No, not a real island. But a metaphorical one.
Let me explain.
I live in the most westernized country in Africa. Yes, Really. Despite popular opinions, and i’m pointing fingers at the Europeans and Americans here, I do not have a pet lion, I do not ride a an elephant called Babaar to work and I do in fact know how to work a washing machine. I drive a German automobile (calm down. It cost less than my shoes), I savour Hazelnut Cappucino under the moonlit sky and I even enjoy listening to music from my iPod.
I once even had a ‘foreigner’ ask me if I had internet, when I mentioned I was from Africa. The perplexing thing was that he was responding to a post I had made on an internet message board…?
…?
…………..?
…………………?…………….?…………..?
I’m seriously being serious. What is it about the word Africa, that when you hear it, the blinders come up and the only thing you see is a bunch of half naked black men and women, beating their animal skin drums and eulalating into the early hours of the morning.
Just to let you know, i’m a pasty white guy. Big shock, I know.
But, could this be the reason why we can’t get good music, books or films here?
Although the pop culture swill manages to surface in our stores, everything else has to be special ordered with an exhorbitant freight charge added on. It’s highway robbery I tell you!
Does anyone know when the boat to the real world leaves? I need to get off this island.