Oh, for goodness sake, here comes this retard talking about death in January! I shall not die but live to testify of the goodness of the Lord!
It must be the harmattan. I hope that day is a thousand years away, when you are full of years, wizened and lost all appetite to curse me. My base on the trip was Houston. But I was sidetracked by a few Naija owambes.
On one instance, we drove four hours to Dallas to attend a wedding. Truth be told, it was nice to eat some Naija food after weeks of oyinbo food.
But photography-wise none of those three cities were particularly interesting to me. About cuisine that is a melting pot of French, African, Spanish and American culture? Vibrant live music, carnivals and costumed parades? Touristy cemeteries and slave plantations? You had to ask that question? New Orleans was the highlight of my trip to the US. I had a homeboy who worked in the city. We both thought it was a good idea for me to visit since I had never been to the Deep South.
I ended up going by bus. I had botched my outbound flight. Somehow, I forgot to book the ticket. Seven hours the journey would take. I could live with that. I consoled myself that I would see more of the country. I would fly back to Houston. See, the eminent state of Louisiana is bordered on the east by the state of Mississippi.
