Notes from Africa. Part 1.

I'm sitting poolside at Steve and Stephs place.

The "Gardener" has arrived with a dozen twisties of the local marijuana for me to sample. I've got no Rizla papers so I have to improvise in order to roll a joint. I get a B&H out my pack and roll it inbetween my fingers to empty the tobacco out of it. The tobacco gets emptied onto a piece of paper and I make a mix of weed and a little tobacco and pour it into the empty cigarette paper.

I remove the filter and insert a roach. I reach for my lighter and put the flame to my first African joint. The smoke hits my lungs and I cough at how strong it is. I can taste the green in my mouth and I feel it begin to invade my senses. Good God this is strong.

A pair of large birds fly overhead and I begin to laugh hard as Hunter S Thompson's voice chimes into my head... "We were somewhere outside Jo'burg when the drugs began to take hold... Suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was filled with what looked like giant bats... Holy Jesus what are these Goddamned animals?" I lose my grip and laugh so hard that tears come from my eyes and I get a stitch in my side. I put the joint down, looked at it through watery eyes and said aloud, "Fuck me. That's strong shit."

The CD player behind me plays Vertigo by U2 as I stare into the water of the pool. The pool cleaning machine clicks and clacks as it sucks microscopic algae from the bottom. The hose of the cleaner shakes on the surface of the water and creates eccentric waves that reflect the sun that blazes overhead. Rainbows are created on the surface of the water and I lie back and watch the light bounce off the underside of the grass roof of the poolhouse. It looks like a fire is spreading across it.

The "Gardener" asks me if I like the grass. I try to get my mind into gear and answer. "It's strong stuff. Do you guys smoke this stuff a lot?" I ask. "We throw it onto the fire." He replies.

The thought strikes me that this is not the kind of thing that should be done on a regular basis. It'd pickle your mind. I can only keep talking for so long. The grass is really kicking in now. I finish the joint and decide that I need to lie down. Quickly. Before I pass out.

I pick up my pack of cigarettes and the book I was going to read and head towards the house. I only just make it to the bed before the weed really hits me. ZANG! WHOOMPH and KAPOW.

Welcome to Africa...