Who Wants to be my Envoy for #ChaleWote2015?
Keep in mind, I can’t pay you ooooo. If I could pay you, I’d be there myself.
Man. I prayed. I prayed and asked God and the Universe to allow me to go to ChaleWote2015. I even asked some of you to send vibrations to the Universe. Did you vibrate, or did you forget me? I didn’t even ask you to pray! Prayer is difficult. I know. You think you have to find a closet somewhere, creak to your knees and mutter “Ha! I wanna Hyndai!” repeatedly to get results. That’s why I didn’t request prayer…just mere vibrations. Even that kraa, you couldn’t do for me. It’s okay. Darris gawd.
Needless to say, I am NOT attending this year’s street art festival in Accra though my heart and soul are in Jamestown. I am gashing in Atlanta. As rumor and Twirra tell it, the festival got off to a great start with Adventures from the Bedrooms of African Women’s very on Nana Darkoa Sekyiamah participating in a juicy panel discussion alongside Akosua Hanson and my cyber-sister-friend Nana Ama Agyemang. I should have been there to watch…but it’s okay! The Universe and its smaller brother, Jesus Christ had other plans for me.
That is why I am in search of an envoy…someone to do and see all the things that my present position has made impossible. Envoys are an important part of the social fabric, you know? They represent royalty and governments. Wouldn’t it be nice to walk up to a stall or exhibit at ChaleWote and declare that you are sampling their fares as an envoy?
“Oh! On envoy for who! Who do you represent? Japan?”
“Errr…no. I’m an envoy for Malaka.”
“Who is Malaka?”
You might scratch your head before you sheepishly admit, “Some chick on the innanets gabbing on about vibrations and cupcakes.”
The purveyor of fine Ghana made good may then have pity on you and offer a sample for free. After all, you must be equally mad to walk up to a stranger and announce with pride that you have chosen to represent an online enigma for free. Speaking of cupcakes, here is a list of tasks I’d like my envoy to complete in the next two days:
- Visit Totally Baked and pick up a red velvet cupcake. Then sniff it. Then take a picture of you sniffing it. Then tag me. You might have to buy it after all that nostril contact…but you’re good for the money. The Almighty will reward you in the end.
- Find Wanlov the Kubolor and give him the biggest hug ever. Then sniff him. Report how he smells immediately. I bet he smells like garden gnome essence and magic.
- There’s a guy that makes jewelry out of copper. Copper makes me itch, so you don’t have to actually try on his stuff. Just get a selfie with him.
- Yo. There’s gonna be a street parade…And. It’s. ALWAYS. Dope. Though you’re probably not dressed for it, hop into the procession and dance agbadza. It doesn’t matter if the drums are playing adowa or borborbor. Agbadza and agbadza alone is the official dance of Malaka’s Envoy.
- There’s this new tiger nut drink out now. Feel free to sip on that. Sip on that ALL DAY if you want to. You know what they say about performance and tiger nuts. Heh heh heh…. What’s that? You don’t know what they say? Humph. You’ll find out by the end of the night.
- Oh my Gawd. If you see Ambolley, lick his face. Whisper something unintelligible in his ear. And then run.
- Oh yeah! Get a picture of you and Yaa Traps Death in a Basket! It will be at the street fest with @AmaTuffet. Tweet at her ’til you find her. That’ll annoy the crap out of her, but part of your job as Malaka’s Envoy is to be a bit obnoxious. People expect that.
- Someone is bound to be selling chale wote at the Chale Wote street festival. Camp next to them and take quick shots of all the feet that slide into them. We’ll need those for later.
- Don’t forget to eat kenkey.
- Have fun, eh? Dance. Dance with total strangers. Laugh like a rich woman. Show ridiculous enthusiasm for everything. Like “Oh my gosh, is that ice water in a kalabash? I LOVE ice water…especially in a kalabash. Do you mind if I try some?” Then drink the ice water like it’s the first time H2O has ever entered your mouth.
Okay Madam or Mister Envoy! I’m waiting for your report. Number 6 is of paramount importance. That’s our coup de gras. No one will EVER believe we pulled that off. Muahahaa!!! Twipic or it never happened!