Who the hell is Chris? In all honesty, I have no idea. I'd never met the man before last night and if he knocked on my front door today, I still wouldn't recognize him. However, I did crash his 50th birthday party out in Athens last night. Well, for Nigerians, there is really no such thing as crashing. My beau and I were the guests of George and Chinonso (thank you!) who were the guests of someone else, hence we were cool to party. Uninvited guests are typical at most Nigerian functions. They have a very welcoming spirit.
Anyhow, we got there at about 12:15am and the party was in full swing. I love my American upbringing and culture (both positive and negative) but I'm delighted by what I'm learning of the Igbo culture. These people love to celebrate life. Somebody had a baby? Let's party. Someone graduated from high school? Let's party. Someone passed away? Let's party. Someone got married? Let's party? Someone is visiting from another country? Let's party. Someone got out of the hospital? Let's party. It's not just cake and a few well-wishers. It's an all-out affair complete with a formal and/or traditional dress code, open bar, DJ, dancing, much thanks to a higher power and a kola nut. Halls are rented. Formal invitations are professionally printed on premium paper. Hair appointments are made. Mercedes are gassed up. It's go time. Chris, bless his heart, was turning 50, hence all the Igbo and various other West Africans both near and far were alerted.
These types of events are not simply thrown together. At each table, there was an itinerary printed on festive paper and we were now experiencing the first round of DANCE, DANCE, DANCE which would be followed by a best dressed contest. I liken these events to an extended family reunion..... with class. No matter who you are or who you came with or why you're there, you can't just sit on the sidelines and not participate. The music moves you. Everyone greets you with a smile and open arms. You MUST eat. You MUST drink. Hell, even the busgirls took time out to dance in between clearing the tables. I recognized a popular Nigerian song about love and marriage and got up to dance with Sweet Lovin' Man. We may have been two of the youngest people dancing on the crowded floor. Folks were gettin it...and not in that "it hurts to move my limbs" way but rather in that "I will dance until the sun rises" way. That's alright!
The highlight of the evening was a Cameroonian dancer and I had to include two videos of this young lady. She was a perfect example of how size does not hinder sex appeal. You see Nigerians, much like men from New Orleans, love those big fine women. They will take a Jill Scott, Queen Latifah or Monique any day. I'm inclined to believe that my boyfriend's mother and sister are trying to fatten me up prior to nuptials. Larger or not, I couldn't hold a candle to that lady doing her thing. She moved better than any malnourished stripper on which I've ever laid eyes. I loved watching her perform because it pretty much went against everything that the status quo claims to represent beauty and sensuality. She was not a size 2. She was as brown as a berry. She had a mid-section that jiggled. Nevertheless, she was undeniably gorgeous and sexy. It was a given that she was going to get sprayed! Spraying is the original form of "making it rain." When a young lady is dancing well then the chiefs and/or men of stature will come and "spray" her with cash. You'll see it in the video.
The lowlight of the evening was the musical stylings of Kenny Nightingale, gospel saxophonist extraordinaire. Kenny could probably play very well on your average night. However, on this night, Kenny probably had one libation too many and had stepped into that realm. You know the realm I'm talking about. The one where you are pretty drunk and you believe that you are the most talented person in the entire universe and you are performing in front of a crowd of a million devoted fans who are also every bit as drunk as you are...although they really aren't...and you think everything you're doing is out of this world even though in reality it sounds kind of average or maybe even bad? Kenny leaned to and fro in the fashion of an ecstatic John Coltrane as he played some pretty elementary chords on his saxophone. I thought he was going to break himself in half leaning as far back as he did. I had no choice but to post an update on Facebook.
Anyhow, I had an awesome time and can't wait to crash the next Nigerian function.
Who the hell is Chris? In all honesty, I have no idea. I'd never met the man before last night and if he knocked on my front door today, I still wouldn't recognize him. However, I did crash his 50th birthday party out in Athens last night. Well, for Nigerians, there is really no such thing as crashing. My beau and I were the guests of George and Chinonso (thank you!) who were the guests of someone else, hence we were cool to party. Uninvited guests are typical at most Nigerian functions. They have a very welcoming spirit.
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