As I am expanding my radius in Jo’burg, I went to Maboneng Sunday market (a.k.a. Market on Main) in the company of my flat mate Tuğçe. What a lovely place with nice stuff to buy (I did, a shirt), and plenty of food stands. My main objective though was drumming. My friend Vuyi had told me there would be drummers there, and so I was excited to see for myself, and perhaps to join in. After all I had just bought myself a drum here, though thought wise to leave it at home for this first visit. When our taxi passed by a group of drummers on lively Fox Street I told him to stop. We’d arrived – obviously! I did enjoy the drumming going on there, and later hijacked a drum and played some myself (see below).
On my way from Livingstone to Germanland, I quickly stopped over in Jo’burg, and thanks to Vuyi (enkosi!), I could not only drop a lot of my stuff here, but also enjoyed my first night out in the big city. I was impressed by the skyline at night – where can you see anything like this in Africa? (only partly a rhetorical question) We enjoyed jazz pianist Yonela Mnana in a bar that was called, well, Kama Sutra, seedy names for some of their dishes included. But don’t get funny ideas, it’s a really nice bar. It was on this night that I realized I would be living in a major metropolis for the next six months (greater Jo’burg has 9 million people). The thought scared me somewhat, which did not exactly alleviate any worries about this town’s notoriety for crime and violence. And on the way back we saw police with firearms walking into a compound. Most likely a burglary. Welcome Johannesburg!
After getting stranded for one day at Dar es-Salaam airport due to technical problems of our Air Malawi carrier, I arrive in Lilongwe and am being picked up by my old friend Chimwemwe. She’ll be my guide and companion for some trips through this charming country, the so-called “Warm heart of Africa”.
My decisive song for Malawi is Lawi’s “Life is beautiful” (another hotel-room recording):
I encountered it for the first time three years ago, when I first attended the Lake of Stars Festival, and it hass always intrigued me with its emphasis on the beauty and joy of life in Africa. This is important. Joy, in chiChewa chimwemwe, like the name of my friend. I have seen few places during my travels, or even less so back home, with so much joy as here in Malawi. Against all odds, one should say. Continue reading →
When I realized that entering Tanzania overland from Rwanda was going to be difficult, amongst other things because visas are not issued at the border, and also considering the size of the country and costs involved in entering the Serengeti or Ngorongoro, I decided to deviate from my plan, took a flight to Dar es-Salaam and cut my stay short. After all, I wanted to attend a festival in Malawi in early November, and it felt like I’m running out of time. Seriously? Anyway, my plans changed, I planned on two weeks only in Tanzania. Air Rwanda was as impressive as Rwanda itself, and the flight was truly pleasant. On that note, I’ve come to love the airport announcement tinched in heavy Bantu r/l-mixups that wish you a “prresent frright” instead of a “pleasant flight”, that’s what it sounds like anyway.
The biggest surprise so far! But slowly … Coming in from Kabale in southern Uganda, already the border police gave me the sense of correctness that would prevail through the rest of my stay in Rwanda. Driving at 60km/h, the maximum speed in the country, and for once on the right side of the road again, our bus arrived towards evening at Kigali’s Nyabugogo bus station. Since my request to be picked up had apparently not been heard, I was left at the hustle and bustle of a big African bus station, where many a dodgy looking guy is seeking his fortune from a rather clueless mzungu. It was easy enough for me though to shake most of them off quite quickly, except for one who clung to my heels as I tried to negotiate the buses, taxis and touts at the various bus stops. Helped by a guy from an internet café, I took a cab and off we went towards Murugo hostel. On the way there, I was surprised by boda-boda drivers who were actually wearing a helmet, and indeed had a helmet for passengers as well (and would insist you wear it, as I later learnt)! And almost miraculously, coming from Uganda at least, there were lots of traffic lights, on major roads with countdowns for the green light, and on major roads the corners were equipped with LEDs on the curb. Just wow! Still, the layout of the town is rather difficult, even for a local taxi driver, since most roads are numbered, and the best thing to do is to know a landmark building nearby. I later learnt that the one relevant for my hostel was the Ministry of Agriculture, though no boda-boda (here called “moto”) or taxi driver knew it by this name, nor by its French version, but only as Minagri. The habit of abbreviating words may have been inherited from the French, though that language has been largely abandoned in official contexts in 2007, and relationships with France are complicated, to put it mildly.
You easily remember Oryema once you have seen a recent picture of him: blond dreads, and a hint of a blond tach. Now that’s something you don’t get to see often. I admit I am not a fan, unlike when it comes to his music. A true revelation for me, immediately reminiscent of Ayub Ogada, and thus it didn’t come as a surprise to me when I learnt that the two collaborated on some pieces.
ding my radius in Jo’burg, I went to Maboneng Sunday market (a.k.a. Market on Main) in the company of my flat mate Tuğçe. What a lovely place with nice stuff to buy (I did, a shirt), and plenty of food stands. My main objective though was drumming. My friend Vuyi had told me there would be drummers there, and so I was excited to see for myself, and perhaps to join in. After all I had just bought myself a drum here, though thought wise to leave it at home for this first visit. When our taxi passed by a group of drummers on lively Fox Street I told him to stop. We’d arrived – obviously! I did enjoy the drumming going on there, and later hijacked a drum and played some myself (see below).
