The African Baby that Made My Ovaries Skip a Beat

So tonight I met the baby that made me want to have my own. Not that I didn’t before. I mean, babies are cute and cuddly and stuff, right? But to be brutally honest, they make me nervous. Ya’ll know I’m forgetful and clumsy and can be downright awkward around kids. I’m afraid I will break them or something. But this kid….like, my ovaries woke up from a long nap like “Yo Tracey, cmon son, like look at what we can do for you? Stop giving us Ambien.”

This baby was everything. He was love. He was happiness. He was unadulterated innocence. He was good tidings, comfort and joy. He was peace. His eyes lit up for absolutely no reason other than the fact that life was pumping through his veins and he had these larger versions of himself around to watch it. He flew into the room we were pre-gaming in, greeting everyone like he knew us since way back (though he’s only a year and a half). We played together and he threw blocks at us. He laughed like he had told the funniest joke to the entire room, but didn’t realize we spoke English and he hadn’t quite yet mastered it.

His mother (who was beautiful both inside and out – I see where the baby gets his personality from) told us “He’s never been this excited. I think its all the people!” That reminded me of myself, and how I love being surrounded by people. Always have. Always will be. It’s the positive energy in the air that I love when my friends or good people are around. It’s like a drug for me. And clearly this baby was high off the same thing.

At the yard party we went to, he didn’t miss a beat. The host was apparently half Trini so there was soca playing all night. Baby Ghana Joy was dancing around like he had taken lessons. Again, Mom told us “I never taught him. He just started doing this on his own.” He reminded me of Happy Feet, with no care in the world of what anyone was doing around him. In fact, that is something I love about the way other cultures party. Like, nobody else is in the room. Not a care in the world. Just you, the rhythm of the music, the bass line, the drums, the pulse of a people whose blood runs deep in your veins, either literally or figuratively through the music. It is awesome, and traveling reconnects me to this pulse that has somehow become diluted in African American culture (by Wacka Flacka flame perhaps? Or Soldja Boy? You be the judge).

But back to Baby Ghana Joy. So, the speakers started playing the first few bars of Palance, at which time I of course got entirely too excited but kept my composure b/c it was a chill type of scene and I didn’t want to look too touristy (not that the camera around my neck didn’t already give it away). Baby Ghana Joy had already picked up the tune and it was like we were on the same page. It almost seemed like he knew the words b/c the entire song he had one of his hands up, and was doing a baby jump for the entire song! At this point I wanted to steal him but there are all kinds of laws against that and his parents know my sister and play cousins so I left him there.

He eventually ran out of energy and I could see him falling asleep at the party the same way I do in the corner once my energy has run out from doing too much on the dance floor. Baby Ghana Joy was amazing, and even though it’s only Day 2, I can already say he was one of the highlights of my trip! I hope to see him again, and wish he could understand how he and his baby afro-hawk impacted my spirit tonight.

I’ll post pics of him when I return so you can get a piece of this joyful overload of cuteness 🙂