Day 46

After 3 days of travel, I'm home.

Where to begin?

My flight was to leave Mombasa at 7:20pm on Saturday night. At 7:00pm the runways at Moi International Airport lose power. They make an announcement that they are going to work on it and we'll take off as soon as it's fixed. We wait. And wait. And wait. At 12:40am (5 hours and 40 minutes of waiting later) they say the problem cannot be fixed. They will put us in a hotel for the night and then bring us back. What hotel do they take us to? One in Nyali. 45 minutes away. At 1:30am I crawl into bed. At 4:00am I receive a call- "Be in the lobby at 5:30am". Being the smart guy that I am, I go to the lobby at 5:40 knowing there'll be a delay. I'm the third person there. Evidently not so smart. We finally leave at 6:00am. We get to the airport at 6:45am and are told we're going to be put on the 7:45am flight to Nairobi. An hour of pandemonium later it's finally my turn to see the ticket agent. She tells me that I've missed the 7:45am flight (no shit you dumb bitch it’s 7:45 right now) but gives me my boarding pass for the 8:15am flight. I would then get to Nairobi at 9:00am, stay in Nairobi until the evening Amsterdam flight (10:00pm) arrive in Amsterdam at 5:00am, stay in Amsterdam until 3:00pm and then get on the evening flight to JFK. So essentially she wants me to spend a day in Nairobi, a day in Amsterdam, and then a day flying home to New York. They'll give me a hotel in Nairobi, but not in Amsterdam. I say no and explain that I want to take the morning fight from Nairobi to Amsterdam, not the evening flight and then I want to use the money for the Nairobi hotel on a hotel in Amsterdam, and will thus spend two days in Amsterdam rather than a day here and a day there. She says no. I ask to speak to a manager. I speak to the manager. She says absolutely not, she will not send me to Amsterdam until the evening flight. I then speak to her manager. This process takes an hour. It's now 8:45, the 8:15 has left (or so I thought) and I'm going ballistic. I start screaming. I am going stark raving mad because it has now been 2 hours of me trying to get a boarding pass (on top of the 12+ hour delay) and I am just getting shuffled around. All the travelers around me start being sympathetic because they saw that I was there before them, I have the longest to go (the only American, they are all going back to Europe) and that no one in helping. I'm screaming so much that for a second I almost think I better stop or I'm going to be arrested or something but at that point I don't really care anymore. Finally someone brings me a new set of boarding passes. I look at them. They are for the SAME itinerary I had at 7:45am!!! I scream "This is by far the most incompetent group of individuals I have ever encountered in my 25 years on this earth". Their eyes get big and they say "Fine, go, but you we're not giving you any vouchers or money, you have to pay for everything yourself" "FINE, GLADLY, just get me the fuck out of Kenya". They give me my boarding passes. I look at them and they are from Mombasa to Nairobi to Amsterdam. Not to JFK. They say that I have to take care of it myself in Amsterdam and that they aren't going to help me. They start pushing me to the gate and I look at the woman dead in the eye and scream "I fucking hate all of you" and go. It's 9:15 and the 8:15 flight, to my suprise, has not left yet. When I get on the plane I shout "A pox on Kenya Airways" and everyone starts laughing. Even in my seething rage, I can still pull out a giggle. Due to our 15+ hours of being held hostage by Kenya Airways the Euro travelers and I have formed some kind of sick bond. At 9:30 we finally take off.

The flight from Nairobi to Amsterdam was set to leave at 11:00am. We arrive at 10:45am and to my utter amazement they are delayed (God is smiling on me!!) and I make it on. When I arrive to Schipol aiport I go to KLM and explain. Instead of making me pay for my own hotel, they get me a hotel, they give me a 10 Euro voucher for food at the airport, they give me a 50 Euro voucher for my next KLM/Northwest flight, and they give me a 10 minute international calling card to notify others of my delay. I didn't even so much as blink in their direction. They just gave it all to me without me even asking. All I said was "I need to get a boarding pass to JFK because of the power loss in Mombasa" and they started showering me with all the amenities. Long live Western civilization.

So, Schipol International Airport in Amsterdam is an amazing airport to arrive in. It is huge, clean, and has a mall!!! I left all my clothing for the kids at Dickson (another slow attempt to gay them up) so I literally just had the clothing on my back. Luckily there's a Mexx and an H&M in Schipol Airport so I bought a new outfit and was on my way to the hotel. I thought I'd be at some shitty airport hotel (which I was MORE than happy to take) but no, I was not at the airport Marriot. I was put at the Schipol A4 hotel. It was like the fucking Four Seasons. Huge room, huge tub, king size bed, patio, living room area, the works. I showered, changed, and headed to what the www.gayamsterdam.com called Amsterdam's only 7-night a week gay club. The name? The Cock Ring. Ya. It's gross and full of old men, and had a "dark room". I've never been to a place that actually had a dark room, nor have I ever been in one, so I pretty much dipped out of there as soon as I walked in. I asked the doorman where all the young guys are and he says "Flower district". Naturally. Leave it to faggots to hang out in the flower district.

I stopped to get some fast food noodles on my way and found that even in non-English speaking countries I can't escape the torture that is known as Radiohead. I was eating for 11 minutes and they were still playing the one Radiohead song that was playing when I walked in. Their tunes are endless. Who needs an 11 minute song? 11 minutes is far too long for a song…unless it’s a Madonna remix.

When I arrived at Exit, the young gay bar, I was super happy. Yes, the music was crap. Yes, they smoked in doors. Yes, it smelled like dirty, sweaty, unshowered European, but it was gay, gay, gay. It was such a release. I literally was laughing at the guys there because they ALL knew the choreographed moves to old Spice Girls songs and screamed like little girls when songs like "What Is Love" by Haddaway and "Crazy" by Britney Spears came on. So bizarre. Dutch guys are really hot except for one thing that I couldn't get over. They all have really small teeth. Their teeth are like the size of American baby teeth. It was freaky and weird and it turned me off from everyone (on top of the not white and crooked-ness of their teeth). There was finally one guy who was hot and we talked a bit and when I asked him what he did he looked at me like I was insane for not knowing. Like I was the stupidest person on the planet. He looked at me and said "I'm a model". Now, you all know I live for fashion and I can tell you if he's a model, then I'm a Supreme Court Justice. He then said he's done modeling all over the U.S. in places like Los Angeles, San Diego, and Dallas. Now, I can tell you there is virtually no modeling scene in those cities. Models in America are in essentially all in New York, ESPECIALLY models who are flown over from places like say Holland. I should have asked him "Who have you modeled for?" but I was over it and said my good night and left. This guy was barely of porn-model caliber. Too short, big ears, small teeth, uneven eyes, thin lips. Despite what I just wrote, he was very, very attractive; just not a model. Now, it's very possible that he's done a little "modeling" for things here and there, but he was not a model and I highly doubt that Wal-Mart or whomever would fly in a Dutch model for a photo shoot in Dallas. I've "modeled". I've been paid for the use of my photographs for flyers and some print and I've even been on a cover, but I would rather call myself the most heinous thing I can think of (a heterosexual) than call myself a model. On top of being tired and ready to leave, the model thing was just too much so I said bye-bye and was off.

By now it was 3:30am and I had to be up at 8:30am so I headed back to the hotel. I had to take the train and then a cab, so by the time I got to bed it was 5am. I got up to have the intercontinental breakfast and it was more like the interplanetary breakfast. The spread was HUGE. It was like I walked into the buffet at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. So, the lesson is volunteer in Kenya, be really patient with moronic Air Kenya staff and then lose your shit and become a flaming cunt and as a result you will be rewarded with a free trip to Amsterdam, a nice hotel, a gay bar, and a wonderful breakfast.

Oh ya, the smoking weed in Amsterdam thing? AS IF! I don’t smoke weed in the US why the fuck would I smoke in Amsterdam? Unless it has the word “cock” after it, I want nothing to do with the word “smoking”.

This is turning so long and I’ve barely scratched the surface, so here’s shorthand for the rest of what I wanted to address:

1) If you’re traveling to Europe, prepare for headaches. The dollar is very weak, so EVERY European is coming to the US during the next few months (peak travel season) so get to the airport EARLY!
2) There’s a Euro porn star named Mukhtar Safarov with a 9” by 9” dick. I saw an ad for the live show he will be doing at The Cock Ring next month. Seeing the picture of a 9” by 9” dick was like the most obscene thing I’ve ever seen…and I’ve seen Kenyan orphan diarrhea.
3) I saw a ton of those Harijuku girls in Amsterdam (no idea if that’s a subsect of the youth there or what) but they are some funny shit.
4) Kenya Airways likes to play black TV shows in-flight (naturally). I watched a few episodes of “Everybody Hates Chris” and it’s actually pretty funny.
5) The sun doesn’t set in Amsterdam until 10:30pm. It was bizarre and fabulous.
6) Everyone accepts dollars, but we don’t accept anything else. Is that an allegory for America? Or is it simply because we’re awesome and everyone wants to be us and is jealous (especially Canada)?
7) I ran into two people in Amsterdam who said they were “New Yorkers” when I asked where they said “Albany” and I almost slapped them. Boroughs or bust!
8) I saw the doucheiest of douche bag shirts and the douchiest of the douche bags was wearing it. The shirt said “It ain’t gonna suck itself” I thought “Ya, and with that shirt no one else will either”
9) As a middle eastern man I’ve figured out how terrorists can get onto airplanes undetected. Time and time again I’ve seen that sense of doubt in security personnel’s eyes when they come across my passport or boarding pass or whatever, but then they look up and I see this sense of relief wash over their faces. Why? Because I look like the faggotiest faggot that ever lived. Who’s ever heard of an angry homo? A gay man doesn’t blow up (except for when you spill on his white pants). So all the towel heads need to do is lose some pounds, put on women’s jeans, buy the right accessories, put a hint of pink in their voice and learn to swish their ass around a little when they walk. Also, a little lip gloss and some tweezers go a long way.

Finally, thank you for reading. I had a blast during my travels and in sharing them. Much love to all.

P.S. Don’t worry, there WILL be a sequel. I’m aiming to be back in Kenya and at Dickson in August of 2008.

xoxo to all.