One of the days i used to long for, while young, were those we would sit down with my dad. Days he would cheerfully narrate how he would one day take us to Maasai Mara National Park, to have a good time, and most of all, eat crocodile meat. And i would think “this must be an awesome place, and i can’t wait to go there”. Couldn’t really tell if he, himself had ever eaten some, it never occurred to me, to ask him. The tale itself was self satisfying. These are days that would make me sleep and wake up in a good mood, days i would proudly retell to my friends back then, and they would all be surprised just like i was, on how people eat crocodile meat, what it would taste like, and those were good days. Better days than when he would come drunk and cause havoc.
I don’t know my reason for this piece, but it’s been propelled by the liking. No, not liking, loving. The love i have always had of Switzerland. I have dreamed and longed to one day travel to that place. As it is, i don’t think anything or anyone can change my perspective that there is no place more beautiful than Switzerland. My goodness!. I have lost count of the times i have gone on YouTube, checking videos of the places, saving photos from Twitter, and i will be like” this must be what heaven is”
Perhaps if my dad was still alive, i would tell him, “how about after we’ve been to Maasai Mara, eaten that crocodile meat, we head to Switzerland? ” and that would sound beautiful, still sounds beautiful to me.
And it’s crazy to think of the first day i actually ate crocodile meat. It was courtesy of my uncle. It was his graduation day, getting his PhD, and to wrap up his day in decorum, he took us out to Fogo Gaucho, some nice eating joint. With all the food that was displayed before us, i was highly interested in the crocodile meat. As i took the first bite, i am not sure what i expected it to taste like, and i still can’t remember, not with all the euphoria that was flooding my system. Yet something felt amiss.
I was living a dream, i was eating crocodile meat! only that it was minus my dad, and the heart of Maasai Mara!! and it felt sad, but still fuelled my need and justification of one day going to Maasai Mara, getting on one of those hot air balloons , with the Mara, at my feet, and if i’m lucky, witness the wild beast migrations, one of the wonders of the world.
After i have cancelled that off my list, then i will have Switzerland to save up for, and live my dream through the dream and tales of my father. His tales will become mine, and when that time comes, i will have a piece themed” i lived my dream, through my father’s dream and tales”. And will prolly cry, cry cause he won’t have been there, to live his own dream.