Lingam Coffee




Lingam Coffee


Sunday morning at the Airport in Cape Town, going back to Jo’burg.

I’m carrying the container with my new Yoni and Lingam, get to the security check. It goes through the scanner and they stop the conveyor belt.

It is so clear, the Lingam, unmistakable in its glory. It’s not a small piece either.

The women, and man who is there, are all looking. At it, at me, at it, at me, at it.

There’s a moment of incredulity, uncertainty, what to do.

I’m watching.

I’ve seen this before, when I’ve traveled with a bag of dildos for a workshop.

It’s not illegal, just so far out of the norm.

And to many, so strange.

After another look, a giggle, a shake of the head in a very South African way, the belt starts up again and off we go on the way home, me, my Yoni, my Lingam, both of them, my heart full with the deep sharing, learning, connecting of the past week.