Call it boredom call it  morbid curiosity, call it what you will, but I had this over powering urge to pull over at the side of the road on Saturday night  to investigate this party going on in this disused stadium outside Tzaneen.

As I pulled up to the gate there were about 10 cars stopped randomly with mean looking African dudes  hanging around interrogating the drivers to allow entry to this place that looked like a sure fire way of getting relived of all your worldly possessions.. The whole scene looked dodgy.

“If we go in here we will get killed” said my Afrikaans companion.

Now there is something I should explain about my Psyche here. I have never been one to pass up an opportunity to be truly offensive to unsuspecting deviants: I Seem to thrive on getting away with saying the wrong thing to the wrongest of people, but somehow getting away with it.

As I pulled in I wound down my window and this African woman approached.
“I’m looking to but a six pack of beer and to get shot.” I announced with a smile. Knowing full well you can pretty much say anything with a smile and get away with it. It really is all in the delivery here…
“Yes. Ok you can enter but you must buy 6 drinks each” came the reply.
Suspicion kicked in, How much are they? Expecting some take the piss amount to be quoted putting the Ritz to shame. 5 Rand each came the response. (6 drinks at 35p each was not going to be a problem).
So I drove through trying to negotiate being able to park before this African bird would fetch the drinks.

There was this admirable mutual air of distrust

– me expecting her to take my beer money and run and her expecting me to drive off and not actually order beer (The Lunatic). This took a while to negotiate even more so as she kept saying “yes” to every question I asked here – even though they were contradictory:

“So should I park first of stop here and get the beer?”
“Yes”
“Well which is it Park or Stop?”
“Yes”
Stop?”
“Yes”
“Well I’ll just park first then.”
We got out and bought the beer from a mobile trailer bar – the kind you find on racecourses where this very confused African guy looked at us as if to say what the fuck are you guys doing here?
Once these were purchased me and Rolf – my companion the 17 year old fellow student at the flight school. Got out of the car ( not before stowing our wallets and other valuables as I was a bit nervous at the prospect of being hideously beaten, robbed and buried here.)
Around us were about 40 cars parked all over this football pitch, doors and boots open blaring music. We took some beers and strolled out into the 200 crowed. With in 6 seconds. I heard a menacingly accusing voice:

“Hey Whiteboy”

I looked around. Well there certainly weren’t any other white people here – just a sea of black people mostly looking at me and Rolf like we had stepped into the wrong part of town with a “I hate (the N word) placard strapped to our backs dressed like the KKK.”
Fuck it. Do or Die Bray. I thought. I strolled right up to my accuser and stared him in the face.

“I let out a grin and approached him, he was surrounded by about 10 figity looking black guys staring at me with suspicious eyes. To be fair what the hell was I doing here anyway.

“Hey what’s up Black man! I beamed. Who is getting married then?!”

lf expecting a sea of 9mm hand cannons being cocked in my face I was pretty relived to see him and his companions laugh and we started chatting. The Ice was broken, and not my face. This was ging to be an interesting evening.
Anyway this guy called “Pitball” (I shit you not) introduced me to this African Girl called Lorell. Lorell was a 24 year old, who was instantly amiable if a little direct…

“ You should got to Johannesburg, the Heart of Africa!”

she said.

“Really” I enquired, “ Why is that then”
“It is the only place you get mugged and they will give a blow job”
“Pardon? What a the same time?” I replied somewhat taken a back. Then musing on it for a minute….“Why I don’t know I would be pissed off or grateful.”
“Yes and they would ask you how much you need to get home as well and give you the money too.”

Now let me think about his one for a minute.

According to this girl some crazy African bird comes up to you in Soweto, pulls out a gun, takes your money, then just to make you feel totally violated, sucks you off and then gives you your bus fare (out of your own money) to get home. (God forbid you got robbed and sucked off again on the way home.) But then again, I had seen a newspaper headline in “The Sowetan” just five days ago saying “CRAZED SEX MAD WOMEN ON RAPE SPREE – man Treated for bruised penis” Any thing is possible here….

Wow. And that is the heart of Africa? I asked? She nodded and smiled back. I fucking love this country.

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