In 1993 I spent a few months living and studying in Zimbabwe. It was an amazing experience. I have a lot of unforgettable memories from that time in my life. This is one of them.

I was with my instructor, Julialynne. We were staying at her friend’s home. I don’t remember why we were on a trip without any of the other students from the program. It was an uncomfortable situation for me, because my Shona was terrible–most of the conversation went over my head. The hut was roach infested. The roaches weren’t afraid of us. They’d crawl across your lap without a second thought. “Just ignore them,” Julialynne said when she caught me trying to brush one away. “You don’t want to embarrass our hostess.” I was just hoping I hadn’t accidentally eaten one mixed in with my sadza (maze mush) and pumpkin greens.

We were sitting on a bare foam mat on the floor when our hostess came in with a small cassette player. She stuck in a tape and pressed play. “Do you know who this is?” Julialynne asked me. She assumed that someone of my generation wouldn’t recognize Hendrix. I didn’t want to let her down so I lied and told her that I had no idea who it was. “This is Hendrix, Jimi Hendrix!” she exclaimed. Then she said something to our hostess in Shona. They stood up and started dancing. I joined in. It was the best way to keep the roaches from crawling on me. We were three women dancing to Jimi Hendrix songs by candle light in the middle of the Zimbabwean wilderness.

If Jimi Hendrix were still alive he would’ve turned 65 yesterday.