dell'Erotika Hotel A love story - written by Compagnidiviaggio
To help forget the time in its function as well as adventurous spirit and leave behind a love that I chose to come over now to pursue my medical degree here in Uganda. After the plane landed at the airport of U. that was the dawn (if not before) and still sleepy wandering in a city silent (or almost) and without dreams with the desire to start a new life, I am going to take the bus rather it would be better to go and call him Coach G. which has the mission Don M. where I expect to begin my experience as a medical auxiliary. I watch while waiting for the arrival of a means to get to my destination. The local people and their customs, but above all their patience in waiting and / or to remain calm when you see half-full to capacity with wonder camionali coaches and taxis and many offices and very few bicycles private cars. Finally comes my bus, the journey is long seen the bad road conditions (if I may call it so) due to years of wars, the struggle for colonial independence first, and then civil war between various factions of the front of liberation and to flooding.
I sleep, but is attracted by the landscapes and local business people and their optimism, by the sound of their language and their smiles to see a foreign person of a different color and stay awake. At one stop, one of the many rooms of this black girl looking for 26-28 years with the features that make it look like a Western. He sits in front of me because it is the only place free of the medium. Provo, tired of long hours of silence, to overcome my shyness and fear of making gaffe in local insegnatomi say those few words from my friend K. Mozambican immigrant, and I start to talk. Exhausted the few words of local language, try to speak in Esperanto and then in English. Her with a sensual smile: "I also know English." Then we talk and talk for two hours. She tells me of his country and his family and the few memories that the family had "original" or nearly exterminated by the civil war, and the orphanage of the missionaries, is that adopted when he was 16-17 years and his work as a waitress at the Hotel Erotika.
Our eyes met several times, mostly all I do is fix the antelope from his body. At one point, tired and jet-lang made a 4-5 hour trip and fall asleep because I have 5-7 more to be done. At one stop she wakes me, me, groggy with sleep, I think I have arrived, thank you. And she featured so passionate, seductive, lascivious, licentious, "It 's my stop." Then I follow. After taking a taxi, we arrived at the hotel located on the hill of the city, in the old colonial district, near the border between it (the area became infamous with the buildings, now rubble and ruins, damaged by the bombing of the various wars) former colonial and the modern. Viewed from the foot of the hill to the bus stop seems to place a building much more than you might think very least, as it was during the regime of former dictator and his henchmen before he was taken by the resistance the meeting point where the henchmen of Count exchange stolen goods and a thousand other shady dealings, as well as being (a feature still maintained even though in a more sober and discreet) meeting place for lovers, more or less sordid. In fact, when she told the taxi driver our target a passenger said something, and everyone, including her, laughed. Soon after she translated: "Here you can toast each other and with broken hearts: there will drink with shatterproof glasses." I laughed too because it was a phrase taken from Moby Dick, one of the favorite books of my adolescence. Once you arrive at your destination but I realize that I had taken the appearance of deception, as it is one of the few if not the only building left whole after decades of wars, the only witness to the turbulent past are the signs of shots on the wall. In fact, as I told E. are due not to a battle, but a shooting by supporters of militia members scheme since this hotel was always spared during the fighting as both men of colonial rule, first, both men of the opposing factions, they considered their stronghold operativa.Entrammo-base and after crossing a great waiting room in colonial style, and a long corridor we came to the staff room and spent the notte.Quella there was an intense night of passion. At dawn I left with regret, because I gave the word to Don M. , My spiritual father as a child and then because it was my job as a doctor and. This place that I had initially considered very least, depressing and now as magical as the night passed with E. was one (if not the only one) of my life. I arrived after a troubled trip because of bad roads lowered and torn soul for abandoning E. The night in G. The next day I started working, thinking that this, together with the time I would help close the wound, but it did not, because I thought always to you I had always promised to visit her and bring her here with us, or if it was not possible to abandon my post and send everything to the dogs. When I learned on the radio that a taxi camionale jumped on a mine (one of the legacies of decades of war) just working in the area where E.
My concerns were confirmed by a letter containing some of his belongings, including his photos, sent to me by E. who worked at the reception dell'Erotika Hotel. Since then something has died in me.
To help forget the time in its function as well as adventurous spirit and leave behind a love that I chose to come over now to pursue my medical degree here in Uganda. After the plane landed at the airport of U. that was the dawn (if not before) and still sleepy wandering in a city silent (or almost) and without dreams with the desire to start a new life, I am going to take the bus rather it would be better to go and call him Coach G. which has the mission Don M. where I expect to begin my experience as a medical auxiliary. I watch while waiting for the arrival of a means to get to my destination. The local people and their customs, but above all their patience in waiting and / or to remain calm when you see half-full to capacity with wonder camionali coaches and taxis and many offices and very few bicycles private cars. Finally comes my bus, the journey is long seen the bad road conditions (if I may call it so) due to years of wars, the struggle for colonial independence first, and then civil war between various factions of the front of liberation and to flooding.
I sleep, but is attracted by the landscapes and local business people and their optimism, by the sound of their language and their smiles to see a foreign person of a different color and stay awake. At one stop, one of the many rooms of this black girl looking for 26-28 years with the features that make it look like a Western. He sits in front of me because it is the only place free of the medium. Provo, tired of long hours of silence, to overcome my shyness and fear of making gaffe in local insegnatomi say those few words from my friend K. Mozambican immigrant, and I start to talk. Exhausted the few words of local language, try to speak in Esperanto and then in English. Her with a sensual smile: "I also know English." Then we talk and talk for two hours. She tells me of his country and his family and the few memories that the family had "original" or nearly exterminated by the civil war, and the orphanage of the missionaries, is that adopted when he was 16-17 years and his work as a waitress at the Hotel Erotika.
Our eyes met several times, mostly all I do is fix the antelope from his body. At one point, tired and jet-lang made a 4-5 hour trip and fall asleep because I have 5-7 more to be done. At one stop she wakes me, me, groggy with sleep, I think I have arrived, thank you. And she featured so passionate, seductive, lascivious, licentious, "It 's my stop." Then I follow. After taking a taxi, we arrived at the hotel located on the hill of the city, in the old colonial district, near the border between it (the area became infamous with the buildings, now rubble and ruins, damaged by the bombing of the various wars) former colonial and the modern. Viewed from the foot of the hill to the bus stop seems to place a building much more than you might think very least, as it was during the regime of former dictator and his henchmen before he was taken by the resistance the meeting point where the henchmen of Count exchange stolen goods and a thousand other shady dealings, as well as being (a feature still maintained even though in a more sober and discreet) meeting place for lovers, more or less sordid. In fact, when she told the taxi driver our target a passenger said something, and everyone, including her, laughed. Soon after she translated: "Here you can toast each other and with broken hearts: there will drink with shatterproof glasses." I laughed too because it was a phrase taken from Moby Dick, one of the favorite books of my adolescence. Once you arrive at your destination but I realize that I had taken the appearance of deception, as it is one of the few if not the only building left whole after decades of wars, the only witness to the turbulent past are the signs of shots on the wall. In fact, as I told E. are due not to a battle, but a shooting by supporters of militia members scheme since this hotel was always spared during the fighting as both men of colonial rule, first, both men of the opposing factions, they considered their stronghold operativa.Entrammo-base and after crossing a great waiting room in colonial style, and a long corridor we came to the staff room and spent the notte.Quella there was an intense night of passion. At dawn I left with regret, because I gave the word to Don M. , My spiritual father as a child and then because it was my job as a doctor and. This place that I had initially considered very least, depressing and now as magical as the night passed with E. was one (if not the only one) of my life. I arrived after a troubled trip because of bad roads lowered and torn soul for abandoning E. The night in G. The next day I started working, thinking that this, together with the time I would help close the wound, but it did not, because I thought always to you I had always promised to visit her and bring her here with us, or if it was not possible to abandon my post and send everything to the dogs. When I learned on the radio that a taxi camionale jumped on a mine (one of the legacies of decades of war) just working in the area where E.
My concerns were confirmed by a letter containing some of his belongings, including his photos, sent to me by E. who worked at the reception dell'Erotika Hotel. Since then something has died in me.
Background Music: Air from the beginning and end of J. Sebastian Bach
As I write this post in the background of internet radio you can hear the first words of DESPERATE EROTIC STOMP Lucio Dalla
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