This story was adapted from one told by a friend of mine about a trip that she took. It is changed and altered but I ran across it the other day in my journal and wanted to share it.

Priscilla always wanted to go to Africa. She loves African music. She tried to find a tour to take her to the villages to hear music. But she couldn’t find one. Someone hooked her up with an expert on African tours who said “what you want doesn’t exist.”

So she just decided to sign up for what she called the “old geezer trip” and go and see the animals even though she isn’t that interested in animals. She finally found one that sounded like it could work. Her tour guide said, “You will meet Decatur, he is the best in Kenya. You’ll like him, you both have the same sense of humor.” Priscilla was skeptical.

Priscilla was on the bus and Decatur was the bus driver. He invited her to sit up front with him and he shared his vast knowledge about all the plants and scenery and animals. And he wasn’t short, he was well over 6’ tall. She felt an attraction. He held out his hand to shake hers. She thought he had a nice butt. She said, “nice grip.”

They traveled for a week, he leading the group. Then her tour was going where he didn’t go. He said in a private moment, “may I kiss you?” She said “yes.” He kissed her. She had to sit down on the car bumper. He said, “oh shit, shit, shit, I am in love with a white woman.” He told her, “a shock went through my heart when I shook your hand.”

Priscilla said, “Damn.”

He called by radio every night while she was on the tour. He said, "this is very expensive. 'I love you, can you say that?'" "No I can’t" she said, "I can say that I miss you and I think about you a lot.”

At the airport, he said, “you are so white, your arm looks like a plucked chicken.”

She returned to California. She thought, “Should I just go home and say, 'nice vacation?' Or what?” They continued to communicate. The first time she want back to Africa, she was nervous to go by herself with this man into the bush country and the night before, she left one of her sons and her mother called her and begged her not to go.

But she arrived and he met her in Nairobi and took her to his village and they had a 3-day celebration and killed a goat. Everyone there speaks at least three languages. Decatur speaks 9 and was learning French. The first time he came to America, he had never been on a plane or been out of Kenya. His children wrote her and said “please don’t let them shoot my father.”

He and Priscilla went to a tony party in a lavish home, dinner for 10. Normally, when Priscilla arrived at this home, the husband said, “oh good, you can cook.” The hostess made risotto and had a bone and Priscilla said, "where is the sauce," and the hostess said, “it didn’t turn out.”

There was golden cutlery and beautiful flowers. Other guests brought hors d’oeuvres and dessert and the hostess put a bowl on the table with partially cooked rice and a bone and it was supposed to be osso buco.

Decatur later said “that house, it was so beautiful and the table, it was so beautiful and the people, they were so nice, but the food, it was shit. I could not feed that food to my goat, the rice, crunch, crunch.”

He came to America 5 times. They bought property together in Kenya. He built them a home. Mt. Kilmanjaro is always in the fog. It is said that the only time you can see it is when you are in love. They could see it.