diary of an expat

called me a white devil

Dear Sister,

Remember how Richard Chamberlain made us all want to convert to catholicism so we could fuck hot priests?

Things are a little different here.

We traveled to a remote part of Kenya that is serviced by a catholic mission, a priest and a few nuns. Mostly to take pictures so it looks like we are doing something worthwhile.

The priest, maybe around 35, glasses, solid build, massive shoulders, kept looking at me. Held my hand for a long time when we were introduced. Scratched the middle of my palm.

I know what that signal means.

Offered to give me a personal tour of the mission space after lunch. Ended up in a store with sacks of maize. Concrete floor. Corrugated iron roof. Flimsy door.

Kept reciting hail mary as he fucked me. Was he good? Not at all.

Sometimes, it’s the joy of the taboo that gives pleasure.

After, he called me a white devil and refused to look at me.

Sent me a text message later asking when next I’ll be in the region.

Your Sister

ps: Some very sweet priests in training from the nearby seminary have taken to dropping by to ask if I need anything, anything at all. I may be indiscriminate, but I have a few rules, and one is that I will not sleep with anyone under 25. And the second is that I will not have a parade of men moving through my house, asking for tea and snacks, wanting to use my shower. I need my space to be my space.