In July, 2008, I, Princess Rachella, Intrepid African American Girl International Journalism Consultant, pulled up stakes once again and headed to Nairobi, Kenya. Through my various adventures, I've concluded that if I get any MORE explosively fabulous in these prequel years to "THE BIG 5-0," I will have to register myself with the Pentagon as a thermonuclear incendiary device.

Monday, June 13, 2011

City With the Big Shoulders...and the Big-Assed Green Hat

There is so much that I ADORE about America going on in this photo that I just had to write about it! First, I'm standing on a street corner waiting for a form of public transportation that has a more than 90 percent chance of arriving on time and getting me to my desired destination without killing me. After 4 years of living in East Africa, that is a thrilling experience. That and the fact that my lungs are not choked with diesel fumes.

Next, the McDonald's ad on the bus shelter is a righteous hoot! I mean, I may have lived outside of America for a few years, but the day I believe that anything produced by Mickey D's can elicit "delicious harmony" will be the day I'm ready for a straitjacket or assisted living. In my next life, I wanna come back as an advertising exec, so I can sit around all day laffing my ASS off making up bullshit campaigns that bear no semblance of truth but which make me a freakin' MINT.

Now let us now ponder the brother about board the reliable, clean, efficient CTA bus. WTF??? I mean, he's wearing serious Asian headgear of some sort, a manpurse and a wifebeater. I could only chalk his appearance up to the extreme heatwave gripping the city that day. Dude was delusional if he looked into the mirror that morning on his way out the crib and saw anything but HEE-lariousness!

I saved the best focal point in this picture for last. Peep the sister in the funky floral print dress leaning against the bus shelter. I first noticed her from behind because of her green sun hat, which happened to be my favorite shade of vivid, chartreuse-y green. It reminded me that I should have been wearing some kind of hat myself that day, because it felt like the sun was hovering about a half inch above my head.

As you can see from the photo, girlfriend was looking kinda fly. Tall, trim physique, and even from behind, you could tell she carried herself with serious 'tude. But when she turned to face me at one point, I was slightly startled. She was impeccably made up, and she was clearly in her 60's, possibly even early 70s. Now, I don't know why I was surprised that an "older" woman could look so bangin', but I was. And I instantly vowed to be just like her 15, 20 years from now.

In this one moment, everything that makes me feel so American, so different during my travels in Africa became so utterly clear. There are just some things you don't "get" unless you're American. There are some experiences that are uniquely American. And of all the developed nations, I believe America is the safest, most welcoming place for a 65-year-old woman to proudly strut her Inner Hottie.

I swear to GOD, this time i'm gonna Miss America so much more than I ever thought possible after I return to Nairobi, mostly because of this particular street corner reverie.

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