Drummers, dancers, soul food, laughter, children running around with goodies in their hands, lots of African vendors for miles, loud music, and more food. Needless to say I had a good time. Man, just watching the people at the festival was amusement for me. Wild crazy hairstyles, tight and loose clothing, and everyone strutting their stuff. Vendors traveled from all over from New Jersey, New York, Maryland, Virginia, and Pennsylvania every year. They had their products from scented oils, clothing, music, sculptures, incense, pictures, and things that would interest any eye. The weather was perfect, not too hot, just warm and some wind. One thing that did bother me was that it's called "African American Festival". Is it just me or does someone else sees it? Why "American?" That's not right. It's supposed to be African Festival and that's it. Dang Delaware. I tell you. I guess they wanted to put the American part in there so we "blacks" wouldn't feel left out or something, dunno. I could go on about that, but let's leave it.
I had on this nice long colorful festive skirt with these knitted earrings that I got from New Jersey that no one has. Of course I had my signature gold bangles up my arm with gold flip flops. Everyone was digging the skirt and asking me where did I get the earrings from. You know it feels good to have the only whatever it is. My hair was like Fantasia's with the flip/mohawk in the front. I try really hard to be orginal with a funky yet classy style.
Ok, so I was there with my mom at first. We walked and walked. You know I had a ball just looking at the products. I don't even really buy anything at the festival, but I love to look and eat! Matter of fact, that's the only reason why my mom wanted to go, to buy some fried fish. The fish was bangin too (bangin Ebonics for delicious/very good). So later I caught up with my girlfriend who had a table out there as well. I sat and chilled with her and her sister. Then I made several more rounds out there. I reunited with so many people I haven't seen in years, decades! It was sort of funny because most of them were skinny back then, but when I seen them, they are now very large...I say this because I used to envy them for being slim....now I'm thankful that I'm not their size.
Anyway, this one man was trying to sell me these nice bags with the Gye Nyame symbol on there. I asked him what is that symbol called. He looked at me in a funny way and said in his heavy african accent, "you know what that says." Lol, this man called me out, lol....lol...but I wasn't testing or trying to mock him, I honestly forgot how to pronounce it, that's why I asked. So I told him I know how to spell it, but just don't know how to say it (I forgot). So.....he said it for me and I was slowly repeating after him the proper pronouncation. I later asked him where was he from. He rolled his eyes at me, not rudely, but as if he was saying to himself, "ohhh lord, here we go again, the gal wants to know what country I'm from." Lol. Anyway, he said quickly, "Baltimore." I looked at him with my lips twisted, cuz I'm thinking, "brother, you know what I mean." So I said, "ok, ok, B'more that's cool, but what country are you from?" The man didn't want to answer me. So I started guessing....I said, "umm, you not nigerian (Nigerians carry themselves a certain way and he didn't carry himself that way), uhhh, are you ghanaian?" He said, "heck noo," I started laughing. Then I proceeded the game...."uhhh, uhh, umm, duhhh," he finally said, "Kenya". I'm thinking "ohhhhh, ok." I know my fellow africans get tired of people like me asking 50 million question especially the famous "where are you from?" question. It's all in love, and a good conversation piece as well people. Ok so this man starts telling me, he needs to work and bring in this money so he can afford me. I was laughing. He said (in his african accent), "seriously, you want to drive Mercedes, wear nice fancy clothes...I want to afford you and you are worth a lot...." Then he goes on to say, "you are worth like 45 cattle" WHAT!?!? I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Is he for real? I know I joke a lot, but he got me on that one. He said it with a straight face too, and calculating out loud of my worth saying, "not many men or it would take a lot to......he was mummbling. Honestly, I felt a lil insulted. 45 cattle, that's it?! Not even 50? Really I'm thinking at least 250, I have a degree, lol!!! I don't know how much 1 cattle is worth, whatever though. We had a nice mini conversation. He was just flirting with his short pot belly self....bless his heart.
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The only bad thing was that there were not one, not two, nor three, but 4 fights that broke out. It was terrible and embarrassing. Why can't we just all get along? They were kids too...little high school kids acting grown. Cops had to come out and arrest them. It was stupid.
But needless to say, that didn't stop the show, but I was ready to leave. I hate fights. I get this nasty weird feeling in my stomach when the are about to breakout. It ruins the mood.
You know, life is short. Enjoy the little things. Don't wait for something BIG to happen, just live and don't take the little things for granted. You can breath, walk and eat on your own. Let's thank God for that. We don't need a tube in our neck, or a machine to keep us alive. Stop complaining over the big and little things and let's be appreciative for everything. So what if you can't take that vacation...set up the backyard, or go to the beach. Smile! It's all good.
