Human Traffic III

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I have been asked to do a joint performance together with an Ugandan dance group. They have given me a topic. This text and those who follow are different attempts to tackle the challenge. The performance wil be Thursday 23rd of March in Fusion Autospa in Munyonyo. 

 I am sitting in a bar in Copenhagen. with my colleagues from Uganda. We are here for a conference. There is a group of guys next to us. They smile. We exchange phrases. We are comfortable in each others company, becasuse we resemble in color. One of them moves closer to me and ask me almost whispering as if he is telling me a secret: "How can I help you?" Help me? I am confused. He wants to help me! Do I look like I need help? I am almost about to ask him for a drink to respoind to his offer and be polite, but he does not look like someone buying driinks to a strangers. "Yes, how can I help you to stay here?" But I am not going to staying here. I am going back to Uganda tomorrow. He stares at me. "Do you really want to go back to that silly place?" Yes, I have a job - a wife - house and children in Kampala. His eyes are full of anger and doubtfully he shakes his head and walks away while shouting: "You are a stupid man". But I am not. I am a man making a living, taking care of my family, and right now I am in another country doing my job, so I can take care of my family. Just an ordinary guy doing what everyone else is doing.

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