Showing posts with label Afro Wolof. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Afro Wolof. Show all posts

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

EID AL ADHA OR TOBASKI 2013 PART ELEVEN: A BEACH PARTY, AN INITIATION CEREMONY, AND THE TALKING GAMBIAN MUSIC BLUES...




Well we all woke up early and that’s a fact.
You can’t really not when you’ve got a small mosque about two hundred yards away and a quite large one about four hundred yards away.
The small one starts the call to prayers at five-thirty and they are louder than the larger one so anybody looking to sleep in would probably need ear-muffs, but at least it means we get first go in the shower for the hot water.
We had asked everybody over the course of the previous week to PLEASE not hang about in the morning because we would be at certain places along the route to pick people up at particular times, but there’s always going to be one who doesn’t make it and has to get there under their own power.
A quick breakfast and before you can turn around Ida is here from over the road.
One.
I’m not sure how well the plates got washed up by the smaller contingent of the family but then we can always yell at them tomorrow !!!
The people carrier is here with the guys so numbers two to seven have just been accomplished.


Amadou will be at the top of the road and Fat’ Cham is nowhere in sight.



Jali Bakary and Mariettou we pick up further along on the road to Sanyang where we will be stopping for provisions.


Right, the gang is nearly all here, so let’s get it on…
Amadou is now in, and Jali and Mariettou are waiting for us outside the small provision shop at Chinchu Alagie.


It’s a bit of a nuisance the kids not having armbands for the sea having left them in a taxi on a previous occasion, but it can’t be helped and since we are officially about a month outside the holiday season we can’t expect any of the shops to have any.
It just means that I’m going to be one bruised and scratched Dad after going in with them.
If any of the others go in I know it’ll be later in the afternoon but children who see water ALWAYS seem to want to get in it as soon as they can, and ours are no exception.
Of course when the first big wave hits then they’ll all grab me to hang on to…
Hence the bruises.

While we’re at Tanje (pronounced tan-gee, as in whiz) Amadou asks if I know the track that he’s been blasting into his ears via his headphones ?
It’s definitely something that both his Mother and I have been known to blast out on occasions, and I suppose singing the chorus back at him gave the game away somewhat…
‘Honey you shake, I’ll rattle, we can roll on down the line… See if we can’t get in touch with a very close friend of mine… ‘
Well that’s all you’re getting, so do you know what it is ?
It’s a ‘classic’ album track from the second album.
Any fan of ‘Classic Rock’ from the nineteen seventies should be able to place it and I can’t be arsed to tell you, but bless him, Amadou thinks it’s the dog’s dangly bits (I’m being polite, ok ?) and he’s really got into it.
Funny how some artists just seem to get under people’s skin ?
So far we’ve got Mum, Mariama and Amadou into this guy’s music and they all like different songs, but that’s the great thing about music.
It crosses all borders of country, race, colour, religion, and any other damned obstacle that people have a habit of throwing in your way as we all stagger blindly from one world crisis to another…
It turns out Amadou has got the complete double greatest hits cd on his iPod.
See… Our family have good taste.
If you can’t get the track from the chorus then you’re either no rock fan or far too young,  and you can google it if you want the artist, cos I’m not an information service for ‘Failed Rock fans…’
Oh, I like that.
Failed Rock fans.
Great expression, and I might have to use it again sometime ?
That’s pissed off a few of you, no doubt ?
Hahahahaha…
Oh well… Tough !
Jeezus H !!!
Haddy has just come around the corner with probably the largest melon I have literally ever seen in my life ?
Bloody thing is gonna need a seat of its own at that size ?
Ok, stash the melon.
Buy a bit more…
Still no children’s armbands or even rings but at least we tried.
Not far to go now because you can actually see Sanyang from the fish market.
And we’re there.
Bumping along the sandy track down to Leybato…

First things first and the younger ones insist on getting changed because they want to go swimming.


They’ll have to wait for about an hour before we let them in as I have a couple of jobs to do in the way of helping with the food.























So after a bit of lazing about the first game of Ludo started up...


Of course as soon as we turn up, the dogs materialise also.


Now there are two ways of looking at the dogs on the beach if you’re a tourist.
All the guidebooks tell you the sensible one and usually we do the other.
If anything was to go wrong then yes, it’ll be down to us, but so far it hasn’t and so long as we keep being kind then there really is no reason to think that it would.
Ok, let’s give you the gen and you can make your own minds up ?
The guidebooks tell you that you must stay away from the dogs who roam the beaches because they have turned feral, will probably bite because they’ve been badly treated and could have rabies ?
This is all true.
Any one of those could be true, if not all of them ?
However, since we’ve been coming here we have seen about three families go from young dog to adulthood.
They don’t tend to last long because the snakes go for their puppies and the adults tend to die defending the pups.
Originally they will have been beaten and cut by the local beach dwellers including the bumsters and the fishermen.
Some will have their tails cut off and some their ears, but they do respond to kindness.
When I first started feeding them back when Haddy’s eldest daughter Fatou was working here she nearly had a pink fit when I asked for a bowl of water for the dogs and all the food that we would otherwise have thrown away to feed them.
I figured that if we fed them then they’d hang about and keep the rat population away ?
And it worked, they did.
At the time we were the only beach bar without a rat problem because Fatou followed my lead and kept them fed and watered.


Unfortunately, now that her Father has let it go to rack and ruin after she and Haddy made a success of it we might have to do it all over again, but while we are here we will keep our side of the bargain.


And it seems to work.
These dogs ARE feral and there’s no doubt about that, but they respond to kindness.
None of our lot will chase them away or beat them AND they can have a fresh drink of water without going into the scrubland and mixing it with the snakes, AND, they seem to appreciate it ?
Obviously I’m not suggesting that you ‘diss’ the guidebook’s advice, but surely a better way is just to be friendly ?
They got little of that from their original owners and that’s for sure.
If in doubt then stay away is good advice, but what if you have no doubts ?
I know it sounds strange but I’m glad they are there and that they come back to see us when we arrive.
The beach is a few miles long so they could range anywhere, but they seem to like Leybato and that’s fine with us.


Even our Gambian guys don’t chase them away now.
It’s a small thing in the grand scheme of things but I think we’re doing the right thing.
Only time will tell.
Anyway, first we have to sort out the important stuff and get the ataya (pronounced attire) on...


Then it's time for me to start work.

Having done my chores (grating cabbage and carrot) which has now been taken over by Amadou, I am finally allowed to change and have a bit of fun…
The guys are nipping back up the road to buy fresh fish caught this morning which they will then prepare.
Aliou Bah is the main man as far as ‘chef-ing’ is concerned with Kawsu in reserve but they know what they’re doing.
Ok, the sun is up, the water is warm so last one in is a cissy.
Probably can’t say that in this politically correct age, but do I give a toss ?
And I got absolutely hammered…
There's another one coming...










Urrrrgh... That was cold...

Ida is by far the worst out of the three of them.

Call that cold... What a wuss...












She’s also the biggest, so it doesn’t bode well when she grabs hold as the waves come in.

I'll give you wuss, you cheeky so and so...

To be fair to Ida,  Mariama and Jalika have had a lot more experience in water and I managed about an hour before I needed to get out, and to tell you the truth I was knackered.
I left the kids with Housai’ watching over them.


Anybody going further out than waist height will be dragged out and won’t be allowed in the sea again.
They’ve been warned but they’ll be alright for a bit in the shallows.
Time to dry off before a lunchtime snack.
And finally…
Fat Cham has arrived.
She definitely missed the bus…
(And she’s not fat either, it’s short for Fatou…)
And so, typically because it’s food time, has Ali.






Ali lives at Sanyang anyway, and I think Haddy asked him to pop over because he makes the wristbands which she gives out to our friends at Cropredy and to others so honoured.
Today he’ll be making about ten plus one special one each for the little ones.
No problem.







Ok, let’s eat.
The lunchtime snack is the fish they bought when we arrived, with the aforementioned cabbage and carrot mix as the ‘salad’.
This is then liberally sluiced with lime juice and black pepper and it tastes ok to one who’d never had it before.
Ok, I’d have preferred lettuce and tomato, but it’s what we could get and beggars can’t be choosers…
I got ‘Ladyfish’.
The picture below is out of sequence and was actually taken at the compound but it will give you some idea of the sizes of these things.

At the bottom is a Ladyfish and above that is a Barracuda
 And, as usual, the piece was bloody enormous.
How do people eat all that ?
I can’t, and that’s a fact.
Haddy had barracuda and that wasn't small either.

Haddy's barracuda












(You can actually buy frozen barracuda steaks in the UK now, check your local African or Asian grocer...) 
I can’t see the dogs getting any either, certainly not with this lot about…
I do however have to pay tribute to my fellow chefs because it was absolutely delicious.

It’s after lunch, and now the three little monsters are going to have to wait an enforced hour after they’ve eaten and so they are going for a walk with Amadou down the beach before hitting the sea again.


Ali has eaten, done his bit with the wristbands and been paid for his efforts and now he’s off to see a couple of his mates further down the beach.
Of course the little ones and Amadou have now vanished into the distance somewhere, so guess who got the job of going to look for them ?
Yep !
Got it in one…
The problem with me going is that I’m a sitting target for every bloody bumster on the beach and I can tell you now, it gets very tedious just saying ‘No thank you’ or ‘No thanks, I’m looking for my kids… You haven’t seen three little girls and their elder brother have you ?’ and all they want to do is sell you something, so they’re not really interested.
It’s that bloody ‘screw the toubab’ thing again.
I’m in swimming gear and a t-shirt and I’m NOT carrying any money but as they say, they can call around for it later…
I don’t think so.
About a couple of miles down the beach they are finally located and informed that Mum has sent the search party, so could they please return and put her mind at rest, thank you ?
It’s hard work walking on that sand.
It’s red hot for starters, so the walk back is through the wet stuff with the sea rippling at my feet.
You ever walked a couple of miles through wet sand with the waves trickling over your feet ?
It takes twice as long as it did to get there because your feet sink into the sand.
And of course, you are then a target for every bumster on the beach to have another go…
How I managed to remain polite has eluded me, but I did.
Sod it.
I need a drink and fruit juice will do very well, thank you.


Now of course the kids want to go in the sea again…
Oh well, assume supervisory duties and try and get them out when they start shivering which will probably be in about another hour’s time.
It’s a great life if you don’t weaken…

It’s food time again and so it’s time to get the kids out of the water and dried off and then it’s steamed and grilled chicken with the same salad.


Not bad at all…











And I’m used to the cabbage and carrot mix now.
So there I was, videoing everything going on, when the guys changed the subject they had been talking about to music.
Specifically, Gambian music.
I know a few words in Wolof and I really wanted them to switch to English so I could put my two pennies worth into the conversation as well, but as usual, Haddy saved the day and we didn’t even turn the camera off.
So…
The complete conversation is on video and I include it here because these guys and me are on the same wavelength when it comes to Gambian music.
And the reason I’m talking slowly is because English is not their native tongue and I want them to understand what I’m talking about.
If I’d just hit them with my usual fifty mile an hour rat-a-tat-tat speech pattern then they wouldn’t have got most of it, and this was important, to me at least.
If you watch it and think you have a point to make then please get in touch via the blog’s comment section, but I warn you now, I don’t do anonymous users.
Too many of them love flinging insults (usually heavily racist) and I can’t be bothered with them.
There are far too many floating about, and their mindless and gutless comments hiding under their cloak of anonymity piss me off, so I sorted the blog so it won’t accept them.
Anybody sending a comment is welcome to do so, but I can do without mindless arseholes.
(Couldn’t we all ?)
Anyway, here ‘tis…
So…
What do you reckon ?
It does throw up a few points, especially about reggae but I think we covered most bases ?
It also makes me think that I’d love to work with ‘Pa Lie’ on something out there.
I reckon we could do something to prove our point ?
Oh yeah, for those who have blundered in here by accident or because you’ve clicked on something that looked interesting to you, here’s a link to one of those films that my wife made about the Afro Manding guys that I mentioned in the conversation.
They’re both on Youtube but I actually like the ‘look’ of the first one she shot.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzfDPYWvl_c 
If you’re one of the regular readers (and I know there’s a few) then you’ve probably seen one if not both of them already.
If not, then it’s just a practice session without the kora player and vocalist who returns on the second one in which we lose one drummer and the balofon player due to circumstances beyond their control.
Is that it ?
This bloody post is going on for ever, I hear you cry ?
Errr… Actually no.
But there is a little more, he says, hesitantly…

Ok, it’s late afternoon and the little ones are finally out of the water.
Now it’s time for a couple of wrestling bouts…


Waste of time.

 
I would have put my money on Kawsu and I would have won, just like he did…


Twice.
They’re a lovely bunch of nutters, this lot.
I love them to bits.
Friends, colleagues in a couple of things, teachers…

Pa Lie, Fat' Cham and Mariama at back
 
What can I say ?
But they are definitely utterly mad sometimes, and this was one of those ‘sometimes’.
Now…
Some of you have read some of the earlier posts in which I mention the family’s ‘Initiation ceremony’.
If you haven’t, then what I suggest you do is click on the upcoming video link and all will be revealed.
It is of course total madness, but that’s one of the things that all families have hidden away somewhere…
And ours is no exception.
The poor innocent dupe whose turn it is will be given a quick warning, told to kneel, and then it occurs…
And loud screams and yells usually hit the air because it’s bloody cold for a start.
Not that I have yet had it done, I haven’t.
But my time will definitely come.
This year it was Lamin’s turn and also Jali Bakary’s.
I do think it should take place a little earlier in the day because the sea is beginning to cool down by this time.
Yes, you are quite right.
We are all stark raving mad.
But that’s the joy of it, don’t you see ?
Oh, and just to prove a point, here's a still shot taken literally just after it occurred...
Please note the proximity of the two dogs. 

Pa Lie, Dog, Mariattou, Housai' and dog...

Anyway, anything after that is an anti-climax.
Like giving out the ties…








I mean can you think of a more unsuitable place to do it ?
But the guys were all here and in one place and it made sense to Haddy, so why not ?
There’s no arguing with her logic, is there ?






It was time to leave.
I always miss this place when we go.
Probably because Haddy and I came here for our wedding reception ?
It has always been somewhere to go and just chill out for the day.
But it has seen better days under Fatou’s stewardship and then under Haddy’s when her daughter first went to Scotland with her husband.


Somebody should look after it, but Fatou’s Father will not do it.
He is only interested in ‘instant money’ and it shows in what Haddy had put into it, and which has since gone missing, and the state the place is in now.


It is very sad.
I’m glad I haven’t met Fatou’s Father, and I have no wish to either.
The guy is definitely on my ‘shit list’.
(Cue L.7 for their music track… Google it if you have to… Great track)

The three youngest members all fell asleep on the way back home.
Bearing in mind the times they usually go to bed, I think they must be tired out ?
We left a bit later than we were going to, which caused a bit of trepidation as Jali was supposed to be at work that night and when we stopped outside his place of employment he was still wet, ok, he’d changed into his suit whilst in the mini-van, but at least we got him there on time.
And when we finally got back to Fajikunda it was in the middle of a power cut, and we found Awa, back from work, sitting in the middle of the compound with a candle for company…
Typically as soon as we got back the kids woke up.
It had definitely been one of ‘those’ days.

Thursday, 4 September 2014

EID AL ADHA OR TOBASKI 2013 PART EIGHT: DRESSING UP, EATING OUT, ADVERTISMENTS AND KARAOKE...




And slowly we returned to something like normality…
The twins had finally got their Tobaski outfits, which made the pair of them look absolutely stunning.




Housai’ had received an invite to a works do at one of the top hotels and had decided that she’d take her sister along…
What to wear, that was the question ?
And Little ‘Tapha was finally going to start school again.
I don’t know how it had started, but Haddy and ‘Tapha Kebbeh along with a couple of others had said they would pool resources if the local Islamic School would take him ?
Between them they would pay for uniforms, books and the rest.
This was fine by the school so long as he was of a reasonable standard and he behaved himself.
Well as far as I’m concerned he’s of a reasonable standard but who knows what a school is looking for these days ?
Whatever it is, he managed to pass the test and so from next term he’s going.
That is a weight off everybody’s mind, mine included.

It's school uniform next 'Tapha...
He’s a very bright lad, and ok, he would have to start in the younger year but his natural intelligence should get him back to his own peer group within eighteen months at the most at a good guess ?
He seems pleased about the idea anyway, so I think they’ve done the right thing by getting him in.
And Haddy and I are now off to Banjul to see Uncle Pa.

When we go we always see him at his office and today would be no exception.
So off we went, up to the main road, and caught the first mini-bus that could fit us in.
It’s such a small world sometimes because we sat next to my drummer friend Hadim’s sister and her little girl, who for some reason took in instant shine to me and started playing…
Most of the little ones are ok with me once they realise a. I’m a different colour, and b. Whatever hair I have left is real, but this one decided that sitting on my lap and poking me in the eye was infinitely more preferable than doing it to her Mum who just let her get on with it, while she and Haddy caught up on the usual women’s stuff.
We parted at Banjul.
They were going shopping, but I reckon we’ll see them later when we hit the market…

Pa has invited us out.
He’ll be round for us this evening.
Apparently we are going for a meal and then we’re off to a Karaoke bar ?
Hmmm….
Gambian karaoke eh ?
That’ll be different.
So we left Pa at work and hit the market…
Baddou’s in, but Hadim isn’t as yet but he’s expected.
Guess who else we bumped into ?
What do you reckon.
Could I get a job as an unregistered child-minder (that’s baby-sitter to you…) ?

Babysitting in Banjul craft market
Apparently so long as she has her (empty) cigarette lighter to suck, she’s fine.
Before anyone thinks that is irresponsible, she’s had it for a couple of months now, and apart from sleeping, won’t go anywhere without it.
I didn’t do too badly, as she only cried when she dropped it…
The word seems to have travelled as now Hadim, Makumba and Doudou have arrived and as usual the talk turns to the band.
They are still stuck for the money to record the second album.
If there was only some way of helping them then I would, but this trip is going to put us back to zero in the bank balance department.
Still, they are getting a few gigs at some of the hotels and that’s good.
Ok, it’s a fixed rate, and they have always refused so far to ‘pass the bucket’ but at least they have been selling a few cd’s to the tourists.
It’s better than nothing and it keeps them in a ‘ready’ condition.
It’s soul destroying knowing that there’s this seriously good band of musicians who just want to play their music for people and who are totally stuck because of money and poli-t(r)icks.
But they are still going, still taking it to as many places that they can within their own country and still looking to bring Gambian music to as many people that will listen.
And it IS Gambian music, make no mistake about that.
It’s NOT Senegalese.
It’s NOT Malian.
It’s not a mixture of this, that and the other.
Put purely and simply, it’s Gambian, and it deserves a far greater exposure than it gets.
Ok, this is an advertisement but what the fuck do I care ?
IF THERE IS A BRITISH, EUROPEAN OR AMERICAN AGENT LOOKING FOR A SERIOUSLY GOOD ‘WORLD MUSIC’ BAND then please get in touch with this guy here, via his web-page…


 http://makumba-nyass.jimdo.com/makumba-nyass/ or you can contact me via this'ere blog and I'll put you in touch.
Or if you are just a casual reader then please buy a copy of their first album 'Duniyaa' because that would help them get some money for their second one.
Front sleeve

















Rear sleeve




















In the meantime we’ll do what we can via advertising and putting the word out.
Sad to leave them as always, but we have to go home and get ready for going out.
This is going to be interesting…

When we get back we find that cousin Tony has arrived from Senegal on a buying trip.





There’s going to be even less room in the house now as he’ll be sleeping on the sofa.
Oh well, whatever ?










But at least the twins have decided on what to wear tonight when they go out.
They’ve decided on European dress and have picked the two dresses that started the whole ‘send it to The Gambia’ scenario.

To be fair to them they look great when wearing them...

Pa arrives at the time he said he would, which is unusual to say the least.
Not that Pa is usually late, but this is The Gambia and everybody is usually late !!!
Apparently we are heading for Kololi, and a restaurant opposite the Palma Rima Hotel which is Pa’s usual eating place when he takes people out.
There’s a simple reason for this…
The food is good
So as soon as he walks in, he’s greeted by all the waiters, the chef, the assistant manager (because the manager is having an evening off) the bar staff and pretty much fifty per-cent of the other patrons.
Yep.  He’s definitely a regular…
After asking the chef what he recommends this evening,  Haddy and I forsake meat and go for the prawns in garlic sauce, and while we eat Pa regales us with tales from his recent trip to Rome and The Vatican with his church group.

Prawns in garlic sauce




It definitely passes the time because Pa is a practicing Christian and he’s also a witty raconteur and the couple of hours we spend there while he plies me with ever more Julbrew before, during and after the meal, seems to fly by.
Pa drinks beer but he prefers the continental lagers.
I’ve always reckoned that when you’re in another country then drink the local stuff rather than the premium priced imports.
Right, meal over, stagger to the car knowing that I really shouldn’t have any more Julbrew, and head off to the karaoke bar…
Haddy’s fine because she just stuck to tonic water.
Sensible girl, my wife.

We get to the karaoke bar which isn’t that far away and is called Churchill’s.
It’s run by an English guy name of Tony who has a propensity for belting out old Cliff Richard tunes, specifically The Young Ones…

Tony giving it some welly...
More Julbrew arrives.
This is getting silly because I’ve asked Pa not to get me another, so finally I’ve put my foot down.
Last one, and I’m not joking.
It was entertaining, I’ll give it that.
Most of the tourists are too pissed and can’t sing for shit, but they are happy to get up and make total twats of themselves.
One girl who decided to ‘do’ or should that be ‘do over’ Meatloaf’s ‘Dead Ringer for Love’ nearly made me laugh out loud…
The Gambians who have a go seem to be mostly female and on the lookout for men.
At one point Tony came over and greeted Pa whom he obviously knows, and asked us what we did ?
I just told him I book acts for a rock festival back in the UK.
It’s not all I do, but it’s good enough when I’m in a karaoke bar.
He asked me what I thought and I actually said ‘You want me to be honest, I’ve got three little girls who can sing better than most of this lot…’
To be fair to him, he laughed and said I should bring them along.
I don’t think so.
Whilst I realise that they are going to have to start somewhere, I don’t think Churchill’s is the best place for them.
To be fair to Tony after I’d written off the talents of his customers, he got one of his staff to bring us another drink ‘on the house’.


Oh Gawd !
Another Julbrew.
I’m gonna be pissing rivers when we get home.

Time to go, and Pa is taking us to another bar.
This one apparently has ‘live’ music.
Well, it has a band belting out chart hits from about a year ago, I’ll give it that.
The band isn’t too bad if you like formulaic versions of chart toppers.
Looking around me it is obvious that this place and Churchill’s are on a ‘circuit’.
You go to one and then move on to the other.
I wonder how many others are on it ?
Some of those people we saw at Churchill’s are now turning up here, including the woman who murdered Meatloaf…
The problem seems to be that she’s had at least one too many alcoholic beverages and is now grabbing hold of anything, tables, chairs, men, women, pillars… Whatever she can get hold of, to stay on her feet.
It is definitely not a pretty sight.
The Brit’s at play…
Wherever you go in this world, you can’t escape them.
But all good things have to end sometime, and it’s finally time to leave.
Pa takes us back to Fagikunda through minimal traffic at that time of night, and I fall into bed.
According to my wife she went to the bathroom and came back to find me fast asleep.
Well if she’d drunk eight Julbrew, she’d probably be absolutely ‘sparko’ too ?