sat at a table with one of them, Berhane, and while trying to communicate, it came up that Eritrea had once been an Italian colony, and he spoke a bit of Italian. WELL…my Italian lessons FINALLY came in handy and even though we spoke in simple sentences and in pidgin Italian, we had a decent conversation. One of the other volunteers overheard us talking and joined in- speaking rapid Italian. Berhane frowned and said he understood me, and not the Italian!
The 29th was emotionally difficult because it was the last day the shelter was open. The weather for New Years Eve is predicted to be -5º, and to think that people whose names and faces I know will be out in that, my heart aches! I wish we could do more. The shift leaders assured us that they try to do as much as they can to help these guys. I just wish we could do more!
So that was my Christmas!

Christian behaviour

Once you tell people that you are a ‘practicing’ Christian, your life turns into a fish bowl. Every one expects you to behave like Mother Theresa, and to be honest most times it feels like they are all out to jump on to your every shortcoming with comments like “And you call yourself a Christian” “That wasn’t very Christian of you, was it?”
You've got the fundamentalists who just give Christianity a bad name, with their lack of love - I am thinking here of Westboro Baptist Church that picketed the funeral of a gay marine with anti-gay slogans in 2007. Like the family members didn't have enough grief to deal with!!
The guy, who tiled my bathroom floor a couple of years ago, is a Christian who showed very little integrity. He probably had 2 jobs going at the same time and was not honest about it…. And he did a shoddy job. When I pointed out some of the areas that needed re-doing, he said I was nit picking!!! For 500 pounds I will nit pick thank you very much!!! I was so upset to the point of incoherence that my flat mate who is used to dealing with difficult people stepped in to help. And then to cap it off, after ALL THAT, he attempted to evangelise to her. So embarrassing!

Yes I know I should take out the plank from my eye before I point out the splinter in my brother’s eye! I certainly can point to very un-Christian behaviour in my life - a lack of integrity at work, lying, gossiping, lack of chastity… the list is endless. And that’s just the outward behaviour… You wouldn’t want to know what goes on inside!

Sometimes it feels like the people in my world who are not Christians, are better Christians than I am.
Last weekend, as I was walking with a non Christian friend in West End, I ignored a woman who was begging on the side of the street. My companion stopped and fished for his last change (I know this because he literally emptied his wallet and pockets). A few seconds afterwards, he pointed out someone else who needed help. Embarrassed about my in-action with the ‘beggar’, I agreed to help. This woman was crying and engaged in the futile exercise of hailing a cab in a very busy section of Soho. They were all full. We tried our best to hail a cab for her and when that failed suggested that she moved further down where she was likely to catch one that was free. I even called 118 118 to see if there were any local cab firms about. Suddenly she started shouting at us like as if it was our fault she was not catching a cab. My friend looked at me imploringly
“ Kim, you’d better take over here cos I am at my wit’s end here” I tried to calm her down, make her see reason, but it just wasn’t working – she was distressed. Eventually she ignored our advice and went charging up the street, leaving us behind – so a failed attempt to help. Oh well!
But you know, I was really challenged by his compassion and willingness to get involved. Last month he organised an event and raised over 1000 pounds for Stop the Traffik- a global movement working to combat people trafficking.
I’ve become so blind to the needs around me, so caught up in a hedonistic, self-absorbed lifestyle. I am ok for displaying Christian qualities in church-organised events. Or helping out in the Crisis Homeless shelters at Christmas –and ignoring the homeless for the rest of the year. Maybe this is a wake up call for me to get off my arse and get involved. Being of an obsessive nature, there’s always the danger of getting over-involved to the point of ineffectiveness – it’s happened before. But maybe this time I will learn to establish some boundaries. I’ll start small… and aim to help one person a week? Is that too ambitious?
And perhaps I should keep surrounding myself with friends who display Christ's character, piggy back on to their efforts and learn from them.

Platonic = Fun

The soldier and I have exchanged text messages almost everyday. I have to remind myself that he only views me, in the words of Dawn Eden, as... 'a piece of meat - a rare an attractive piece of meat, deserving of the highest respect, but meat nonetheless.' *

Yesterday I told him that I have taken a vow of chastity and prefer to have great platonic relationships with men which are much more fun.
'Your shitting me, you must get really frustrated'
'I don’t! Can’t explain it but I really am quite content'
'That’s ok; I suppose it’s less complicated'

I haven’t heard from him since …

Speaking of great platonic relationships last Saturday a good friend Fredrik phoned me up and asked if I wanted to go with him for the Landscape Photographer of the Year free exhibition at the National Theatre (held from 17 November to 17 January). Freddy is into his photography and whilst the photos in themselves were stunning, he was a fount of knowledge regarding the different techniques used. Afterwards we strolled through the German market stalls along the South bank, bought fudge and drank mulled wine.
And then to the O2 Arena (formerly Millennium Dome) in North Greenwich. There was a merry go round that Freddy asked me to get on to whilst he took photos with his ever present camera. Got this lovely shot!

We then went into the Body Worlds & Mirrors of Time Exhibition in the 02 bubble (£14) by German Professor Gunther von Hagens or Doctor Death - an anatomical exhibition of real human bodies that have been preserved by a process called plastination. Apparently these people donated their bodies to be displayed. There were about 200 bodies!! This is one of a dancer. Once again, I find this western culture weird because in Uganda it is taboo not to bury your dead. Heck when I told my mom I wanted my organs to be donated and body cremated when I died, she almost had an apoplectic fit. (Fred is of the opinion that these were really German prisoners with no human rights who were killed for the exhibition). The exhibition wasn’t as creepy as I thought it would be because the bodies looked …well… plastic. The most impressive displays for me were the giraffe which towered about 30 feet above us and the fascinating foetuses at different stages of growth from week 2 to week 8. You can distinguish the features at week 8, and yet in this country it is legal to abort them! The theme of the exhibition was aging, death. At the end of it you are handed a Life Certificate

in recognition of resolve and committment to embrace a healthy lifestyle,

accept physical and intellectul challenges,

strive for fellowship, and live a purposeful life in longevity.

And then there is space for you to write down your personal committments to long and healthy life.
Fred cautioned me not to sign it, because that would give Doctor Death a reason to abduct, kill and use your body for his exhibition!

Hmm I think someone has been watching too many Sci Fi movies
It was a really chilled out day, and I wish I had more like that with guys!
They ARE a lot more fun!

* Chapter 1 (page 6) of 'The Thrill of the Chaste - finding fulfillment while keeping your clothes on' by Dawn Eden

This month's flava..

My personality is such that I prefer to deal in ABSOLUTES. If I can’t have exactly what I want, I’d rather do without. For example, I want a new Apple Mac, but can’t afford one at the moment, so won’t compromise and by the cheaper PC’s which I can.

And so with men!

Last Friday, I organised a karaoke night, in one of those clubs where there is also a dance floor. In the middle of my rendition of ‘Cheeky girls’, I felt arms around my waist and then move up and down my hips. I turned around and discovered that Little Sam is not that shy on the dance floor. He then tried to kiss me…’Hang on! He’s not old enough to do this’…. I pushed him away and wagged a finger at him “You are a dangerous boy! Dangerous!”
Ok he is 28 (but looks about 20) – so not so young, relatively good looking... short. He comes up to me most Sundays, mumbles hello then stands there leaving me to carry the conversation. It really is hard work as he isn’t terribly communicative. I try to ask open questions, in an effort to get at his “Hot Buttons” (you know? A subject that is important to him or he feels strongly about) but in the months that I’ve known him, the only thing I’ve got is his ACCA course and exams. (Yawn) Conversation is mainly one way as he never asks me questions, it's stilted and normally ends in awkward silence, with me looking busy with tech stuff, till he gets the hint and leaves!

After karaoke, while we were waiting for our respective night buses he tried to bring up what had happened. I decided not to help him out.
Sam “Did you have a nice time tonight”
Kim “Yeah, it was cool, A lot of fun”
He stood there biting his lip; I could see from the expression on his face that he was desperately trying to think up what to say next. Fortunately (for me) his bus arrived!
“There’s your bus! Hope you get home ok”
As he hugged me goodbye he whispered in my ear just before he boarded “Bye Kim, I love you!”
Kim “That’s nice, bye!”

For some reason I think he’s been planning to say this for months! I got home and found a message from him on Facebook “I love you my sweet! Hope you got home fine”
Then on Sunday after the service he came up to me at the AV desk and tried again. “Did you enjoy the other night!”
“Yeah! It was great””
He shuffled from one foot to the other while I busied myself on the computer looking through my pictures on Facebook. He couldn’t see what was on the screen and assumed I was doing tech team stuff. Finally he said
“Kim and her computer. Always busy”
I made an apologetic face” Yes! Really hectic time of the year. We’re kind of stretched at the moment”
Now at this point, my kind of man would have offered to join the team to help ease the burden. We HAVE sent out countless appeals for volunteers…Sam is just not my type.
I was going to set him straight after he had completed his tough Accountancy exam today. I got a text
"Exam's over! Now it's u all the way...darling" GROAN
I immediately picked up the phone and called him. Told him that I was not looking for a relationship that right now I think is my time to remain single and I'd prefer to just be friends with him. He seemed to take it with good grace, saying that if that was what I wanted then he would respect that. Phew!! Let's just hope it won't be awkward at church

It’s so strange that now when I am in a place where like Lieutenant Dan in Forest Gump, I have made my peace with God and I am happily single- NOW is when all the guys show up

Temptation in Bognor - a reminder of my humanity

I often hesitate to write Christian articles, because I’m not really an authority on Christian matters. I strongly believe that the mettle of your faith is tested outside the comfort zone of the ‘Four Walls’ of Church. Like mine was!

At Butlins, I’d been practising speaking Italian all weekend with the Sicilian couple in our Fancy dress group. Earlier in the day I’d remarked jokingly (??)
“Your boyfriend is cute, does he have a brother”
“Yes an older brother, Marko who lives in Rome. He’s single. We’ll hook you up with him!”
It was all going swimmingly well. So in the evening, I thought nothing of it when the boyfriend asked me to keep him company while he had a cigarette outside. Once we got there he grabbed me, pulled me tight against him, and his tongue was down my throat! The cheek of it…. and his girlfriend just upstairs? When I got over the shock (must admit it took a while because he was sooo cute) I gently disengaged and reminded him that he had a girlfriend, whom I happened to like a lot and I didn’t think we should be doing this. And what about hooking me up with your brother Marko?
“Pretend I am Marko for tonight”
“No…. think of your girlfriend. I’m not doing this to her. I like her”
He accepted this with a meek “Ok!” (he was trying it on really) and we went back in. The girlfriend didn’t seem to notice that we were avoiding each other. I felt really bad. I saw one of the guys in the group talking to her and I thought, Oh no, he must have seen us, he’s telling her that he saw us kissing, I’m going to get bitch slapped here. You know what women are like! They always blame the woman even though I didn’t initiate anything and took the moral high ground so to speak.

Remember the suited, bra & thong guys? My Australian roomy had made friends with them, and I chatted with one of them that afternoon. He’s in the army – which explained the nice body. Yes I'm sucker for muscles. I thought he was just being friendly but later on I realised this had been a ‘fishing expedition’ to establish that ‘the coast was clear’ before he could make his move. And make his move he did! Not in the unrefined grabbing way of the Italian. He took his time - clearly skilled in the art of seduction! In the disco, he hovered on the fringes of our group and then somehow manoeuvred me to himself, next thing we are slow dancing, he is making me laugh, then we are kissing. He was a good kisser; just the right height and I could feel his biceps through his shirt. And me, who until then had sworn that I was asexual, never feeling anything when I made out with guys, was REALLY struggling inside. When the tone started turning towards ‘Lets find a room’, I hastily excused myself and went to the Ladies; sent a text message to my mate SJ- never mind it’s the middle of the night, she’s in Nigeria and this is going to cost her!

“SJ, at moment I am very tempted to have sex with this guy. I am seriously turned on; he’s got a great body. Please pray for me LIKE NOW!”
A text straight back from her “I’m on it girl! Avoid bein alone & do WOTEVA IS NECESSARY 2 keep urself out o dangers way!”

Bless her heart!!!

Reinforced with SJ’s advice and prayers, I told him I was going to bed ON MY OWN and suggested that he take a cold shower and do the same. He walked me to my room, tried one last time to change my mind, but I held firm (…only just)

Okay so now it’s official. Italians like me, and I am not asexual. I’m not super human either, and not a very good Christian. If I was, I wouldn’t have got myself into that position in the first place. But I’ve also proven to myself that prayer works because the only way I didn’t go 'all the way' with this guy was through some serious DIVINE INTERVENTION. I read in 2 Corinthians 4: 7 (NLT) this morning,

We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves

So true, So true

Skool Reunion at Butlins, Bognor Regis

Last Friday, 20 of us from the London Fancy Dress Group went to Butlin’s ‘Skool Reunion’ weekend. We descended on the coastal resort in Bognor Regis with about 4500 other revellers.
Butlins Holiday resort is England at its tackiest. It's littered with arcade machines, fast food restaurants, cheap looking bars, fun fairs, a water park with slides, cheesy holiday reps, the common sight of binge drinkers. Definitely not classy. In terms of accommodation, I went prepared for the worst (think cheap youth hostel with communal showers) so was pleasantly surprised that our twin bed chalets were clean, had ensuite bathroom and amenities like iron, kettle, TV. We paid for half board – which included breakfast and supper. Everyone in the group moaned about the food – for me it wasn’t too bad as I had been expecting the usual bland English affair... and that's what we got!

The atmosphere was festive and everyone smiled and talked to each other just like in Summer. A lot of silliness takes place. It’s great! There were a variety of interesting costumes on display. The ones that stood out were the 2 guys in dark suits who looked decent until they turned around to expose open backs showing the bras and thongs they were wearing underneath! In the Five Star concert, which I went to on my own because it clashed with Right Said Fred, I bonded with an ‘Amy Winehouse’ crew, and a group of ‘school girls’ who like me knew ALL the words, and dance steps to the songs, and screamed every time Stedman glanced our way! There was a lot of Super Heroes, a break dancing Scooby Doo and Mystery Inc, Surgeons, a Sheikh with his bodyguards, Cat women, The Joker from Batman dressed up as a nurse… I really miss having a camera!
Friday night, we dressed up as school girls – knee high socks, short tartan skirts, white blouses un-tucked and enough buttons undone to show a little cleavage. My roommate was a crazy Australian, who was there to get drunk and score with the boys. She kept going back to the room to top up her ‘fruit shoot bottle’ with the vodka that she’d snuck into the resort. A couple of other girls had the same goals. I don’t really like vodka, and I couldn’t keep up with them – so gravitated towards the Mediterranean’s in the group. It was great hanging out with them as they did not have social barriers in expressing themselves; greeting with hugs and kisses, a touchy feely group – reminded me of the guys I grew up with back home.
Saturday, we went as netball teams and had a private room cocktail party in Room 3.
Sunday we dressed up as old ladies (the boys too!!), and played Bingo in the Irish Bar, which according to Andy, our Fancy Dress group organiser, was ‘Boring in an intense kind of way’. Afterwards went for a fencing lesson.
Quite funny sword fighting dressed up as old ladies. Watched football and later on changed into 80’s themed outfits for the night’s entertainment. There was live entertainment every evening with old pop acts from the 80’s like Right Said Fred, 2 Unlimited, Five Star, Bewitched, 911; a really good tribute band for The Madness called Complete Madness.
Butlins is not for everybody though. A couple of Americans in our group, left after just one night. Apparently one of them ripped her fingernail. I don’t know what they’d been expecting, but we figured that maybe it was just too tacky for them and they were looking for an excuse to leave. Having fun is pretty much an attitude, and life is what you make of it. The appealing thing about Fancy Dress parties is that people let down reserve and slip into character of the costume, sometimes their alter egos. I was taken aback when my Aussie roomy told me that she was a Matron (so quite senior) at a London hospital.
I felt like I bonded with the group and I am looking forward to our Christmas party

Let’s meet up sometime!

If I had to pick a phrase that I utterly loathe in the English language, then this would be it!
It's
So vague
So open-ended
So inactive
So lazy

In fact, I may not be very fluent, but I'm almost 100% sure such a phrase does not exist in my mother tongue, Runyoro.

Back in the day, I used to say it a lot. Weeks, months, YEARS even, would go by… and ‘Some Time’ would never materialise.
Last month, I had a telephone conversation with a friend, which ended with him saying
“I really enjoyed this conversation. We should do this more often. Let’s get together sometime”
I responded, “When you say, let’s get together sometime, do you have a specific date in mind? Because if there isn’t, I can see us having this telephone conversation in a few months time, ending with the same sentiments… until the next telephone conversation”
There was a pause on the other end
Him: “You know, now that you say it, that is actually true. I never thought of it that way” We arranged to meet for drinks the following week

The first thing he told me was
“You know what you said the other day really challenged me.”
Apparently he was speaking to another friend, whom he hadn’t seen in a while, and was just about to end the conversation in his usual fashion, when he stopped himself and then made a definite appointment. In that moment, he realised this why he had drifted away from so many friends over the course of the years.

Now I can 'see' you my fellow Africans howling! "We are not ‘bazungu*’ who always make appointments to see people."
Tell me! When is the last time you met up with your friends… YES… you who live in London on your own, and the only contact you make with your friends is either by telephone or email. Do you even know what they look like these days?
(Don’t get me started on that particular peeve of mine. I hate the way phones have replaced face-to-face communication!)

Life in London is way too busy for vague phrases like ‘Let’s meet up sometime’

* white person or foreigner in Swahili language

bfm (black film maker) International Film Festival

I heard about this festival by chance. The person who told me about it, incidentally heard about it by chance too! All the people I talked to hadn’t heard about it either. And this was quite a significant event because it was the Festival's 10th Anniversary plus it had a lot more British film directors this time around in a field that is usually dominated by American film makers. I think Bfm’s publicity department will need to rethink it's marketing strategy!

On Tuesday I went to the British Film Institute for the black short film awards, hosted by Tameka Epsom (of ‘Three Non Blondes’ fame). She was very funny, but had a tendency to go on….and on….
The films screened were,
1) ‘Much Ado About A Minor Ting’, directed by Jesse Lawrence, set in the gang culture of Ladbroke Grove. It was funny and exaggerated in some places, but disturbing for me as I watched the dangerous reality teenagers have to contend with daily. It won best cinematography award
2) ‘Survivor’ directed by Nicole Volavka – dealt with the subject of political refugees and the lingering trauma suffered by them. I could relate to this film because I was born a refugee - my parents could not go back to Uganda during Idi Amin’s regime. The film struck home for me because it related to people from the countries of Sudan and Rwanda - which border Uganda. People here have no empathy for the immigrants who have suffered tremendously. I cried afterwards– for the characters in the film or for myself... I'm not sure. It won best script award.
3) ‘Man, Broken’ directed by Pezhmaan Alinia, about a man’s grief after the murder of his child on the streets. This was about 5 minutes long and I couldn’t believe it when I saw the credits rolling. Personally I thought, it needed a bit more? I had to choke back a laugh when the director said that it took him 6 months to do the film. 6 MONTHS?
4) ‘Win, Lose or Draw’ directed by Lawrence Coke concerning the experiences of the first Jamaican arrivals in the 1960’s. It was a mix of documentary, interviews with people who had come over on the Windrush and drama. The audience picked it as their best film
5) ‘One Of Us’, directed by Clint Dyer concerning the dilemma of a boy choosing between his career and that of his close friends.

Interesting evening! The freebies were also quite good – books by black writers. Makes a refreshing change from hair products!
I wouldn’t be me, if I didn’t comment on the nice selection of good-looking Brothers in the house! Afterwards while we were mingling at Benugo’s bar, listening to the sounds of Blacktronica, I had to restrain myself from gushing.

I think I should attend events like these more often ;-)

At the Ally Pally Fireworks, 8 November 2008

From left to right: Mikey, me, Krystle, Beth and Stuart

Jumping On The OBAMANIA Wagon

Barack Obama’s election for me, just made my day
My eyes were glued to the TV all afternoon watching the news replaying the moment his election was announced, the scenes of jubilation in America (and Kenya!), tears rolling down Jesse Jackson’s face, the MAN himself, and that speech! I was crying and laughing at the same time and floated on this high to Home Group, wanting to talk about it and rejoice.
Julian brought up the subject
“I know you are not from Kenya, but Uganda is pretty close by. You must be really pleased about Obama’s election”

Me: “Yeah, it’s a good thing, not just for Kenyans, but for all black people everywhere”
Martin, says: “You mean it’s not a good thing for white people?”
He said it in such an aggresive way that I didn’t even bother to respond to him. I wished that I had gone to my black friends celebration, because they would appreciate this momentous occasion.

The fact is, racism exists in Britain, institutionalised, mostly subtle but sometimes outright. There’s this false belief that UK doesn’t have it as bad as the USA.

Unless you are from an ethnic minority group, you probably won’t be affected by it. Martin, being white middle class, wouldn't experience it at all!

A black friend once told me that in school when she went for guidance on pursuing a career in children’s social work, the careers advisor told her she was wasting her time and should consider a career in sports or music. Perhaps the advisor meant well, after all these 2 areas appear to be the places where black people make a success of things

Benjamin Zephaniah sums it up in his poem ‘Three Black Males’*

We are only in white nations
When we win them gold in sports

What if you aren’t gifted at sports or music? What’s the point in trying anything else?
The only role models we have in any positions of influence are a mere handful. And even they tend to distance themselves from our community, moving out to more ‘respectable’ (read…non-black) neighbourhoods, marrying and raising their kids ‘white’. The irony is that in this society, if you have ‘a drop of black, you is black.’ When the poor kids come out of their cocoon, they experience a culture shock because they discover that they are still victims of the stereotyping that their parent tried to get away from. And it hurts them worse, because they didn’t see it coming.

My pet peeve is when Africans change their name to something that sounds more ‘western’ to improve their career prospects. I was horrified when my niece changed her last name to ‘Brown’. Why on earth would you WANT to work in a place that won’t hire you because your name sounds foreign? Obama has proved that you can still rise to the highest office in a nation, in the world even, with a foreign sounding name?

So after this rant, how do I end this?

If Obama’s election has achieved anything, it has shown the changing perceptions of black people in today’s world. I acknowledge that his rise was not a solo effort. Lots of people like Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr, the whole civil rights movement, even Condoleeza Rice, helped to pave the way for him.
Obama has challenged and overcome some of the stereotypes, and I have hope that my little black nephew, who is only 6 now, will have a better chance of pursuing his dreams. Who knows, these dreams may take him in the direction of sports or music (the last I heard I think it was super hero), but at least I know with such a powerful example of Obama, he’ll have the freedom to know that these aren't the ONLY options.

God bless Barack Obama. Keep him and family safe May he have a successful term in office. (Heck even 2 terms in office!!) Guide his decisions; surround him with advisors who want him to succeed, and not fail!

Is Jesus the answer?

There’s someone I know whose behavioural pattern is on a downward spiral. He is drowning in credit card debt, has no permanent home, a dead end job, a son he can’t relate to, a string of failed relationships…

A close friend is considering leaving her husband of 2 years. They are from opposite ends of the social stratum; she is a doctor, he is/was a rubbish collector. When they met, she thought she could inspire him to pursue a career as a chef, and for a while he went along with it. But after 2 years of being in and out of jobs, he is now unemployed. He hates chef work and has recently been diagnosed with epilepsy and now considers himself ‘disabled’. He shows no sign of wanting to work, stays at home all day, and when she comes home tired from a long shift at the hospital, their bed is unmade; there are still dishes in the sink. She is wondering whether she made a big mistake marrying this guy. “I want a man who can look after me. A man who has ambition... he isn’t that man”...

A work colleague has been diagnosed with an illness, which means she has to take steroids to control it. These affect her moods and make her extremely ill tempered and depressed. She is in her mid 30’s, from a culture where if you are still single at that age, you are despised. Because she is unmarried, it falls to her to shoulder the responsibility of looking after her elderly and sick mother. She has no life of her own, is frustrated, “I just want to fly away, just get away from this place…”

And then there’s me. Floating along in life with no purpose or direction, LONELY, unable to form close relationships due to a fear of being vulnerable and of rejection.
Disappointed that after 18 years this ‘ personal relationship with Jesus’ hasn’t yet materialised. I cast off the yoke of religious ritual which had proved futile in getting close to God, so that I could embrace him. And now it seems I exchanged one set of rituals for another. It seems to me that the only way to get close to God is to die and be with him.

Is Jesus the answer?

Last weekend I treated myself to a day out at Madame Tussaud’s. I’ve been keeping close tabs on my expenditure this month – writing down everything I spend. But as I was feeling so low all week after the disastrous interview, I thought, ‘Sod it! I’ll indulge and spend £25 pounds on myself.”
I had a ‘buy one get one free ticket’ voucher and asked little Ollie to hang out with me. This was quite handy because he brought along his camera and acted as my photographer. Some of the wax works were really lifelike e.g. Samuel L Jackson and the Queen. Others weren’t so good, like Will Smith. There were too many women lining up to take a picture of the George Clooney holding their hand and gazing into their eyes, so missed out on that one. Angelina and Brad also had a long queue. I took pictures with Morgan Freeman, Tom Cruise, John Travolta, Shirley Bassey, Justin Timberlake, Robbie Williams, Tiger Woods, Charles Dickens and Mr T. We couldn’t get into the Chamber of Horrors because they asked for an extra £3, which I thought was quite cheeky. The last ride was called the ‘Spirit of London’ where you sit in little taxis and go slowly around a mini roller coaster through waxworks depicting the history of London from Queen Victoria times todate. As you come out the ride a camera flashes and takes a photo - I came out looking very dark and bewildered (the lighting is never any good for us dark people).
We had lunch at Pizza Express courtesy of another buy one get one free meal voucher. Then we took a stroll through Regents Park, Freize Art Festival’s sculpture garden. Ollie kept referring to it as crap, saying that the money could have been better spent on people in the Third World who really need it… but he likes the Tate Modern art gallery?? which in my opinion is no different.

The skull was made from recycled tin cans. In the other photo, a reluctant Ollie forced to pose with a sculpture. Such enthusiasm! We rounded off the day at Hillsong London which was ok… it was the usual Hillsong. My little friend was impressed with the technical side of things, e.g. the lighting and visuals. But like me, thought that the sound mix was terrible – couldn’t really hear the vocals over the loud instruments. Also the sound engineer could have had less volume on the kick drum during the quiet ministry moments. The sermon was good because it talked about the Law, and how Jesus fulfilled it for us already. A timely reminder!

Tough Interview

On Friday I had an interview for a job as a trainee Internal Auditor.

I haven’t had an interview in ages, so was cacking it all week! I took 3 days off to buy an outfit, get my hair sorted and have a mock interview with Jeff! "You've got the job!", he said!
I couldn’t even go for my Home group or band practice because was really nervous!

To say it was a tough interview is a bit of an understatement. The only positive thing is that one of the guys on the panel had a nice smile, and genuinely seemed to want to help me during the interview by rephrasing questions.
On reflection, I guess there were too many rephrased questions, and on my part, vague, unspecific answers which does not bode well. They liked me, but I could sense a certain disappointment as I did not give them the answers they were looking for!

Now all I need to do is put it far from my mind! Instead I keep replaying the interview over and over again, chastising myself for not saying this or that! When friends ask me about it, I give a non-committal answer, however, if they keep pressing for more information, the tears start rolling!

Change the topic then!

I do not look forward to the interview results.

Electronic Misadventure

It all started when my mobile, Nokia 6630 fell in the toilet! Okay, that was my fault – I mean who puts their mobile in the back pocket! It was destroyed. At the time I wasn't particularly bothered. I have a spare Nokia 3310, which I use when travelling abroad. It’s nothing fancy and usually quite reliable. This time though it hs let me down. It won’t even charge.
Fortunately for me, my sister had left her spare Nokia 6030 at my house by mistake and I…ehem… appropriated it for my own use! You can imagine the horror I felt when last weekend, as I was about to cross a busy main road, it slipped out of my hands and fell right onto the road! I stood by in utter helplessness as first a car went by- missing it by a fraction. There was a short interval in the traffic, a brief flicker of hope…it just might make it… only to be crushed when the next car just smashed it. Ohhhhh!!!!!
My sister took pity on me and gave me her other spare phone, Samsung SGH – D500 with instructions that I had to be extra careful with this one because it had precious photos and valuable contact information on it.
“I will guard it with my life!” I vowed earnestly.
This morning, as I was sending a text message, the screen froze and WENT BLANK! It has REFUSED to go back to normal. Even when I switch it on and off, take out the battery.... nothing, NADA, NIENTE!!!

I think it has died!! What am I going to tell my sister!!!

And it isn't just the phones! My office laptop is to be replaced for the 3rd time this year!!! When the IT guy attempted to rebuild it, there was a server/user name conflict, which he has been unable to resolve. 2 weeks no laptop. This laptop at home, after it has had enough (30 minutes), freezes. Ctrl-Alt-Del has no effect...in fact that freezes too!!!I am always rebooting it! It also does not like the new Facebook format!

The lens on my beloved Canon IXUS 800 IS camera has started malfunctioning too. Either it doesn’t focus at all, or if it does, when I take a photo, it comes out as over exposed or with white lines going through it!

I am wondering. Is this an attack of the enemy to get me down? I’ve got to admit, I am feeling quite frustrated. It isn’t funny anymore!
Or is there something about me that is causing these electronic things to act up around me. Granted with the mobiles, my clumsiness played a part, but the non-charging of one, and freezing of the other??? How do I explain that?
A former colleague who was into Eastern stuff told me that my computer was acting up because according to Feng Shui, it was affected by my mood and I needed to calm down! I was in a particularly bad mood that day.
I don’t know much about Feng Shui, and have always dismissed it as superstitious nonsense. Perhaps I should read up on it although the whole 'energy' thing freaks me out… but now I am thinking, is what is happening to my electrical equipment a reflection of the negative nervous emotional state within? This morning I was feeling emotionally drained. I only got a couple of hours sleep because I’ve come down with a cold and nose was bunged up. I was also crying a lot because of a discussion I had had with a non-Christian friend that evening, who has closed his heart and mind to God. And then the phone stopped working. Any connection there?

Can an inanimate object be affected by my moods?

Reflections on religion,freedom and the Shawshank Redemption

Last night I watched the final scene in the Shawshank Redemption.
The character played by Morgan Freeman; ‘Red’, has been released from prison and while he is at his job bagging groceries, he catches the attention of the store manager and asks, “Personal break boss?”

The manager beckons him over and says, “You don’t need to ask me every time you need to go take a piss… just go…Understand?
Afterwards, Red reflects,

“40 years I’ve been asking permission to piss. I can’t squeeze a drop without say so. There’s a harsh truth to face, no way am I going to make it on the outside. All I do anymore is think of ways to break my parole so maybe they’d send me back. Terrible thing to live in fear, Brooks Hatlin knew it, knew it all too well. All I want is to be back where things make sense where I won’t have to be afraid all the time…”

The thing with my traditional religious upbringing is that I became as institutionalised as Red. For so long I’d been told what to believe, how to pray, how to please God, even more so, how to anger God. Everything was structured, predictable...
Becoming a Christian broke my neatly ordered world. This should be a good thing right? But then why do I feel that I am in a kind of free fall with no parachute. Or like a surfer caught in a rip tide, drifting out to sea, helpless against the strong currents
Nothing is black and white. Issues like homosexuality, faith, healing are still grey areas and open to personal interpretation. I cannot rely anymore on unchallenged liturgies, catechisms, and sacraments to tell me what to believe.
There are no formulas because...

“God is not a vending machine”,

"God is not tame",

"He cannot be manipulated".

With no rosaries or books of common prayers to help me, I find it difficult to even find the ‘right’ words with which to pray. I struggle to have faith in a God who may or may not choose to heal or save people; or to be a witness to the boundless love of this God in the face of human… even Christian... suffering. I cannot in all honesty testify that the Holy Spirit can transform your life, when mine, 18 years down the line, is still unchanged, selfish and rotten to the core.
And I am afraid because I don’t know how I can claim to be Christian and yet have such treacherous thoughts. I’m like the Israelites, who having escaped slavery, longed to go back to Egypt, the place of their captivity.

Or as more recently portrayed in the movie, the Matrix, by Cypher, who having become disillusioned with the grim existence in the real world, betrays Neo to the Agents because he prefers his old life of ignorance within the matrix.

"Ignorance is bliss" , he says

But is it?

I recognise that ‘religion’ was a kind of prison, and I broke away from it because I felt it was lacking something. But it was easy and the rules of engagement were clearly defined. You didn't have to think for yourself because others did it for you

Religion = safe, secure, predictable

Christianity= dangerous, uncertain, unpredictable, SCARY!

I'm torn because, as Red said in the movie, I want to be back where things make sense where I won’t have to be afraid all the time.
Yet, I don’t want to miss out! I don’t even know what it is I don’t want to miss out on. I don't want to go back to the emptiness, hollowness of religion, and yet I don't want to keep on feeling...unstable