Tuesday, February 08, 2005

What is love? I honestly don’t know the answer, not that this is a new revelation, but I always had some idea of what it should be from the movies and songs. You know, TV is real life…

In Ghana, when a rastapherian says he loves me it is because he is high and it goes along with the religion. Raspapherians love everyone, one love, you know. If they declare their love and don’t receive a similar response, they call it racism or animosity. Neutral or liking or “getting to know” don’t is not part of the culture. If a girl says it to me, and plenty have, it is not meant in a homosexual way. Woe to you if you are a homosexual in Ghana. However, some girls are quicker to say it then the men. Charity initially wanted to be my friend so I could find her a husband in the USA. They seem to be just three words that are supposed to lure me into shedding some of my supposed wonderful mystique like a prize. Honestly, they collect addresses like trophies. I don’t like to think of it this way but the constant emptiness; racism or opportunistic ness behind these words is causing me to lose faith in the concept I had before.

When the theory that I identify with most, god is love, is nullified by the Ghanaian mis and overuse of this word, I become more and more convinced that love doesn’t exist and therefore, god does not exist. If love does exist, and god is love, then love isn’t something I want to believe in.

On a similar note, I have never been so inundated with Christianity in my life. Honestly, I’m exhausted by their constant scrutiny and attempts to convert me to full blooded Christianity in a single conversation. One of their favorite questions is “where did you come from? Oh, then where did the primordial goo come from?” I don’t know, where did god come from? Why do we always have to define god, religion and beliefs? To me it’s an entirely personal matter and what works for someone doesn’t work for someone else. I feel like their dependence on god is almost more dehabilitating then helpful. Sure, if you believe that god is in charge, then he is, but you have to help him to help you, right? Sometimes I just want to say, “why don’t you just do it yourself instead of praying for it?” and “for crying out loud, if you did manage to do it, don’t go and credit it all to god’s plan. Have some self empowerment and confidence.” I should put a disclaimer here. Either supplement your actions with prayers or pray for the things you personally can not help yourself with. There was a guy who said he'd been praying his entire life to go to the USA. But he'd never thought about saving money or completing his high school education or even talking to the embassy. I mean, come on.

But now I am just being hypocritical and we know what god does to hypocrites. As I said, religion is a personal thing and I should not down play their faith that god will take care of everything.

Saturday, February 05, 2005

One Love
Raggae Rasta man, ears full of Jamaican heat
headphones always on, music melting in
wearing Chaco’s,
tie dye pants, pretty cowry shells.
Playing drums in the dark, beat,
guessing songs, taking too long
follow the notes like soldier ants
a long song.
Tie dye pants, white and blue,
Reggae rastapherian dancing drumming, true.
Hand shake, hand shift, hand snap
holding hands.
Rasta man, Rasta hair, beaded, dreaded, faded.
Walk her home, remind her here how
a swinging beat swallows, heals, hurts, now.
New friends and feelings, shy smiling,
softly up, smoking down, dancing all around.
Tickle her hand, hold her hand, holding helping hand
whistle away into the wasted day
crinkle, fickle, stop
Not here forever, no never
she can’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t stay, so she stays away,
inverse Rasta girl, ivory skin, emerald eyes,
smile, cry, corrupt music drums, dancing feet
turn around, around, around about.
Forget her Rasta reggae man,
you will never meet again.