Kartong Festival

The Kartong Festival has come and gone. Definitely one of the most interesting experiences I've ever had. I took on a somewhat significant volunteering role at the festival- helping sell tickets, and organize shifts for other volunteers to do the same. I was fortunate to witness some of the most incredible drumming and dancing I've ever seen, and some very interesting theatrical performances accompanied by drums.

The festival usually started a little after seven each of the four evenings- although I think the schedule indicated that it would begin at six...no surprise there. On two of the evenings, the PA system wasn't even set up until about the third performance. Each night, I usually worked the first two hours at the ticket booth. Afterwards, I would walk across the street from the booth into the school grounds where the festival was held, and look for Fansu, Lamin, or another friend from the staff at Halahin, and enjoy an evening of performances. Over the past couple of weeks, I have had the pleasure of being around an absolutely wonderful group of people from England who came for the festival. Within this group of about 15-20 was a sabar drumming ensemble featuring traditional music from the Senegambian region. The sabar ensemble, in general, consists of multiple drums, all of different sizes, and are played with one bare hand, while the other grasps a small stick. The English group is called Sankofa, and has worked extensively with Modou Diouf, a very accomplished drummer based in Brikama. Sankofa took two workshops per day from Modou at Halahin starting at the time of their arrival, two weeks prior to the festival. They departed yesterday *tear:*( They also performed at the festival on Sunday. It was quite interesting to watch and listen to the reaction of the locals! It was also interesting to watch Modou, the way he would interact with the audience- a very energetic man, and pleasant to be around as well. As I said, the PA system wasn't set up for quite a while after the performances started on Sunday and Monday, which I think would've been more helpful for Modou during the performance. Here in Gambia, nothing seems to go according to schedule. You just sort of have to expect the unexpected, go with the flow of things, and not be too attached to a particular expectation.

As far as my work at the ticket booth was concerned, here's what it was like in a nutshell...THere were usually two or three of the UK group at a time, standing inside a small, empty shop with swing doors held open by rocks. We stood behind a table that blocked off the entryway completely, and placed peoples money inside a drawer below the table, or sometimes into a large yellow bucket. The shop faced the school grounds from across the street. The first two nights, we were selling tickedts to everyone, including children, which became a huge problem, as they would suspectingly pass their tickets onto adults, which would even further, be passed back over the walls that enclosed the school grounds, to be used again. The person at the door didn't appear to be checking the ticket differentiation very carefully...what can you do. Standing behind the table for the first two days was interesting. The children would rush the table with a five dalasi bill in hopes of getting a ticket, pushing and shoving their way up to the table. Originally, the idea was that all children would be charged 10D, but many were coming up with only five, or less, and wigh the influence of a few locals, were able to get the priced pushed down to five, given that they were below a certain height. To solve the problem of children passing their tickets onto adults, beginning on Sunday, we would give children a stamp on the hand rather than a paper ticket, which they would have to show at the door in order to get in. With the adults, we would take the tickets entirely upon entry. We also had uniformed soldiers at both the door and the ticket booth to help with the chaos. At the booth, the soldier would often help us by moving a child up to the table, where we would take their money, stamp their hand, and send them on their way, leaving some with an expression of shock as they walked away without a ticket! It was quite humorous on one occasion inparticular when Moriba stood alongside the soldier, turning children away who were just loitering or didn't have enough money for a ticket. I was a bit surprised on one instance when the soldier whipped the belt off of his waist and threattened the children, who promptly moved away from the table.

I must say that this whole weekend has really loosened up a lot of fears that I have been holding previously throughout my time in Gambia. I can't remember how many times I was approached by people, either while walking around the school grounds, or just standing, watching a performance. "Hey! Where are you from? Is this your first time in Gambia? Welcome to the smiling coast! (a very accurate statement)" Most of the time, I wouldn't hesitate to converse with these friendly folk, although I would usually avoid the "Hey you! I want to talk to you!" Or the ones that would come towards me as a I was walking by. My sense was that these guys only wanted to sell me something. And even so, a couple would be very friendly and happy to chat with you even if you didn't want to purchace anything. One particular case was funy when I got lured into talking with someone "giving" away necklaces containing "sacred spirits" from a local crocodile pool. The young man said he wouldn't charge me anything, slowly progressing into saying that we would take anything I could give. Before I could refuse, he quickly slipped the item around my neck and demanded 200D! Very firm and friendly, I explained to him that I didn't have 200D to give, and pulled out 15 that I had in one of my side pockets (about 0.75 US) telling him it was all I had. He told me that this wasn't enough, at which point I said I'd give the necklace back. He then went back to his original statement, which validated my 15D gift. We then talked for a short bit, and parted ways in a very peaceful manner. Firm and friendly is the way of dealing with solicitors and overly friendly folks that you just don't want to talk to. Although in some cases, there are those who will be more aggressive, especially towards foreign women. This was quite the case for some of the women from the group that I was staying with at Halahin. One night towards the end, it was quite evident that a few of the males, drunk beyond the ability to comprehend, were hassling a couple of the younger women standing not far from me. I tried to help by jumping in and talking to the hagglers....."nice to be nice! peace and love! my american brother!" hehe.
Monday night, the final night of the festival, there was a disco at Halahin following the concerts. It was a very loud evening, and I didn't get much sleep. Other than that I had a wonderful time, and was very happy about being able to hang with a very friendly group of English, and my good friends that work at Halahin.
I played a lot of kora today. Moriba showed me a couple new pieces, and I feel a little more focused than I did during the festival.

Until next time...