Slept late. Woke up early.
The bird song was beautiful this morning. Almost got out of bed to listen to the chorus. That break of day chorus, when the sun’s rays mix with the bird song to create the magic of dawn.
According to my lover, I have been acting weird.
Inclusive of the fact that, coming home yesterday, I thought the new mosque was such a wonderful sight that I had to stop and take pictures of it in the night. They were bad. Too little time, and the fear that it was not safe enough to take photos.
It is the days of Ramadan. My Moslem friends are fasting the day hours, from the rising of the sun, till it deeps past the horizon. Then they break the fast.
An interesting thought. Do we have a hunger for religion!
Speaking wholly objectively, it seems a superfluous compliment to our intelligence as human beings. One can even argue that it is a relic of the days of ignorance. An opiate of the people, as I believe one revered philosopher termed it.
Yet, people believe.
When I say I do not believe in Uganda, it is a novelty. Like the statement that I am gay.
Once, talking to my mum, when my lover was present, I was that blunt. She was distressed. And another time, dad took a different, traditional view. Cant have my name, he said huffily, cant have my name and not not believe. Like the name he gave me when I was born is the marker of faith.
I noticed, during the non Ramadan days, the mosque is lit up. That differs a lot for the holy days of Ramadan. It is positively awash with light in the night.
Bolton says religion and mysticism flows from every pore of myself. Well, it should.
All around me are the mysteries of my people’s faith. Deep faith. It may be in the wonders of Allah, or the mysteries of Jesus, or the superstitions of the traditional religions. But my people have deep faith. To me, deeply annoying faith. Not amenable to any of my logic. So, faith, to me remains a mystery.
And of course there is the small issue of reconciling my sexuality, with the condemning faith of the book religions. It is a little known fact, but in Uganda, (apparently elsewhere too), gay sex is part of some traditional rituals.
It is a calm day outside.
Loverman is in bed. I am listening to the cock’s crow. And it is quiet. No children shouting as yet. None trekking to school, as it is still school holiday. And the trees are barely stirring, and the leaves are still. Motionless.
I think it will be a sunny day. A beautiful day.
Time I started working on the many things that have to be done.
Have a beautiful day.