Verbalism Personified

WOMAD Saturday!

Almost never happened.

It was one of those last minute decisions. Kate, who had been primed to the event one week before, was geared up and ready for action. However due to work and a mild case of indecisiveness, Susan finally made up her mind over drinks at Wala Wala.

It's no fun slogging all week only to come out into a void on the weekend. Kate and I were ready for beer and dancing. My friends had already gone on ahead and parked themselves comfortably with their blankets and hampers on Fort Green. These hard-core WOMADites were determined to pick out the best spots as they had bought into an entire WOMAD weekend.

As for us, having no tickets wasn't an issue. They were still selling at the Gothic Gate, albeit at a slightly higher price than the combo admission. With four performance acts and Heiniken beer flowing like the rivers of Babylon, this was just too good to pass up.

For the next five hours, Modeste Hugues, Hamid Baroudi, Zap Mama and Daara J belted out that their special blend of Afrian, Middle Eastern, Fusion and Reggie tunes. It waasn't long before the crowd stood up and started swaying to the beat of 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace'. But then, when has it ever not been about 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace'?

Perhaps for popular appeal, dancing under the stars to 'peace' and 'love' is always a welcomed reprive after a clautrophobic week in the office. People want to unwind and forget the troubles of the world and boggie the night away. Copious amounts of alcohol makes the infusion of 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace' so much easier. But perhaps a little too much alcohol as I began to feel my head spin.

Privately, it's usually oppressed or marginalized societies that champion 'love', 'harmony' and 'peace'. No doubt predictably, much of the in-between-song dialogues were about humanity and the general opposition to all forms of conflict. I have nothing against the desire for a better world but at the same time acknowledge that reality is less than ideal for now. But to ridicule or vilify a politician just because it's fashionable or that 'you don't like it' without constructive alternatives, is just tiresome. This has no place at a multi-cultural gathering celebrating the better aspects of humanity.

Spotting Priscilla and her friends in the crowd, I ploughed over nearly toppling several revelers. But most were too infused with goodwill to care. There were some who objected with frowns but quick apologies made short work of whatever ill intent they were formulating.

Priscilla had just arrived and had made good in locating her companions with her cellphone. Drowning in loud music, conversation was naturally quite useless. Giving up on trying to shout at each other, we exchanged hugs and cheek-smacking before plouging my way back to Kate. Greeted with her raised eyebrow, I offered a sheepish smile.

One surprising addition this year were the Apple technicians and their white logoed T-shirts crowding at the control tent. Every performance act featured a Powerbook but more disguised were the xRaids stashed behind the stage. I wondered about the choice of storage medium when DAT would have been just as efficient. Post-concert processing could be done later at a studio. And given that no WOMAD performance has ever been released on CD or video, what could all that storage have been used for?

Retreating up to Fort Canning Centre for much needed water and a sit, the pangs of hunger came knocking. These pesky little groans come when you've just expended all your energy dancing. So making our way back to Holland Village, the vantage point for all three of us, we alternatived to Crystal Jade. Original Sin was first on our list but we had so lost track of time that we assumed they would still be open.

Hot soup, noodles, dumbplings and tea made good on what we were craving for. My alcohol-inflicted head-spin subsided, while Kate and Susan brought their taste buds back to life in a perfect receipe to wash the week away.

posted by Teutoburg @ 11:35 PM