Take up the White Man's burden

We were late to arrive because we had to stop by the All-American Store to pick up the pink and blue balloons. Heading south on the coastal highway, I opened my blue folder and shared the poems I had printed with Lea and Anna: "Ozymandias" by Shelley, "Kubla Khan: Or, Vision in a Dream. A Fragment." by Coleridge, and last but certainly not least "The White Man's Burden" by Kipling. The image of Sir C. Donald Gaston Hammami-Disraeli III was stamped on the top right corner of every sheet. Underneath: "Courtesy Sir C. Donald Gaston Hammami Disraeli III."

I was a charming agent of empire, a colonizer. And I wanted the polity to vote for colonization.

We reviewed the sequence of events: Wife and I stand from afar, observing the natives and waving wildly at them upon arrival. Lady Hester would roam among the peoples and study their mating habits and ancient customs. Wife and I would descend upon the indigenous inhabitants.

Greet the natives (they are all Ahmad or Fatima).
Wife never speaks. Ever.
Remember and recognize all of them as if from a forgotten dream.
Fetishize and exoticize them.
Poetry recitation and instruction.
Granting of balloons to successful poetry recitations.
Lady Hester gives tour of native society.
Every object is an artifact, a specimen.
Marvel at skin, hair, voice, clothes, social configurations, gestural vocabulary.
Use magnifying glass when necessary.
Ballroom dancing and instruction.
Lady Hester and Sir C. Donald Gaston Hammami-Disraeli III kiss.
Wife screams, laceratingly, for at least 5 seconds.
She does not move.
Change into burka for speeches.
Towards very end of speech, Wife pops last balloon in hand (killing me).
Crawl to Lady Hester, collapsing at her feet.
...
O children of Lebanon, what serendipity! What fortune!
Radiant and glorious, the sun penetrates your crescent sky!
How marvelous! Dreams once chimeric, today real as flesh!
Les deux extrémités du globe se rapprochent; en se rapprochant, elle se reconnaissent; en se reconnaissant, tous les hommes éprouvent le tressaillement joyeux de leur mutuelle fraternité!
O Orient!
Rapprochez! Regardez! Reconnaissez! Saluez!
Étreignez-moi!
...
It felt so good to be on the stage, like a stale tree's roots finally reaching water.

When we were suffusing the minds of the natives with the truth of Imperialist poetry, some audience members delighted in the satire and orated with ironic passion stanzas from the poems. At one point, an Ahmad and a Fatima paired up and recited "Ozymandias" for me, Wife, and another Fatima. Desperately sincere, I thanked them and urged them to keep the poems and share them with their people. Wife smiled and nodded.