AK’s and Alcohol | Explorer

Check, check. Here we are. We have arrived, and, uh, waiting for the commander. Just in time! It's, uh, just turning out, which isn't exactly ideal. The air is thick with ganja smoke. I'm 3 hours walk from the nearest town, and I'm completely at their mercy.

So, uh, I find myself in North Kuu, on the border of Barunga National Park, in a Mii village, waiting for the commander of the forces here. A couple of guys in the corner here, of them, are going to be older than 20 years old, AKs by their side, having a drink. It is probably the most surreal Friday night I've ever had in my life.

Waragi, made of distilled banana leaves, was originally called warin. It’s cheap, available, but sometimes fatal when homemade. The alcohol has been blamed for blindness and death. "I have to give to you." "You have to give to me." "Yeah, yeah, nice." "How do I say thank you?" "Asante, Asante, Asante."

That's [Music]. It's been about 2 hours since I got here. No one's really let on what's happening. As far as I know, I'm still waiting for the [Music] commander. Finally, I made my way onto another hut, but still no commander. The second in command, through stoned and glassy eyes, invites me to a meal of aali, basically mashed cassava and lake fish.

"There fish here?" "Yeah, I tried that because of the fish." Now, whether it's God's to give or not, the government policy in Lake Edward, plagued by decades of overfishing, now dictates that people follow rules such as not fishing in the shallow waters where fish breed. The Mii clearly resent Demar Ro's oversight.

I'm just going to keep on coming up. I'm pretty buzzed for sure on the waragi, but I don't think it's a good idea to sleep with 20 stoned adolescents with AK-47s roaming about. Hopefully, tomorrow I can get an interview with the commander and get out of Dodge.