Namibia weblog 2005
Be sure not to miss the picture of Rosanne doing her Angry Woman Dance.
Other news:
Oshakati’s answer to world music dayJuly 1st 2005 Rosanne writes:
Stretching along another side was a bank of trestle tables adorned by red cloths, to accommodate the umpteen dignitaries who were to give speeches. An enormous woman in full battle combat dress of swathes of African cloth parked herself there immediately and started to read the newspaper.
The VSO heavyweight drumming team slouched by their carved skin-covered drums, but leapt up to greet friends. The mood was that of resigned waiting mixed with performers’ adrenalin. The crowd of puzzled spectators was growing.
Somehow we didn’t feel like practising ourselves. Our dress rehearsal two days before had been perfection. We had assembled at Monika’s house, on her concrete washing-line area, already swept and set out with CD player and jugs of water, and had the most appreciative audience. Her toddler son’s friends in the neighbourhood had all gathered, aware of an event. When we started to dance they all collapsed in howls of laughter and then started copying us and shrieking. We were thoroughly revved up by such enthusiasm and danced, swirled, spun, gyrated, twisted, clapped, stamped. The boys joined in – some in our line, some in front of us, staggering hopelessly or getting it exactly right. We had no drums so we shouted out the beat in voice percussion. Of course there wasn’t room for us all and we launched off the concrete into the sand and then fell about laughing. And we had managed four complete run-throughs - and not one without a mistake.
After the speeches…long, dreary, self-important, rabidly opinionated, but all televised; after the drumming; after the fast paced children’s dancing…we were on: Random Dancers. Ours was the first act to use a CD as a backing tape rather than drumming and the crowd was very appreciative, giving huge cheers and clapping. And we were laughing and giving it everything. We made countless mistakes, only noticeable to us. A crowd of friends as photographers recorded us as sassy, sexy, wild. Our energy and delight were high. Doris drummed our second and third dances for us to stamp and swing to – both Zulu dances of a kind – the Warrior Dance and our Angry Woman Dance. We were dizzy with praise. What a mad delight. All in a supermarket car park in Oshakati. More to follow...
Namibia home page Select Ideas |
Oshakati’s answer to world music day was bizarre, but predictably so. It took place in the car park of "Shoprite" supermarket - and involved wild singing and dancing - with Rosanne taking part, of course!
The car park outside Shoprite supermarket had a huge section of it cordoned off by a ring of supermarket trolleys. Inside was our performance area, an uneven surface of blockwork and some manhole covers. At one side there was a small raised stage of wooden pallets and a modest tower of speakers and amplifiers and curling all around was the requisite spaghetti of black wires and important looking technicians loping about, wearing matching t-shirts saying MAN TEAM.
The performers arrived early and huddled together. The queens of local cultural events were the dance troupe, Omaleshe, famously coached by our Zulu dance teacher, Doris. They sat chatting idly and rearranging each other’s braids or jewellery. The newcomers were a rival dance team from the orphans’ soup kitchen, who arrived looking ravishing in little puffy skirts and diamond white spots decorating their faces. They were wide-eyed and fluttered like butterflies.
Our select dance troupe, Random Dancers, had assorted duties. German Angela was very much in charge of the soup kitchen orphans, mothering, smoothing, reassuring. Swiss Monika was enjoying her small sons’ enthusiasm at being on stage and involved in such an event, Swedish Malin and English Rosanne sat where we could find a little bit of shade and enjoyed the spectacle. We watched Doris’ other dance group of oshilumbu, white people, who were six Peace Corps girls, hurrying off to a quiet sandpit behind the public loos to practice their dances.
