Top 5 best lines from Toto's Africa
5: Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes Benz
4: So I called up the Captain, "Please bring me my wine"
He said, "We haven't had that spirit here since 1969"
He said, "We haven't had that spirit here since 1969"
3: There she stood in the doorway, I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself
"This could be Heaven or this could be Hell"
And I was thinking to myself
"This could be Heaven or this could be Hell"
2: And in the master's chambers, they gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast
1: "Relax," said the night man, "We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!"
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Isn't it good
How the pace of your breathing is showing your fear
And the white of your eyes is the color of prey
But I ain't gonna eat you, I'll just get away
It's a horrid noise, listen to yourself
It's a human glare, it's a human smell
It's a city of rot, if you look and see
But I'll choke your plans for me
There was no one in this house, though it was clearly in use. A fire was going in a hearth, and atop it was a pot of liquid. The liquid was unidentifiable, nor could I distinguish its vapors from the rest of the various scents that surrounded me in this small one-room structure. It bubbled in a thick, viscous way, so it didn't appear to be water, but its black tinge with subtle hints of violet and green made me hesitant to inspect it closely.
I watched it for a few minutes, in between observing the other curios in the room. It had begun to boil increasingly vigorously, and so I picked up what I thought to be a makeshift fireplace poker, and then I was suddenly greeted by the inhabitant of this house.
"Hello!" a shirtless man covered with body paint said to me. I nearly jumped from being startled, as did Toto. The man continued in perfectly good English, "How may I help you?"
"I am so sorry to have intruded on your house..."
"Oh, it's no problem. I'm just a humble shaman."
I was speechless as the man walked over to the fire, removed the pot, and poured its contents into a small bowl. The liquid turned to a strange dark blue color as it did. "Here, have some soup."
I hesitated.
"Are you scared?" he asked. "It's not poison; I can assure you of that."
Being as thirsty as I was, I began drinking it. It was quite gratifying, gently sweet with a honey-like flavor.
"Thank you so much!"
"I can tell you're dehydrated. You were fortunate to have come to me when you did."
I felt at ease, and began sharing the story of my journey with the shaman. He listened intently and commented as I recounted it. I even told him why I had come to Africa in the first place -- that I sought a way to win the attention of the object of my affections, who deeply desired to take a trip here, but could not on account of work.
The shaman suddenly stopped me. Then he asked me to repeat that last part of my story. I did.
Then he provided me with the best advice anyone could give to someone in love:
I highly recommend this song and this album, by the way. I have it linked on my profile page here.