Sunday, February 15, 2009

Ripping Rainbows and Shoving Sky 12/26/08

Dear Ms. Dunham,

I will have been in Ghana for 53 days when I return to New York on Monday, December 29, 2008. 50 days today.

Africa took my breath away and gave it back to me in 10 million pieces. One for each African at the bottom of the sea and 5 more for every time crabs pull each other down in the barrel. It IS hard to yell when the barrel is in your mouth. I'm not sure when I'll catch it again, my breath. It's running so fast these days. Nature slows it down. But I feel like that's moving faster too.

Ms. Dunham ... I've seen it from the other side ... from pretty words that fly like birds to lessons learned that hurt me. The brown dog was guarding the gate last night. He let me into the yard, but when I tried to return to the house from the toilet/bath house he didn't recognize me. At 3:00 a.m. in Ghana, his job is to guard the house. I went to bathroom at 2:58. Every time I tried to return to my room, he would bark and prepare for attack. Kelly saved me from him in a dream once. I sat on the lid of the toilet for two hours until he fell asleep. The rooster yelled twelve times. The Muslims called me to prayer. It was a serious meditation. To my credit, I tested the waters several times before I submitted to the process. I just hella loc'd up like "What Fool! Frisco!". He chased me right back up in the toilet. Lol, I crushed the cardboard in the toilet paper roll, thru it out the door to see if he would fall back. Nope. At about 5:00 a.m. he just chilled out. It was comedy for like 20 minutes ... then yeah ... I made a cup of water to throw just in case he woke up. Slithered back up into the room. Osun won the war with song and dance. Not in front of the dog or the gate tho'. I had to bend and squeeze myself around the the house to get back in ... to return.

PhotobucketOn the shores of the Cape Coast. (Ghana, 2008)

This has been the tale of my Sankofa. The story of understanding patience before the pass. Dr. Halifu says, " A tiger doesn't have to tell you it has stripes." Alicia taught me not to throw my pearls to swine and that everywhere the African steps he/she sees God." Wisdom washed and passed down in the lineage of your legacy. You have done amazing work. I wish we could've hung out. My birthday is on the 22nd too. A month after yours. Asia, one of the sistas that came with me to Cape Coast was born on the same day as you. And I was born in Chicago, Illinois. I know you did a lot of work there. (in Illinois).

Dear Ms. Dunham ... I went to Africa. I ripped rainbows and shoved sky.

Near misses. White dust on the faces of children playing in baby powder. The ancestors speak in everything. And everything is so close. The flash of my spirit is a lighthouse learning to live inside the Veve. Sequins hold the magic of mirrors and I am repelling warfare by speaking to the wind ... and waiting, and weighting, and waiting. Sometimes I wonder if this makes sense to anyone else but me. One of the uncles said the dog didn't recognize me because I was carrying a bad spirit. That's what he was barking at. When it left he let me pass. Nothing happens before it's supposed to. I don't know why that's so hard for me to remember.

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