Who enjoy a good party? Everyone should raise their hand.
I love a good party!
But an African party is a celebration. It’s as if the heaven open and the gods pour richness of ambrosia to overflow on an African celebration. It is something in itself an amazing experience. Women in multi colored fabrics and African design clothing. Men in the lasted fashion and traditional African designs. Food and drinks overflowing at a never ending speed. Music and speeches non-stop, dancing allover and everyone socializing moving from group to group.
Thinking about going to my first African party made me worry.
First this was my first time meeting the extended family of my husband. Yes I’ve met and talked to so many of his relatives and friends. But this was the tribe. Over a hundred people that my husband grew up with in Africa.
Second I did not know what to wear to such an event. Me not having anything to wear may surprise many especially when I claim to shop every week. But … And this is true but an African event, just wearing Calvin Klein or Donna Karen means nothing when all the women are getting their outfit made by personal tailors/fashion designers. Wearing off the rack is such an American.
Third I was worried about how everyone would accept me. Yes me the woman that boldly married an African man worried about others opinion. This is different this is my husbands people. Although there are many Africans with American spouses I didn’t know them or that many people at the party.
You guys have to remember that this is the airport lifestyle and things normally go wrong.
So I worried myself to death, planning, questioning him, looking at YouTube videos. In an endless mindset that I wasn’t ready to be on show. Or compete with the African women.
So I couldn’t sleep that night and I made my husband late trying to do glam at 6 o’clock in the morning. Hey no comments I’m still a woman.
On the way there I told my husband my concerns. He looked at me as if I was crazy. He could not believe that me the woman he married was worried about fitting in. A woman that can start a conversation with anyone anywhere. A woman that had a blog that tell everything to everyone. A woman who wrote a book with a cover of a naked woman butt. Whose public profile picture is a display of my naked back with the words Sold in gold gritter. I seem alien to my husband at that moment.
Then he stated that no matter what anyone thought he married me for love. So he wasn’t concerned if someone like or dislike me. He was more concerned if people like me too much. Which in this case did happen. I enjoyed myself and made some friends, okay a lot friends.
One thing I was most fascinated about was the fact that money is showered on the guest of honor. I mean Africans made it rain literally people was just pouring dollars over the person they were celebrating. I could have gotten three pairs of Coach shoes and a boat load of Mac makeup but I really wasn’t counting. And the funny thing about it was that my husband stated and I quote “The next event you have no budget because I want you to look good.” end quote. It so happens that the next event is coming up. And already I have five outfits, three being made and two I bought. No shoes as of yet because I’m waiting to match them up. I pretty sure my husband will live to regret that statement. You guys all know I’m going to write about it so I’ll talk to you later.