‘silly boy’ I wrote in my diary, trying not let the secretary see the angst in my head, ‘did you really think it would be that easy?’

apparently, I did.

or there’d be no angst.

I’m sitting in the ground floor of a large 4-story building. there is sunshine coming in, but it’s making it hard to see the computer screen. it’s only twelve-thirty, but I’m on my 4th cigarette. I’m nervous. and nowhere in my handy little backpack is that usual ‘at least it’ll make good book fodder!’ that I’ve become accustomed to reaching for.

what was a creative and promising meeting on Friday, me telling them to feed and house me in exchange for free films, films they had previously paid top-dollar for, and films I saw – films that weren’t good. so here’s a guy willing to give them 5, 5! free ones. what’s not to like? people with titles were brought in and we brainstormed some more – could I film this? yes! did I need a sound studio? no! and my price is free? absolutely. that’s why I’m here.

it was a Friday and that sucked, as nothing kills a creative buzz like two days rest, but still I waited, paid a little more for a hotel room with a window, ’cause shit was working out. brother, I had all sorts of ideas – a book about me doing this all the way down, a website that could put other people in touch with NGO’s to film for free – oh! the things that could be done with this.

and then, within 3 minutes of walking in the office that so recently perspired of opportunity.

‘you must have permits from the gov’t to film’.

‘there is an upcoming election, it could be dangerous’.

‘we are worried.’

poop.

‘we will need some time, some days to discuss this’.

to which I finally spoke up: ‘I don’t have any time. I can’t afford to wait.’

and so, I found myself selling what I could do, how it could be done, hell, I wanted to help, so if it was any sort of volunteering, I’d do it.

there is nothing more humbling than trying to talk someone into you.

and so, I was sent to print off a quick bio, which I did. a few people stopped by my little waiting couch and asked if I was willing to _______. I left it blank because my answer was the same for each.

there’s a lot going against this idea, this entire idea of Africa, I’m coming to realize. there’s a lot that could have, probably should have been done prior.

but I don’t plan well.

I show up well.

and now, I sit in this scary seat, not thinking about what to do if they come back and say ‘no’ - although I should. see, that’s a certain type of planning and we can see how that goes.

I’m just gonna sit here.

with my two bags.

and maybe have another cigarette.

update

‘helping out is hard’  the lady at Oxfam sighed, the first person I spoke to after my large first day.

I hadn’t forgotten about that, but in a whirlwind that only showing up in East Africa on a whim can provide, it got lost to larger emotions and things remembered.

my meeting began with his hands pressed in front of him like a prayer – he had made numerous calls and done everything he could ‘I know the cost of making these films and I know how much you could help us - all of us.

‘but there is no way to even volunteer without a permit.’

so, as all good travel dramas go, this NGO and the 300+ it represents, my idea and calling I’ve had ever since first hearing my Aunt tell me about Ethiopia at age 6, the larger project this could be, everything…

will depend on the mood, not state regulations, of whoever calls me from the line tomorrow at the ministry of labor – that word ‘ministry’ always making me think of an Orwell backdrop.

the mood.

‘you know’ my friend here said, ‘I will talk to someone different before having a coffee, than I will after’. this was his answer to my question about the success rate of being granted a permit to film.

the mood – it all comes down to the mood.

his mood.

or her mood.

all that stands between this being somethin’ good.

or me taking a cab straight to the u.s. embassy…

‘funny story, guys.’