1. So yesterday, I told you that the first song I head on the radio in Nairobi was Adina Howard’s “Freak Like Me”. It stood out to me because the station didn’t appear to be oldies. The announcer was doing a call-out for women who had given birth at 12/13 and were now raising daughters who were pregnant at 12/13. The demo had to contain a lot of women 24-26 for that call out (and my driver was no more than 25, okay maybe 30. You never know with Black people). The station was also advertising an upcoming expose about homosexuality in Nairobi. Apparently, sex tourism and "down low” behavior are an issue, and homosexuality isn’t all that tolerated. It all sounded very Springer 90s. I say all that to say this: for a station with salacious topics and a mid-20s demo, I expected to hear hip-hop or R&B, or whoever the local music artists are, not a song that was popular when I was, literally, 19. After that came some unidentifiable Michael McDonald-esque music.Read More
I have no idea what goes on at the pool. I can’t see it from the DJ booth. And even if I did know, I would not tell because what happens in Johannesburg – at least the wildest stuff—stays in Johannesburg.
Anyway, everyone’s gone for an hour. I stay in the living room spinning. I do an R. Kelly set—TP2—to help out whatever situation is going on in the pool. At 7:30, a new group of people show up, ask where everyone is, and head down for their own dip. I still get the feeling that something is up, something I can’t put my finger on. I’m up because I’m jet lagged and my body thinks it’s midnight. Why is everyone else up?Read More
2013 is going to be the sh-t. I don’t know that for sure, but I’m trying to do what life coaches tell you to and speak my will into existence.
It’s started off well-enough, anyway. On that rooftop in Johannesburg, we get wind of a house party allegedly close by. Johannesburg is like LA in the since that “close” actually means a 30 minute drive.
We—me, Stephie, and Thuli, park in front of a gated home somewhere around 1:30 AM. The house is dark and there’s no music or sound at all. We fear we’ve missed the party on the long ride over. Weird, because Johannesburg, like New York, parties into the wee hours.Read More