I've always wondered why they call it GIN!

I was down on the Lurio River with a few friends surf fishing and camping our way back to Pemba along the coast while doing a bit of a recce locating future camping sites for fishing safaris when we came across an old boy with a pasteboard box full of Rhino Gin Pints. He was a dominating character all decked out for his daily advance on the fishing fleet at the mouth of the river. He wore a frazzled navy blue turtleneck sweater with the neck stretched beyond it's limit to his breasts to reveal a black T-Shirt printed with a silver Che Guevara silhouette peering over the edge of some sort of stripped fabric used in the form of a scarf. Keep in mind that it was 90 in the shade as all this was worn under a very soiled especially around the pockets, grey London Fog trench coat complete with a pair of thread bare red Gucci knock off jeans that were decidedly to large for his waste but too short for his long legs being held up with a length of palm leaf split and tied in a square knot at his side. All this topped with a "too dirty to recognize the color," toboggan pulled down over his eyebrows. The Rhino Gin, a born and bred product of Mozambique beckoned to us and we purchased a few bottles and along with a few bottles of Portuguese wine a sore night ensued for some of our party. A good supper and a few highballs gave us the incentive to surf fish on late into the night and about 1 am those of us that were still fishing were attracted to a bonfire a few miles down the beach near the site of the fishing village. We unloaded the four wheeler off the Unimog and drove down to join the jubilance. Our Man of Gin was holding court and selling his wares to the sounds of mombo music from a station out of Zanzibar except, all the gin had been consumed by customers and the plastic bottles had been recycled by the Gin Man himself being refilled with the Mozambican variety of a primitive moonshine made from fermented mangos or cashew nuts or a variety of other things I'd rather not mention. After giving numerous rides to the revelers on the four wheeler we retired for the evening and later I awoke surprised to find the Gin Man seated by our fire in the predawn light. After casual small talk my Portuguese being foggy, he finally in a sheepish way let me know that he would like the Rhino Gin Bottles back. I confirmed in Portuguese that it was No Problem and he promptly rounded up the empties and was on his way. Let it be said that as far as Mozambique goes you will never see a Rhino Gin Bottle on the side of the road. I'm sure you all are wondering about how a Gin distilled in Mozambique compares to other varieties. Well let me just say this. How proud are you of your product when you bottle it in plastic and I mean cheap plastic then you come up with such a cheap looking logo using cheap primary colors with a cheap scew on cap that if you tighten too much it becomes useless? It tastes, well it tastes "Vulgar" so I painted it a bit Vulgar, hope you enjoy! AP