Watoto Waimba

There was an announcement in the church bulletin.  The Watoto Children’s Choir was coming to Milwaukee.  I didn’t know anything about it but could tell by the “Watoto” part that it had something to do with East Africa, so I decided to go.  There were a lot of people from church there.

Friday night, the choir performed at Central United Methodist Church in Milwaukee, across the street from a Slayer concert at the Rave.  The choir consists of children and adults from a program in Uganda called Watoto that helps raise orphans.  Not a great name by trademark standards as it’s rather descriptive, but it seems like a program that’s been highly successful.  It also struck me as a very strange juxtaposition to have a band called Slayer performing next to a group of Ugandan orphans.

The group consisted of a little over 30 performers, children and adults.  The children mostly ranged from 8 to 10 years old.  The music was beautiful, a mix of traditional and modern East African music sung in English and Swahili – it’s possible some of it was also  in Luganda but I don’t know Luganda well enough to pick it out of a crowd.  (I could pick out some of the Swahili.)  The costumes were quite fun too, also representing a mix of traditional and modern.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous as we began to learn a bit about the Watoto program.  Two things particularly gave me that pay-attention-here warning.  First, it became clear that the tour was part of a fundraising gig.  Second, the organization was founded by muzungus.  Now, there’s nothing wrong either of these things in and of themselves – however, there is along history of muzungus with White Saviour complexes coming into Africa – or even from outside of Africa – doing fundraiser events to try to save the poor, backwards, dark, starving, etc. continent from itself.  I’m not a fan of these things (see my 2010 rant here).

Watoto impressed me.  For most of the program, the presentation felt genuine.  These were Ugandan children and adults talking about their experiences and what being a Watoto child had done for them.  There was a donation aspect and also plenty of good for sale in the lobby, but both were, for the most, were presented in terms of “help us continue this great work.”

There was one big exception and one little exception.  The video that was shown had the big exception.  It was going along with showing Watoto programs and students – and showing some really neat things like trade school classes – and then the founders came on.  Suddenly, it seemed like an ASPCA advert.  All pity and “save these poor creatures who cannot help themselves” mood.  Bummer.  At least it was only one part of an otherwise really well done program. 

The little exception was that everything was presented in terms of “Africa” despite that this group is a Ugandan group helping Ugandan children.  There is a new trial program offshoot in South Sudan, to be fair.  But, referring only to Africa and rarely to Uganda perpetuates the Africa-is-a-country misconception.

I’ve come to realize over the years that as much as some of this bothers me, some of it is necessary to get donations and foreign support.  Muzungu-pandering I call it.  Give the white people what they want to see so they’ll give their money.  I sort of now see it as a necessary evil.  Watoto kept the muzungu pandering well balanced with insight into real Africa, including its beauty and its sorrows.  I liked that.

The most moving part of the evening was during one of the breaks between songs where the children would tell their stories about how they came to Watoto.  There was a young girl stepped forwards to talk about the day she became an orphan.  “I came home from school and found my neighbors standing around my mother’s body covered by a sheet.  They told me my father had hung himself after murdering my mum.”

The sadness and concern in the eyes of the adult Watoto woman standing behind this small girl conveyed more than anything else in the entire program.  That expression, that empathy and care from another human being, from another person in the program reinforced the realness of these children’s stories and the importance of Watoto to them.

Happy Anniversary Alfred and Nathy-Boo!

Today is Alfred and Nathy-Boo’s first anniversary. Since I didn’t post about their wedding a year ago, I figured this is a good occasion to do so.

The air was moist and warm, droplets of imagined rain clung to the ferns. Munchkinhead and I ducked under a banana tree leaf and giggled. Paradise. Nearly everywhere you turned there was lush green foliage or a burst of flowers. Hard to believe it was 40 and rainy outside. No, we weren’t in a jungle. Munchkinhead and I were just pretending we were in a jungle. Where we really were was the rehearsal for Alfred and Nathy-Boo’s wedding.

A truly exotic location, Des Moines, Iowa.

I’ve been to quite a number of weddings over the years and I have to say that this one was by far the best wedding I’ve attended.  It was well-organized, beautiful, economically, delightfully representative of the bride and groom, tons of fun and just over all amazing.  And I’m not just saying that because it was my sister’s.  Alfred knows I’d tell her if I thought she could have done better.
Alfred did pretty much all of the planning herself. The venue was delightful: the Des Moines Botanical Center.  A beautiful glass dome arcing high above succulent gardens with a small stream where colorful fish flipped their tales. Banana tree leaves and spindly flowers waved in the breezes created by people walking down the cobblestoned paths.  The moist, warm air inside hid any indication of the cold April gloom covering the outside world.  Why fill a church with expensive flowers when you can have the convenience of an indoor garden?

Alfred’s dress was, of course, absolutely beautiful.  A simple woman of logic and practicality, she is nothing of the diva that her two sisters are. Her dress showed this perfectly, classic, yet elegant, with just a touch of sparkle in the purple embroidered flowers at the bottom of the white satin.  Being as cold-blooded as the rest of her clan, she has had a matching bolero for the reception.
Her bridesmaids dresses also exemplified an important part of her nature, her consideration for others. Knowing that the fairer sex is prone to fluctuations in body size and shape, and having her bridesmaids coming from across the country, Alfred chose an adjustable option for the dresses. Purple satin corsets with matching long skirts.  Of course, Mommy made all the dresses, her own, the bridesmaids and Alfred’s.

Standing at the front of the garden with the other bridesmaids, I couldn’t help but tear up. Not only did Alfred look so beautiful and happy, but Daddy was tearing up next to her. How could anyone not get misty eyed seeing that?

The ceremony was short and sweet, presided over by the pastor from our home church in Milwaukee who came all the way to Iowa on Easter weekend just to marry Alfred and Nathy-Boo. And then the bride and groom walked together down the aisle to music from Star Wars. Geeks.

And then the real fun began, the reception. Every person had a gift to take home with them, lovely nameplates cross-stitched by the bride herself.  Alfred and Nathy-Boo also made all the centerpieces for the dinner tables, out of Legos! No one can tell me they’ve had better center pieces.  The small cake above the mountains of cupcakes was also Lego-themed, with a small corner of icing peeled back to revel bricks beneath  and a Lego bride and groom up top.
The cupcakes provided lots of amusement throughout the night as the cake part, and the fillings inside were quite delicious, but the frosting was a bit too much for anyone. Tables were covered with mounds of frosted peaks carefully removed from little cakes. Mugs overflowed with the pastel swirls, looking like fancy lattes.  One of our aunts had close to a dozen cupcakes and left a fine frosting display around her table place.

Alfred and Nathy-Boo’s music was perfect. All their favorites. I don’t think the dance floor was empty the entire night.  A ridiculous line formed across the middle for the “Time Warp”.  Munchkinhead and I waltzed to Metallica and danced with Daddy to the family theme song. Mommy and Daddy danced to their song. Alfred and I played air piano to “November Rain.” And we all polkaed.

It was a fabulous night. Wonderful to see so many family members and old friends and an absolute blessing to see Alfred and Nathy-Boo so happy. Congratulations on a fantastic wedding and on your anniversary!

Photo by Jill Brown

The Decoy

Compliments are nice; a girl likes a little positive feedback once in awhile. But, there’s a big difference between “excuse me, I know it’s none of my business, but you have nice legs,” and “hey, how are you? can I get your number? maybe I can call you sometime. when are you free?”

Sometimes, a girl just reaches a breaking point. For me, that breaking point was when I was walking past a guy and his two kids pushing a shopping cart in the super market. The dad told the kids to go back by their mom and then tried to holler. Umm.. no. That’s it. This has got to stop. So I have a decoy.

Sitting on my dresser, in its small black box was an old diamond ring from a previous life. I kept it there with a ticket stub from Blood Diamond to remind me of the things other people sacrifice so we can live our lives of privilege. I hope the gentleman that gave it to me will forgive me for wearing it again, but that diamond ring is now on my left hand. And so far, it seems to be working!

I’ve been able to ride BART and the bus without anyone hollerin'. I did get a few comments walking from the ICP concert to the club where I met my roommate, but I realized my hand was covered up. And at the club, boy was I happy to have that ring.

Mr. Trizzle says he doesn’t even notice it, but I think things are different when you’re at a club or trying to holler. In those instances, your looking for clues, hints that let you know if the person is available or not. (Most of the time, not always.) So even though Mr. Trizzle and other people I see frequently might not notice, people at the club certainly did.

One guy I was dancing with asked, “where’s your husband?” I just smiled and said, “not here.” (Not exactly a lie, but not giving me away.) He walked away! Awesome. Another guy I was dancing with asked if I left my man at home. Someone else made a comment too, but I forgot what it was.

I managed to leave the club having danced with more people than I could count. I think my decoy contributed to that because it made it more likely I’d find the people who were just there to dance instead of the people who were trying to get someone to take home and would pick a target, pounce, and not let go.

We stayed at the club until closing (my roommate managed to lose his glasses off his face without realizing it and we had to wait ‘til the lights were on to look for the glasses, which we didn’t find.) I left without having given anyone my number or having anyone buy me a drink. I was very proud. My roommate was annoyed and said I was again being the epitome of everything he hates about women. Good.

The best part of the club was the guy who tried to buy me a drink. I had already ordered my water when he sauntered over to the bar. Seeing that the bartender was getting me something, he said, “make it 2” and tried to pay. I gave the bartender her tip and walked away chuckling as she tried to explain to the guy that there was nothing to pay for because it was just water. She was still trying when I came back for my refill. The guy was befuddled. I was highly amused.

The club was great, and my little decoy is making traveling around the Bay and going out much more bearable. It sure beats dressing skuzzy, which I was starting to think might be my next option.

(By the way, I think the only reason I attract more attention here than I’m used to is because I stick out above the tops of most crowds. I’m taller than the average out here and, unlike pretty much everyone else, I wear heels all the time.)

3 Weddings and a Funeral (or My Summer Trips to Wisconsin)

It’s been a very busy summer for me.  I’ve covered enough miles in the air to have flown to Nigeria in back, but I only went to Milwaukee!

I’ve tried 4 different airlines (AirTran’s at the top of my list so far; sorry Midwest, they fly direct), gone through 5 different airports, and spent 4 wonderful Saturdays in the best place on earth.

All the trips were good, even the unexpected one for my grandpa’s funeral, but by far my favorite was my parents’ giant vow renewal party.  (Ok, technically, that’s not a ‘wedding’, but it’s close enough.)  Mommy and Daddy had a very full house, even before the party started.  All three of their daughters and all three of their daughters’ special friends.  So much fun!  (Photo © dtrizzle.)

Happy tears (Daddy), good friends (yay for Beaker and the Great Ecclestone sticking around late into the night), fun games (Twister!) and plenty of swimming.  Oh, and can’t forget all the yummy cheese!

 

The real weddings were great fun, too, especially since Mommy was at both of them.  Most recently, the whole family headed “up north” (actually about an hour west of Milwaukee, but anything that’s not Milwaukee or on the way to Chicago is “up north” to me) for a Schram wedding.  The last in their family, Mikey, was getting married.  The wedding was supposed to be outside.  Of course, that was the one day like all summer it rained.  Oh well, the inside ceremony was still really nice. 

The DJ’s didn’t play any polka, but it wasn’t the bride and groom’s fault.  They requested polka.  Munchkinhead tried too.  Knowing how much Mikey likes Weird Al, she tried requesting a Weird Al polka song – he has plenty.  It took two trips to the DJs.  At the end of a conversation, one of the DJs said, “Ok, whatever you like.”  Munchkinhead thought the DJ was finally going to play the polka she requested.  Well, not quite.  The DJ played the Weird Al version of T.I.’s “Whatever You Like!”

Despite the missing polka and the reception not being in a bowling alley it was still great fun.  The best part was seeing our old friends that we hadn’t seen in awhile (including the groom).  (Daddy Bunny, Gibby and Timmy Bear were happy to see each other, too.)  And of course dancing with Mommy – we found something to polka to – and Munchkinhead.  Munchkinhead and I were minuet-ing to “Turn My Swag On” until the DJs cut the song off in the middle.  I think that may have had something to d with us being the only two people left on the dance floor, and the only reason we were out there is because one of the groom’s great-aunts told Munchkinhead to go dance with me.  (She hates Souljaboytellem.)

Now at Mel’s wedding there was polka, and not just the “Beer Barrell Polka” and “the Chicken Dance.”  The best part was the middle of the polkaing, when the DJ yelled out, “alright all you -skis!”  (If you don’t understand that, you’re not Polish enough.  I’m sorry.  Maybe in your next life you’ll have better luck.)  The DJ also played a song with Snoop Dogg in it so Mommy and I could have our traditional dance-to-a-Snoop-Dogg-song dance, even though Mommy hates hip hop.  (You can’t tell in that picture up there, but the bride and groom are both giants!  He’s like 6’7”.)

  Mel’s wedding was a little strange for me because it was a whole bunch of people I hadn’t seen in about 6 years.  I felt like I was way past that point in my life and that it was all so different back then than it is now.  So it took a little while to adjust, but not too long.  And you know what, those girls are just as spectacular as they were six years ago.  Maybe even a bit more so – Lupe’s husband just completes her so well that between the two of them I was nearly always in stitches.  It was exciting to finally meet him! 

Other great parts of our old Second Steele crew were there too, Little, Ang and her husband, and a little green army man (on the bride & groom’s present, hee hee.)  Caitlin was there in spirit, especially when the DJ played “California Love;” no one can shake it like Caitlin (Little tried; it didn’t quite work.)

Oh! And one other amazing part of the night, Mel did “the Rooster Song!”  I love the Rooster Song!

Birthday Boy’s Birthday Party

Last night was The Legend’s birthday party.  In a big improvement from last year, he actually showed up.  He arranged a fun night out at a club in San Francisco.  The party was small, but it was a good group of people.

It was a lot of fun.  Up until about midnight, maybe 12:30.  By then, people were starting to crash, hard and I had had it with being pushed, shoved, stepped on and generally assaulted.  (And Mr. Trizzle, don’t even give me the ‘battery vs. assault’ lecture.  I mean the word in the general everyday way, not the legal way.)

This club was very different from any I’d ever been to before in two ways.  First, I’ve never been in a club that packed.  Clubs with packed dance floors, yes.  But clubs where the whole place is so packed you can hardly stand still without being jostled, let alone wiggle a little bit, no.  I was starting to think Kunte Kinta had more personal space on the Lord Ligonier.

Second, I don’t think I have ever been in a club with so many white people!  Ok, maybe that’s not quite accurate because I’ve been in bigger clubs.  I guess what I mean is I don’t think I’ve ever been in a club with such a high percentage of white people.  Now, in general, a club full of dancing white people really isn’t a big deal.  However, this club was too full. 

You see, white people have this thing, especially common when the DJ plays their favorite hip hop songs, where they just have to do whatever is being talked about on the song.  This results in most of the room attempting to “back that *vampire* up,” “drop it,” or throw their arms up and jump at the same time.  Suddenly, all these people are taking up twice as much space as they were before because they’re bent over, squatting down or flailing around like maniacs.  Splendid.  Cuz I wasn’t getting shoved or pushed enough before.  Mr. Trizzle reprimanded me for throwing ‘bows, but 8ft-Red agreed it was a good move.

And yes, the DJ played quite a number of songs from that favorites list linked above.  He did a lot of weird stuff too, like playing the Beatles “Come Together” split up with Biggie’s “Hypnotize” so that it altered between the two.  He also took out the good dance beat in “Grillz” and replaced it with some weird electronica beat that did not match the cadence of the rap at all, but he left on the beat for “A Milli”!  That is the worst beat ever in the history of Lil Wayne and hip hop, and you sure as heck can’t dance to it.

Luckily, it seems The Legend doesn’t mind being bumped against or whatever.  (And I’m convinced guys really don’t know how annoying it is because they have almost no bare skin in the clubs, unlike girls.  So when that fat, sweaty girl brushes against their arms, they don’t even realize their shirt is all wet, whereas I’m left with a greasy arm and an overwhelming nausea caused by the gross violation of my body.)  The Legend was having tons of fun, chatting it up (in a club, I have no idea how!), dancing with girls, buying drinks for girls… oh wait, for himself because she disappeared… and generally having fun.  He was having so much fun, he didn’t even seem ready to leave when the club closed.  And that’s good, cuz it was his birthday.  Happy Birthday! :)

Group Class

Earlier this week, The Prez (see Barrister's entry for pic) arranged for an un-official BLSA event, an exercise class at a local studio.   The classes can only hold five students each, so we had to split up into two classes.  I went to an official BLSA tutoring event with My Rhyming Twin earlier in the evening, so she and I went to the later class with her roommie.  (The Prez came to tutoring too, but left a lil early to go to class.)  Somehow - she must be a miracle worker - The Prez talked Mzzzz Jones into going, too.  But, she was in the earlier class.  Ironically, I think she had more fun than me, despite her strong resistance to going.

The class was ok, but like any other dance-style class, I spent most of it frustrated.  With no arm strength and even less abs muscles, I couldn't do much.  There was this one warm up push-up thing, I couldn't even get down to the ground to push back up again!  And when the teacher said stand up, bend over and touch the floor, I almost laughed.  My body never moves the way other people tell it to. 

In fact, the only move I could do was something my sister and I used to do  in our Sunday School classroom at Tippie  (there was some sort of structural pole in the room).  Apparently, it's called a sit-spin.  The class did make me miss ballet though.  With slower movements and a more rigid posture, I can handle that well enough to at least keep up in class.  And I love leaping :)  This class reminded me of when I tried to take hip hop dance lessons.  I'm better off sticking to dancing in my living room.  Less pressure, cheaper too.

Oh well, guess I better find a new back-up plan for if this whole law thing doesn't work out ;)
(just kidding)