Me, a guest speaker?

One day I was just chillin and the lady I’m living with said, “Come.” I was like, “Alright,” so we went. I had only been here a few days, so I didn’t know how to ask a lot of questions.

We drove about an hour, and then stopped. Again, she said, “Come,” so I went.

Where are we? Is this someone’s house? Maybe we’re visiting one of her friends…

 When I walked in the front gate, they wrapped some traditional garb around me, presented a bouquet of fresh flowers, and introduced me to the crowd as the “guest speaker.”

What? Me, a guest speaker? What is this? What am I supposed to talk about? Do they even understand English… that’s the only language I’ve got at this point.

Turns out, it was a tribe’s annual holiday. They had all gathered to celebrate, and I was supposed to speak. Good thing someone was there to help translate. When I was walking up to the stage, I noticed the banner above my head said the theme was, “know thy roots to know thy self,” so I talked about culture, the importance of knowing were we come from, who went before us, and Who created us.

It was a hilarious experience.

And… oddly enough, I was in the newspaper the next day.

Welcome to my life.