SaveMe’s holidays part one.
As it became so important to show the real artist face behind the prim-gluer or virtual tourist guide we saw recently the real face of a, for example, Quan Lavender or Penelope Parx to find out we are dealing here with ladies in their seventies searching for recognition before it is too late. To not stay behind I also made it public I am the Canadian performance artist Chun Hua Catherine Dong and I travel around the globe to perform everywhere. First I hesitate a little to let my real life become part of my virtual life but now I decide not longer to hold back.
Often I am asked why I leave the poor avatars in Secondlife for long periods alone as they so much depend on me to enlighten their sad and boring virtual lives. It is because my real life adventures take time too. By sharing these real life adventures now I hope I will create some understanding by the demanding virtual crowds who want to be entertained and kept busy by me all the time.
Some years ago I was preparing to go swimming with whalesharks in Tofo, Mozambique when I realised that my big bush might be preventing a clear sight on the animal. So I went to the local unisex hairdresser and asked for a Brazilian wax but when I came out I had my dreadlocks erected instead. Soon after, as with everything I do, it became the fashion highlight of the year in Mozambique. Unfortunately it was forbidden some months later after the Frelimo party want to show her ecological face in concern of the local environment. At once my popular hairdo was assumed to frighten off the whalesharks who could mistaken me and my Mozambique fashionistas friends for sea-urchins, the worsted nightmare of a feeding whaleshark.
Another curious holiday adventure occurred when I was trying to buy a sheep in butcher shop Khalf Abdulla Swaid Al-Busaidi in Nizwa, Oman. As my husband of that time had a hospital fetish he forced me to wear a nurse outfit all day long but the butcher in Nizwa was not amused at all how I appeared in front of him. I should wear at least a veil, he told me, before he and all the other men in the shop left. As they don’t want to in the same space with me to be offended in their own country.
I had no other option than to grab a knife myself and slice the throat of a sheep or my former husband and I would not have been able to enjoy a nice kebab at night before I checked his blood pressure and took his temperature.