The Palace Please

Yes it rolled out of my mouth as I entered the taxi. The driver seemed to love hearing it. I loved saying it.
Off we went. After a 15 minute drive through the worlds worst slum or was it the through Burkina Faso's finest neighborhoods? I couldn't tell. As we came up to the gate the guards were dressed in a pompous and silly costumes that would have brought loads of laughs except for their AK-47's cradled in their multi-color peacock like uniforms. As a white man there is always an element of deference in Africa. So all I said at the gate is "the President is expecting me". They saluted and I went in. A functionary was there to meet me and showed me inside to a changing room where I can put on the local dress I bought last night at the night bazaar, more like the night bizarre as there was nothing for sale except some grain bags that said " a gift of the people of the United States of America". The outfit I bought was reccomended as perfect for a palace reception. It was 6 different colors, all bad. Happily there is NO picture. So I entered the grand reception hall looking like Enrico Caruso doing Pagliacci. After 20 minutes sweating and waiting, in strolled the man himself. He was in Armani it seemed. I felt ridiculous. After 10 minutes of small talk about Boston, where his kids go to school, Harvard of course, he asked me about my plans. I rattled on nervously about my great plans for the land and its coltan removal (a metal used in cell phones and found only in Africa) followed by a mixed development of offices and storefronts and I hope anchored by Burkina Faso's first Starbucks. He seemed impressed and I felt that this man was on MY side. I hoped the meeting would end soon before I said the wrong thing....as usual.
I was on my way out of the palace feeling giddy and confused as to what just happened, when a man approached me and said " the President is very impressed with you and would like to suggest that you consider investing in a private project of the Presidents which details will be forthcoming". I left the palace to find my taxi driver still waiting and he beemingly opened the door for me. I returned to my hotel and am writing this before considering my dinner options. The choices being bad, worse or really bad. I think I'll choose the really bad.