Thanks for chatting.  :-)

Below is an email I wrote home in November, 2008 during my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer in South Africa.  My friend Kristy recently brought it back to my attention, and I thought I’d post it here, because it is ridiculous.  I received numerous comments and questions on this email - more than almost any other.  Most questions were regarding the reality or truth of the events that transpired.  I’ll let you be the judge.  

-JoeySee

Original send date:  November 9, 2008

“Whoops… What Month is it Again?”

Ummm… Hi.  

Seems I have been MIA for quite some time. Please, allow me to explain. 

Back in September, upon a visit to a fellow volunteers site, I was walking thru the main part of town, when all of a sudden, I noticed that all motion around me had ceased as if someone had just hit the pause button on the VCR of my life.  

I was the only thing able to move it seemed.  I looked around to see what was happening, absolutely dumbfounded at the stillness around me, when suddenly I heard loud banging noises coming from every which direction.  I had to begin running for cover because out of the sky, it started raining insects, birds and small aircraft - all their appendages ceased functioning, causing them to come crashing down everywhere!  

I ran for cover as fast as I could, but during my run, a barrage of beetles gave me a black eye and bruises down my back, a flacid ibis nearly stabbed me in the neck with it’s long sharp beak, and I narrowly avoided having my testicles cut off as I hurdled a recently fallen military style helicopter.  After being pelted by all things once airborne, I took cover under a tin roof for a few minutes until the downpour of solid objects stopped.  

I couldn’t imagine what the hell was happening all around me.  I cautiously stepped outside from the tin shack where I was hiding, and looked up to see the sky had become a crimson/fuschia colour, and there appeared to be a giant inverted whirlpool spinning menacingly directly above where I was standing.  

I looked around again to see that everything was still frozen as if encapsulated in an ancient glacier.  Cars looked parked in the middle of the streets, people were eerily motionless, and even the water from the taps was like stone.  

Even creepier than the stillness was the silence.  There was no wind, no rustling of leaves, no shuffling of feet or blowing of dust.  I could hear my heart beat.  Realizing this, I began to pay more attention to that ticker in my chest, and I heard it beating slower…. and slower……. and slower……………. as the seconds ticked on, each thump getting louder and more isolated.  I began running down the streets, doing jumping jacks, shaking my body like Shakira with Alzheimer’s - ANYTHING to try and make my heart beat faster, but alas, no matter what I did, my pulse kept slowing, and the sound of my heart beat became deafening.  

Before I knew what was happening, I looked up into the eye of the whirlpool, and felt the dizzying sensation of the Gravitron rides at side-street carnivals and the Tea Cups ride at Disney World.  

I blacked out.

When I came to, I was delirious and couldn’t move my body.  

“Ah shit.”  I thought.  “Great time to get stiff, Joey.  Did I take my pills this morning?”

SLAM!!!!!!

I nearly jumped to attention at the noise that brought me to my senses.  It was then that I realized why I couldn’t move.  I was strapped to a table in some sort of darkened room - all my limbs tied tightly to my sides, and four massive bands holding me securely to the table.  I heard a voice.

“MotheringsonofatellyouwhatI’mgonnaslapthenextfloozywombatfinniganeffinSONOFABEE!!!  Gotta move that lamp…”

The lights went on, and I practically peed myself.  I was strapped to a table that was attached to a ceiling above what looked to be an endless void beneath me.  I saw shadows and shapes moving around, but couldn’t see any faces.  

In a flash, and with a sweeping WHOOSH sound, a figure came flying out in front of my face….  And my GOD was this thing ugly.  

The creature hovering front of me seemed to have no body - only a head that resembled a pug who accidentally stuck his face into a blender on “Frappe” mode.  It also seemed to have a growth protruding from his scalp that looked like a nude Richard Nixon after an acid bath.  It was wearing a maroon cape in the style of Super Man that flapped in the breeze when it moved, but without a body to go with it.  It also had a massive booger hanging out of one nostril.  I tried not to cry.  I tried not to laugh.  I tried not to make any noises.  I failed at all three.  I laughed so hard at this thing that I started crying, and to the point where I was whooping and hollering like a stoned hyena from the Lion King.  

Unamused, the creature zapped me with an electric shock, then cut one of the bands holding me to the table.  My body jerked forward and came to an abrupt stop, as did my heart.

“Jeez - Somebody doesn’t have a sense of humour.” I thought to myself.  

Frightened, but still a little high from both laughing hysterically and probably from the drugs this thing gave me to knock me out, I tried to regain a grip on my situation.  I was trying to think of a conversation starter, but all I could think about were advertising promos for facial creams and the horrors of surgical face lifts.  My break came when my captor asked me in a whiny French/British-butler tone, 

“Do hyu knoww whayee yo heeeaaa?”  

“Umm… I don’t know… you thought I was cute?”

WHAM!!

The son of a bitch head-butted me!

“OW!!  What the hell man?”

“I’ll have none of your comedy!”  the thing snooted, as it cut another one of the bands holding me to the ceiling-table, and gave me another jolt of dangerously high-voltage therapy.    

“CRAP!!  Ah, son of a mother!  OK OK!!  Fine, so why am I here?”

The thing looked at me but didn’t answer.  A few minutes passed as it lazily hovered back and forth across my line of vision.  At this point I was getting a bit worried.  I was looking downward into an abyss of nothingness, though I was positive that whatever was down there would surely be the end of me.  

“Hello!  Nixon-head!  Why am I here?”

Another ZAP.  Another strap came loose.  My body swung forward and the only thing holding me up was the strap around my ankles.  I was hanging upside down over the black void.  The change fell out of my pockets and never made a sound because it never hit the ground.  My shirt flapped over my face, and after numerous failed attempts to tuck it into my shorts, I decided to just take it off and let it disappear into the darkness below.  I was much more comfortable that way, albeit a bit chilly.  But what was the difference?  This was the end of me for sure.  I knew it.  The creature spoke.

“‘My name is Wanda.  Wanda Jerry.  I changed my last name from Doomee after the endless days of junior high and high school.  You can only imagine how kids can be cruel to someone with a name like Wanda Doomee.  But that’s not the point.  The thing that looks like Richard Nixon that is growing out of my scalp is actually a potato chip that got lodged in my skull after a food fight incident at a local cafeteria where I was acting as substitute lunch-lady.  I am allergic to potato chips but the doctors said if they removed it, I would perish, so there it remains until today, swelling to unnatural sizes and taking on shapes of ex-Presidents.  Thankfully, Ford is next in line, and at least he was a handsome enough fellow.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I said groggily.  The blood was rushing to my head quickly.  “Why did you change your last name to Jerry?”

“Because I like Jerry Seinfeld.”

“So why didn’t you change your name to Seinfeld?”

“Because I’m not Jewish, dumbass.”

“Oh…”  I said, sheepishly.  What a stupid question, Joey.  “So… why am I here, umm… Wanda?”

“Because I think you’re cute.”

“Oh shit…”  I thought.  My mind was racing.  I figured I could reach the last strap and plunge myself into the bottomless pit below be before Wanda Jerry could have his/her way with me.  It was a much more desirable option.  I mean… this thing was UGLY.

As I began reaching for the strap, I heard a noise like a donkey braying, coupled with the sounds of lions during mating season.  It appeared as though Wanda was laughing.  

“You fool.” it snickered.  “Don’t flatter yourself.  You’re not my type.”

Bitch.  I’m handsome, damn it.  

“So why am I here Wanda?  I’m getting a little light-headed.  I think I may pass out again soon.”

“I need a favour.” It said.  “Do you have a tissue?”  

What the hell?

“Umm… let me check my pockets..?” I said, confused out of my mind.  I began going thru my pockets, emptying the contents forever into the abyss.  There went my wallet, my cell phone, my camera, my sponge balls, my pocket knife, my pen, my keys, my cash… everything was gone!  Finally, I found what appeared to feel like a napkin.  I was so glad to have found it.  That stop to Subway was a good idea after all.  (Yes, there’s one Subway in South Africa that I found)

“Ok Wanda… Here’s a tissue.  Sorry, it has some teriyaki sauce on it… umm…. oh and an old piece of gum… aaaand a phone number of a friend.  But here, take it!”

“You MORON!”  it scolded me.  “I CAN’T TAKE IT.  I HAVE NO ARMS, LEGS, HANDS OR FEET.”

“Umm…. I’m sorry?”

“It’s ok.  I just need a favour.  Please wipe this booger from my nose.”

On the verge of losing consciousness again, I made a last ditch effort and obliged my demented captor and did the messy job of wiping it’s face with a used Subway napkin, and in a flash, I woke up in a bathtub full of ice, next to Steve Buscemi, who was smoking a cigar.  

“What?  Steve Buscemi??”

“Yep!” he said.  “So!  How’s that Peace Corps thing going?”    

******

Hi again - 

I apologize for the above distraction.  That was uncalled for, a bit inane, and not even very well assembled.  My apologies.  

Still, it seems the moral of the story is that the last few months have been tough for me, and I’m not really sure what has been happening the whole time.  

This email update doesn’t contain much in the way of substance, but I at least enjoyed killing time writing it.