Yesterday was one of those rare days when everything seems to come together perfectly, the kind of day that reminds me why I’m here and why, despite how difficult it’s been for me to be away from home, I will really miss it here when all is said and done.
First, I had an interview with the director of the National Orchestra. We were supposed to meet yesterday, but after waiting for an hour and a half, I gave up and went back home. He texted me later with his apologies and we rescheduled for today. Anyway, he was incredibly generous with his time today and we had a great interview. He told me all about the history of the orchestra, its mission, its repertoire, etc. Basically, the main role of the orchestra is to safeguard traditional Senegalese music. All of the pieces they play have been written down and are archived in a library (I haven’t seen it yet so I don’t know if the “library” is really someone’s living room or something), with repertoire from all of Senegal’s ethnic groups. The orchestra’s instrumentation is primarily traditional instruments such as the balafon (a xylophone made with calabash resonators), kora (a harp with a large calabash resonator), tama (a small talking drum – it has strings you squeeze to change the tension and therefore the pitch of the drum), sabar (the drum of the Wolof griots), and xalam (a traditional lute made with goat skin and wood). But the group also performs what the Senegalese call “variété,” which is kind of the equivalent of orchestral “pops” programs. So in addition to the traditional instruments they have saxophone, flute, trumpet, bass, drums (drum set, I mean), piano, and guitar. The orchestra is as much pan-African as it is national, because they accompany the big African music stars who come to Senegal, be they from Cameroon (Manu Dibango), Benin (Angelique Kidjo), Mali (Oumou Sangaré), etc. When these musicians come in, they either bring recordings or written parts with them and the orchestra players either transcribe the music or read it down, and work with the guest musician to get the style / sound just right.
Then, it just so happened that at the end of our interview one of the orchestra’s saxophonists came in, and the director introduced me to him. He was excited to meet another saxophonist and the director invited me to sit in with him (the saxophonist) at their rehearsal on Thursday! I might even get to play on their Friday night concert – we’ll see (or as they say here, Inshalla). And, in even more of a coincidence, the saxophonist told me that he had already heard about me a) because there aren’t many other toubab saxophonist chicks around town, b) because they know most of the musicians I’ve played with, but also c) because of Tabou! Remember Tabou, my friend from November / December, the guitarist – singer/songwriter who invited me to her family’s Tabaski celebration? Well, it turns out that the saxophonist I met was her guitar / voice teacher when she was taking lessons at the Douta Seck Cultural Center! Small world. He told me that she’s no longer working in Mauritania and is now in Gambia. He thinks she’ll be back in Dakar sometime in June – it’d be nice to see her again!
I walked home feeling happy that the interview had gone well and also that I have a new playing opportunity to look forward to. I got home with just enough time to shower (the heat’s come back, which means that a 15 minute walk outside merits a good, cold shower) before I was to meet up with my friend Balla, the baay faal I told you about a while back (he’s the one who, in a photo I posted back in Nov/ Dec, looks slightly Rasta with the grey dreads). I met him at the Gouye Gi, the giant baobab from which my neighborhood gets its name. (Gouye Gi is just “baobab” in Wolof.) At first I had a moment of panic when I realized we had had a slight misunderstanding: I thought we were planning on going out to lunch somewhere so I asked him where he wanted to go. And he looked at me a little confused and said, “You haven’t prepared something?” And I realized that he thought I was having him over for lunch at my place and that I had cooked something for him!!! MERDE! When he realized that I had misunderstood he said it was fine if we went to a restaurant instead, but I felt badly and wanted to be a good hostess. So, I bought a few things on the way home and installed him on the couch with some fresh orange slices and some juice, and I went into the kitchen to frantically prepare something edible.
Given the intimidating talent of Senegalese hostesses, I didn’t even bother trying to make a local dish. No way. Fortunately, Matt and I have in our repertoire a very easy Moosewood recipe, “Caribbean Black Beans.” It’s quite easy and takes no time at all. So I cooked some rice and while that was going I cut a bunch of onions which of course made me cry but I got over it, then some garlic. I let that sauté for a while, then drained two cans of beans – normally you use just black beans but I had one black and one red, so I decided, what the hell? It wouldn’t have been enough beans otherwise, if I just used one or the other. So I drained those and dumped those in, and then added the special ingredient: orange juice. Unfortunately the other special ingredients are ginger, which I could not find, and some spices which we didn’t have. So I improvised with a little Maggi, a kind of all-purpose liquid seasoning people use here – a little soy-saucy, a little Worcestershire-saucy, plus some salt and pepper. I test-tasted the sauce: not bad at all! So, in the end I didn’t end up having to leave Balla alone for too long – maybe 20 minutes. And while stuff was simmering I stuck my head in to visit every now and then. It was a little tricky going back and forth into and out of the kitchen, though, because that’s where Saly, the housekeeper, sits to do the ironing. So she had to keep getting up to let me through, but she didn’t mind. After lunch I made ataya, traditional Senegalese tea, which I’ve gotten pretty good at making, if I do say so myself. Saly had some too and she told me it tasted Senegalese-enough to her. Yay! I’ll be sure to make some for people when I get home…
So, Balla and I had a great visit as always and he told me about some recent projects (a festival celebrating Bob Marley’s birthday) and some upcoming ones (he’s trying to convert an old water reservoir that’s been defunct for half a century into a cultural center with a nice stage, classrooms, exhibition space, etc). One of Balla’s missions is the decentralization of cultural events in Senegal - that is to say, spreading the events further afield than Dakar. He also listened to a recording of my band, Yid Vicious, and we discussed the possibility of YV collaborating with him on some performances / projects in Rufisque and other outlying areas in the future. So if we get the opportunity to come over, we all have a welcome spot at Balla’s place! His house is pretty much like an artist’s colony – there are always touring musicians and other artists staying at his place while they’re in town. So, we’ll see!
So, that was my day. Tomorrow I have another interview, this one with a retired professor. Thursday I have my rehearsal with the National Orchestra, and possibly an interview with one of the singers in Orchestra Baobab either Thursday or Friday. Sunday I plan to go to Balla’s in Rufisque to help him with some paperwork he needs to put together to try to get a visa to go to Holland. His wife is Dutch, and they got married in Senegal. Therefore, their marriage is not official in Holland, unfortunately. So far his attempts to get a visa to go there have failed, and because she has a job she can’t leave, it means that they see each other less than if he could be free to visit her instead of her always having to visit him. I sympathized with his plight, knowing how much it sucks to be separated from your spouse, so I told him I’d be happy to help him with some paperwork – for example, he has to show them a CV to prove that he’s not a schlemp who will suck up all of their resources, or something to that effect. Unfortunately, his appearance as a baay fall, with his patchwork clothes and dreadlocks, have been received negatively by the visa employees on past attempts; he said they wouldn’t even look at most of his paperwork – they would just look him up and down and then stamp a big “NOPE” on his file (well, maybe not “Nope” exactly but to that effect). So, hopefully with a spruced up CV and some letters from people in high places here in Dakar, he’ll be able to convince them he has a right to see his wife in Holland, for God’s sake. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for him.
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