Surrealism and Me

This is gonna be a short and focussed update since I've been drumming for 5 hours today and it feels like someome dropped a house on my hands. I just want to relate the tale of this friday night, which was one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

It all started with Francois, my drum teacher, drummer in Hewale sounds, and all around good guy. He tells us "Hewale has a performance tonight, why not come?", and tells us the venue - a hotel, which we didn't find remarkable at the time - without much more info. We say it sounds good. So, at 6:30, off we go to La Palm Royal hotel, which turns out to be on the beach. What's more, when we get there the size of the gate alone tells me it's a fancy hotel. And how. When we get inside, we find that it's the sort of place that could be anywhere except for things like the patterns on the curtains, withe prices like it's America or Holland. I feel like something's odd here, but we're there for Hewale so we push forward. Oh, and it's important to note that it's hurricane-esque weather outside.

So after going through a rather long corridor to the conference hall (it was a damned big hotel!) we get there and realize that this isn't really a Hewale Sounds concert. No sir, it's a fashion show, and a rather highbrow one too. The tickets, we're told, are 250000 cedis (25ish euro) - a hell of a lot here. We decide it's not for us, and start to walk away... and this busybody type guy comes up and asks us where we're going, offering to get us in. I feel like something's even weirder now, and like we'd be intruding, but I'm in the minority so we end up getting in for free(!) after promising to give him some contact info. So we're escorted into a fancy conference hall, which is mostly empty at that point. Our friends in Hewale are secluded in a corner, not really on a stage - I guess they were sort of a side attraction - so we move from the seats we were put in to that corner. By this point the situation seems kind of comical - we're a bunch of scruffy western college kids sitting in a classy hotel getting free drinks and watching neotraditional African music before a big fashion show. I feel more out of place there than in any unfamiliar Ghanain situation - I know this kind of place all too well, and avoid them mostly. I probably wouldn't have been let in if this were somewhere else - I'm wearing a T-shirt from the band who recorded "Let's Steal Everything", for god's sake!

So we're sitting there, acknowledging the absurdity of the situation but enjying the free drinks and the fantastic music. The music is a bit off though - it's a good lesson about the importance of context, really, what with the acoustics dulling the interplay of the xylophones with the guitar, the microphones making the atenteben sound really artificial, and most of all the lack of dancing and audience excitement. It's weird, but still great. Then the lights go out. That's right, the big fancy hotel had its power knocked out in the storm. You'd think they have a generator, but there's just a few emergency lights on. Hewale continue playing like nothing's changed. I actually feel more comfortable in the dark - that way I can forget where I am and focus on the music. Soon enough Hewale slow down a bit (probably getting bored with the stale atmosphere) so we decide to head out (skipping the fashion show). Somehow our busybody benefactor notices us going, and gets us to write down names and email addresses (claiming he wants to watch the world cup with us or some such). I slip out with James when he's not looking (without giving my info) and wait out front so James can smoke a cig, getting wet in the insane wind and rain.

The lobby is a weird scene - people running in soaking wet, others not sure where to go since the lights are out, but the reception absolutely normal, people arriving for the show, and the pianist at the restaurant and the restaurant itself going on like nothing's happening. We wait a bit, and then Jordan comes out and finds us, saying Rachel and Mysteena are hungry so we're going to sit at the restaurant a bit. We go and sit a bit, with those two apparently having ordered bread; it's really feeling like some bad movie concept at this point. We order drnks, and wonder where the bread is, so we ask. We're told "We don't serve bread here, try the other restaurant", so we're a bit perplexed - Rachel goes to find some. We start on a very odd conversation - topics include the physics of the atenteben and why James is blind enough that he probably shouldn't be allowed to drive - and Rachel comes back with some bread she was able to scrounge up. A few minutes later, after we've been in this crazy conversation long enough not to be weirded out by our surroundings, the lights suddenly come back on. Turns out we're sitting in the middle of a fancy Asian restaurant - sushi buffet and all - with just a bunch of drinks and a plate of bread, looking incredibly lost. We want to get out of there ASAP, so we drink up, and the waitress gets mad at us for being in the restaurant and not ordering food. We eventually get out and have to brave the storm to try to return home. We first try to get a taxi, but we need two and none are stopping so we decide to relocate. We cross the road, which is more of a lake by now, and almost get hit by an empty tro-tro (minibus) which we then hire to take us home. After another crazy conversation, I realize we're at my junction and hop out just in time to narrowly avoid getting run down by a police car. I make my way up to my house, and manage to get by the guard dogs, and finally can relax. It feels like it's been an eternity, but it turns out the whole thing finished before 10:30 - before I'd even be going out in Utrecht.

That was a night to remember.

I'll post a more substantive update tomorrow; I just wanted to record the madness of Friday night. Saturday was quite wild too, but that's a story for another day.