missionary imposition
it surprises and saddens me, the number of people who have access to travel and can’t or won’t get into the spirit of it. i suppose i can understand a degree of timidity when it comes to bombs bursting or intestinal invasion. but the folks who leave home and look first and foremost for the comforts of home confuse me.
had i the resources i would wander the globe and gladly immerse myself in a variety of cultures and customs. missionaries, bringing salvation and smallpox, also instilled a poisonous sense of shame in indigenous peoples who may have just been pleased as punch to dance around naked ( not to be confused with nekkid, which they were sure to be a-plenty ) and consume human flesh.
i’d like to think of myself as a reverse-missionary…making my way through foreign regions, among people who look, think, and act unlike those i’m used to. after all, if i cross oceans and get picked over by frustrated customs officials i bloody well don’t expect my own back yard! in fact i like the idea of not admitting where i’m from just in case the natives have accidentally caught an episode of ‘the high-heeled, miniskirted nanny’ or ‘who wants to marry my gerbil?’ or any damn primetime network television.
can’t you just see me? all painted and half-naked, shaking a gourd? should the locals hold attractions of all sorts i might just practice some nekkidness too!
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