Things are starting to get pretty busy.  Since my last post, I met with the Cultural Director of the Renaissance Monument (this was where all of the best jazz concerts were held during FESMAN) and her father, also a former employee of the Ministry of Culture and a retired professor.  Unfortunately, the directions I was given were not immediately clear to me (turn right at palm tree, pass the street that goes to the post office, etc), so I had to call him probably 10 times en route to ask for more specific directions.  Ultimately we both gave up and I sat on the steps of a nearby bank while his daughter Fatou came to rescue the wandering toubab.  After that embarassment was shelved away (pretty immediately, because of their instant warmth and hospitality), I visited with the two of them and explained my project in more detail.  Both father and daughter have academic backgrounds and understand all that's involved in putting a thesis together, so they were particularly eager to help.  Mr. Diop, the dad / retired professor, spoke with me at length about his experiences with the festival past and present (he was Wole Soyinka's guide for FESMAN I, and during FESTAC (Fesman II) in Lagos, he presented a scientific paper but, more importantly, hung out at FELA KUTI'S COMPOUND!!).  His daughter gave me a present of a huge packet of information from FESMAN III - all sorts of things I hadn't seen before that were just for organizers.  She said she didn't need it because she had duplicate copies, so I got to keep the whole packet!  I thanked her profusely and she reminded me that she, too, had written a thesis and remembers how difficult it was so she was happy to help.  Fatou has to be the nicest person EVER - she was super sweet.  And so was Madame Diop, whom I met briefly.  And Mr. Diop, of course.  All of them were really great and made the whole interview experience go well (I am often nervous before interviews in a way that I never am before performances - I'm not sure why). 

I mentioned in my last post that I was invited to go to the National Orchestra's rehearsal on Thursday, so I showed up at the Maison Culturel Douta Seck and listened my way to where the musicians were.  There were several outside - one of them was William, Dakar's / Senegal's best violinist and a longtime friend of my friend Bambi.  Inside a tiny room that looked sort of like a dusty old storage room in a decrepid high school band basement (but on the first floor), I found Thierno, the saxophonist I had met the other day.  Apparently this was the orchestra's rehearsal space.  I found this to be a particular shame because President Wade has just opened a new Grand Theatre funded by the Chinese, and in my personal opinion (which is in agreement with all of the orchestra musicians I spoke with) the National Orchestra, of all groups, should be based there instead of in a room that's falling apart!  These are some of the country's finest musicians, after all.  Thierno introduced me to some of them:  Vieux Keita, the balfonist / drummer; Cheikh Cisse, the guitarist, Alioune Ndiaye Taxuran, the xalam player, and Alassane Cisse, the bass player and orchestra leader.  There didn't seem to be any kind of organized rehearsal happening and Thierno explained that it was because the power was out.  With so many electric instruments - guitar, amp'd violin, keyboards, bass, - they preferred to just wait it out.  It didn't come back on the whole time I was there.  Some people used the time to practice, others to smoke and chat, and others to hang out with the toubab saxophone lady. 
Several took the opportunity to teach me some tunes - so I learned "Adjuma" by Alioune, the xalam player, and then I learned two Serer tunes by Cheikh Cisse, the guitarist - the first was "Tonkiye" ("Children") and the second was "Serer yenda bokku yaay et abba" (We Serer are all family (all of one father and one mother))".  I found the Serer melodies to be especially beautiful - a strange combination of both melancholy and joy. 
So I stayed with the orchestra musicians for quite a while, then went back home and rested a bit before going to L'Endroit in the evening.  William, the violinist, had invited me to sit in with him and his salsa band at l'Endroit.  I was excited to have a new playing invitation, and it was to be my first of two gigs that evening because the other day I had been invited by a guitarist from a different group to play with him at a club up in the Almadies.  So I got to the first club and was feeling psyched to do some playing.  I got my horn out and put it on my stand and then got up to go to the bathroom.  And just then, as I stood up, I somehow managed to graze my leg against my horn and... it toppled over.  It was one of those moments which keeps re-appearing in slow motion over and over again as if I could go back and undo it, but of course you never can...  I picked it up and inspected the damage.  At first glance, it didn't look completely totaled.  But of course, saxophones are fragile creatures and when I tried to play it, it became immediately clear that I was not going to be doing any more gigging any time soon.  I could only get 2-3 notes to come out.  Needless to say, I was crushed.  Playing is the salve that helps me stay sane while being far away from home.  I couldn't imagine going the whole rest of my time here without playing!!!   It was a very sad evening, indeed.  William was sad for me and immediately called Theirno, the saxophonist.  Thierno told me to come see him the next morning and he'd take a look at it.  He said he'd either fix it himself or else we could take it to the guy he goes to.  With a plan in place for the next morning, I decided I may as well stay and listen to the music.  It was a FABULOUS salsa band.  Really.  So, that helped lift my chin a little...  But I cancelled my second gig. (That guy was nice, too, and he gave me the number of another saxophonist I could call if I needed any help.  At least this incident is putting me in touch with more local saxophonists!)

The next morning I went to see Thierno and he took a look at my horn.  He could see what was wrong with it and was able to tweak it so I could play a few more notes, but he didn't have the tools necessary to really make much headway.  So then we cabbed over to a military camp on the other side of town, where the one sax repair guy in Dakar (or, at least, the only one anybody I know has ever mentioned) works as some sort of army officer.  He mentioned that we had come at a slightly inconvenient time, it being the Friday prayer call and everything. (I hadn't paid any attention to what time it was - I just wanted to get my horn fixed as soon as possible!) Of course I felt badly about that and insisted that he go to the mosque and we would wait until he came back.  But he insisted back, saying he could go to the mosque AFTER he fixed the horn just as easily as he could before, so I just thanked him and felt guilty.  He brought a shoebox-full of tools and set to work.  Every so often he'd have me test-drive my horn to see if it was any better.  Eventually it was tweaked back into playing condition, although it'll still need another check-up once I get back home - some notes are still a little resistant.  But I was worried I wasn't going to be able to play at all the rest of my time here, so I was excited that the officer guy was able to fix it.  I paid him a small honorarium and thanked him profusely.  Then I went home to rest a little, before going to play in the orchestra concert I thought I was going to have to miss!  So, thanks, Officer Ndieng!!

So last night was the orchestra concert - I hadn't had much of a rehearsal the day before, so I was pretty much winging it.  Nevertheless, I had a really great time.  I met some of the other musicians, most notably my other co-horn sectionist, Lamine Tall (trumpet).  He, Thierno and I were the horn section.  Our repertoire was part jazz, part traditional Senegalese-Jazz hybrid, and part salsa.  It was fun to play new music with new people, and I enjoyed the challenge of having to figure out what to play over new tunes.  And of course we horn-sectionists were awesome, thanks to Theirno and Lamine giving me cues to hits.  At Theirno's insistence I even danced a little in a mini-horn-section choreography - part salsa, part Senegalese.  The salsa part would be the hip action, the Senegalese part the arms-up-in-the-air part.  I am not even passably good at either, but I tried to be a sport.  I figure if nothing else I'd give people a good laugh with my lame toubab moves. 

All in all, a great last couple of days.  William, the violinist, invited me to a family baptism tomorrow, which feels like a sweet gesture and an honor.  So, I cancelled my appointment with Balla, previously scheduled for tomorrow, and rescheduled that for Tuesday.  Balla said he didn't mind.

So, that's all for now - more to come soon!