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How to date a Swiss diplomat


TRIBE Member
You can't just THRUST yourself upon a diplomat, let alone a Swiss one.

Jambo Bwana - YouTube

You must first get to know their friends.

And so it was that I befriended a German lady and another German guy. One of those two was gay. I had no idea at the time which was which or if it mattered or if I cared.

But I was working in an office where the temperature was always very hot. Not warm, hot.

When I awoke in my bed, it was always 30 degrees. Celcius. I was encouraged by the likes of the cold blooded idiots at DFAIT to wear a mosquito net, but I gave up on them much more quickly than they gave up on me.

I had the unusual pleasure of having a gay muslim as a landlord, which worked out well for me, but I'm sure, is not working out very well for him anymore, now that he's married to a woman. I'm sure she's not quite happy either.

But I could get up from my bed very naked and walk to the shower where the water, without heat, would feel very refreshing. A shower room in this country is quite large, it isn't so much that water is spraying on you, like it does here in the west, but it's falling on you. It's quite a bit more gentle.

As I'm sure I've mentioned before, when I come out of the shower room, the houseboy had prepared all my clothes neatly for me. This was a blessing as I'm a terrible dresser. He didn't help me dress of course but once I was done that I could go to the table and breakfast was ready.

I appreciated this for many reasons. Sometimes, I had a woman sleep over with me. She would stay at my place as I had some privileges that she did not. I don't mean sexual things, of course I was gay then as I am now. I mean things like sheets and air conditioning. You come to appreciate that in a poverty nation 6 degrees south of the equator.

When I sat down at the table, my Chapati and Chai tea were ready. Somedays, I ate it quickly, in a rush to be on time for work. Some days, I ate it very slowly, hungover. And somedays, I just didn't eat it at all.

Somedays, I just looked at the pointlessness of it all.

I recall one morning, the houseboy dressed me, and I sat down to eat my Chipati, and I just stared blankly at the milk.

Mudi> "Would you like some tea?" (he said this in Kiswahili)
me> "No. No. I thnk I am not going to work today."
Mudi> "Are you feeling sick? Maybe you have the Malaria?"
me> "No. I'm just not going to work."

So Mudi became a bit frustrated, because he was used to having the day alone to do his chores. His chores consisted of cleaning my clothes and wiping the dust out of the concrete apartment. And making sure there was enough of whatever to make the Chipatis and tea for my breakfast every day.

Instead, I texted my friend, a Swiss diplomat. I texted something to the effect of "fuck it. let's just go somewhere."

It's easy to call into work "sick" when they are not paying your paycheque. And in a way, I was sick. I was mentally sick. I needed a serious break from the poverty and nonsense that I saw everyday at work. The very people I was put there to help. I admit, I was weak, poor, but not as poor, and much weaker than the people whom I was put there to help.

The diplomat was much more equipped than I was. Technically, I was a volunteer, although I was also paid. He was no volunteer, he had diplomatic immunity and a nice big vehicle with red plates. I excused Mudi for the day and then my friend arrived around 10am.

It's difficult to explain how hot it is at 10am at the equator on the coast. You have humidity and geography all working against you. That's why I didn't wear a shirt or pants. Just some kind of shorts, I suppose, bathing suit, and flip flops.

So I was out in the deep sunshine, the balcony, wearing my swim trunks and flip flops, smoking an "Embassy King", when I see the unmistakable vehicle of a Swiss Diplomat entering our private apartments.

me> "MUDI!"
me> "MUDI!!! MUDI!!!"
Mudi> "Yes?"
me> "I'm going for a while. Please stay here and watch the place."

And when I got into Stephan's government vehicle, I noticed there was the German lady and, what I later learned to know, his German boyfriend.

The vehicle drove us so far as a beach somewhere north of the city. We ate fish and had beer there. They all spoke German and I quickly realized that my German was not fluent. Occasionally they would pick up that I didn't understand, and so they would switch to perfect English. I was obviously the "tag-a-long".

The woman made some comment about lack of culture. She preferred Europe. Later I would realize she was the only heterosexual in the group. She left.

So the boat came to bring us to the islands. The drivers of the boat, they warned us, "Stay on the beach. Stay on the beach where we can see you."

Now there have been many idyllic photos and movies made of beaches. Thailand ranks up there. But this is a place unknown to the west, unknown to most tourists. In fact most tourists, if there are any, would go to Zanzibar, but this was one island more quiet than that. An Island so private and unknown that I will not say its name.

My camera did not function properly, because the sun was so bright and the sand so white, that every picture I tried to take was washed out.

Surely, the sun was bleaching my hair, so I strode into the Indian Ocean, and I floated thereabouts. The water, warm as a bath, cleansed and held me up. I could close my eyes and enjoy the pulsating rythm of the ocean and the periodic piercing of sunlight.

I'd have floated away in this way except the beautiful Stephan came and got me.

Stephan> "Hey Jeff!"
me> "Ai!" I was asleep, almost
Stephan> "Willst du etwas zu essen?"
me> "Stephan, hey you look good?"
Stephan> "Es ist bereit... Kommst du oder?"

He didn't wait for my answer, but grabbed my hand, and probably for the best, as he was swimming and I was clearly floating away.

When we returned to the beach, there was fish grilling. I didn't know it then, but it was prepared the same way as the Japanese. Here is the recipe:

1. Catch a fish
2. Make a fire, or something hot
3. Put the fish on the hot thing
4. Wait a while, turn the fish over
5. If you have salt, put it on. Otherwise, use ocean water.
some time passes
6. If you are in Africa, just use your fingers to eat the meat. If you are in Japan, use chopsticks to do the same.

At this point, after the fish, the German boy decided to leave, by the boat.

The Swiss guy and I decided to stay. I wanted to stay for an adventure, the Swiss guy wanted to stay to shag me. Or at least, that's what I figured later.

Floating in that ocean, at that time, was and is likely the highlight of my life. If someone can say that there is a meaning to life, then I can say I found it there, floating helplessly; held up by the majesty of our planet and warmed unconditionally by the rays of our sun. It was, and is, a perfect moment.

So it was only Stephan and I on the beach, and I asked to do the impossible,

me> "Let's go to the otherside!"

"Otherside" meant the otherside of this small island, facing the pure Indian Ocean, which left us vulnerable to real pirates and scavengers of the like you might find in "star wars". I'm not sure if Stephan was just excited about seeing ME excited, or was just buying time, but we both passed a baobab tree and entered the small jungle on a small island.

I quickly became aware of my barefeet. The sand was no longer hot, but the roots of trees were barbed and stung me. Can you imagine being stung by a tree? It's about as embarassing as hitting a parked car. I ran on regardless. Stephano the Swiss diplomat started to complain,

Stephan> "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
me> "Well we can see the other side!"
Stephano> "Aber es ist vielleicht gefährlich?"

I was drunk. But I heard what he said and started thinking again.
The path became very small, and I could not see any ocean on the other side.

Stephano> "Bitte, komme mit."
me> "Yeah I guess so."

A snake crossed the sand.

Once we got back, there were African Police waiting for us. Apparently we had broken some law. The law was, do not go to the far side of this island. .

The police took us by boat back to the mainland and then the diplomat took me in his vehicle back to his house.

I enjoyed the cold comfort of air conditioning, but also, the warm comfort of a beautiful Swiss man wrapping me until breakfast.

Alex D. from TRIBE on Utility Room


TRIBE Member
I have pictures of this adventure but my domain fell apart once I became unemployed. Now all my pictures are on stupid facebook and I have no idea how I can link them here.

Maybe that's for the best.