In the Blood

The colour, the charisma, the smiles, the big laugh, the warmth, the charm, the beat,the big behinds, the even bigger head dresses, the con---yeah, the con also. I am in Africa and I keep thinking that I feel like I went home to Jamaica. In South Africa, in Zimbabwe, the welcome, and the lovely people. It feels like home. So much similarities between the African and Caribbean people. It must be the blood, you know?  

I was speaking to a colleague in Zimbabwe who wanted me to know just how much Reggae music has done for Zimbabwe --especially right after it got independence in 1980. And another colleague mentioned he had never met anyone that could play a Reggae beat on a set of drums unless they grew up listening to the music and love the music. It must be blood, you know? Like, my daughter is half Jamaican but if you turn on Reggae music, she will put her hands in the air and start snapping  fingers and clapping hands and tapping feet and twitching her little diapered behind. We don't play Reggae at home much but gosh that child loves Reggae music and seeks it out on youtube with her tablet. So it simply has got to be in the blood.

I have never met a black woman that didn't love a colourful outfit. She could be wearing all black she must have some colour in it-- hair may be wine red or blue, nails may be pink or green or a giant necklace may be orange or a rainbow of colours.

In the blood. I'll be in Zimbabwe for the rest of the week.