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The conga is a dance dating back centuries. It involves putting your hands on the shoulders of the person in front of you and performing a simple step routine, which is constantly repeated.
An Aboriginal tribe I met up with on my travels in the Australian outback, however, sees a lot more to this dance that a drunken;
“Hey, y’know what’d be a good idea, let’s do a conga!”
This tribe, called the ‘Analoogu’ tribe believe that feeling particularly strongly for or against the conga causes death, and therefore all deaths are due to a strong opinion of the conga. For example, if someone suddenly felt that the conga was a great thing, they would drop down dead. Or, alternatively, if someone felt that the conga was stupid, they would also drop dead.
A tribal spokesman with a rabbit in his nose told me
“Gaga a gaga olio oloo alibi abaca…alobi abaca” which roughly translates as
“We still have heaven and hell, but not as you in the western world see it. We believe that heaven is a long conga line that never stops and those in it carry on forever, and we believe that hell is… a long conga line that never stops and those in it must carry on forever.”
This is the last quote I managed to get from the spokesman as I dropped my pencil in a vat of tribal jelly, causing tribal members to eat around it.
I asked him why heaven was such a benefit over hell an he told me how in heaven it was wonderful because all of the people wanted to be there, whereas in hell, everyone was miserable because no one wanted to be there.
He went on to tell me that sometimes, in heaven, God would look in and say ‘Hi’. Apparently however, God doesn’t join in as he is a small tortoise and fears being trodden on.
I asked what happens when people get bored and the spokesman told me that people who dislike the conga are sent to hell, alive or dead. If someone in heaven dislikes the conga, they are sent to hell on a green ship full of Japanese tourists with no cameras and just one elephant to share equally between them. Everyone on the ship is allowed one meal of his or her choice, but must first look into a haystack and find the second elephant, thus bringing the group closer together. Once they have found the elephant they must discuss their choice of meal with it. This is unfortunate as the elephant often changes their minds so that they choose peanuts against their will.
When I asked if anyone could ever get back to heaven from hell, the tribal spokesman put down his copy of the Daily Mail and said that I was asking too many questions and before I could cry for help he had eaten my shoes. I ran as fast as I could, pursued by the tribesman, one shoelace in his mouth like a piece of spaghetti. I finally reached the coast and my rubber dingy. Using two scrapbooks and an old plastic whistle I paddled to New Zealand where there was a party on the beach. Many people were doing the conga but I took note of what the tribesman had said and made sure I thought about the conga as little as I could so as not to form an opinion. I was not sure if the conga theory was true but I was not going to take any chances.
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