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Music in the night
Entry 16 of 25 | show all | print this entry |
So - after leaving Jerome at midday, I set off for Nandom. A bit of a mistake leaving so late, mainly because of the heat, and the condition of the road, which was pretty rough. Not helped by having breakfasted on a couple of beers, either, come to think of it. Still, with only about 40 kilometers to go it wasn't too bad.
When I got there I headed into town to find the Catholic guest house which had been recommended to me, only to find that it had been booked out for the funeral which Doctor Gydere was organising, and which I hoped to attend. Still, I'd passed a quite nice looking, but more expensive guest house on the way into town, so I biked back out to that, and got a room for the night. The only thing was, the next night was full booked out for ... you guessed it, the funeral. Still, it was quite a nice place, so I figured I'd work out what to do the next day, after meeting Dr. Gydere.
The next day was spent sitting in the shade brushing up on my non-existent French, and waiting for the funeral party to arrive. Around 3 pm an ambulance, converted into a hearse, with its siren going and trailed by about 5 four-wheel-drives passed by on the way into town. A bit later, one of the guys at the guest house biked into town with me to go and find the Dr, which we duly did.
After introducing myself to him, I explained that Prof. Poppi had suggested I look him up and pass on his regards. He was quite nice, if somewhat harried by all the people who wanted his attention, and asked where I was staying, whereupon I explained the situation about everything in town being booked out. On hearing this he suggested that I go and talk to one of the priests at the mission, who might be able to find a room for me somewhere. The only problem was that an invitation to the funeral didn't seem to be on offer, and I didn't really want to be rude and bring the matter up myself, so I left it at that, and headed into town to find a place for the night.
When I found the priest he nicely offered me a somewhat spartan room that obviously hadn't been used for a while, and left me to my own devices. A little bit disappointed that things hadn't worked out with the funeral, and kicking myself for not being a bit more forward, I settled in for an early night. However, a few hours later I was woken by the sound of singing, drumming and the local African xylophones (Gyiri, pronounced jiri, a speciality of the area).
I was struck by its sheer African-ness, and couldn't help imagining what it was like to be an early explorer and to hear the music for the first time, especially in a less safe and secure environment.
Although disappointed at not being able to attend the funeral, lying there in the dark listening to the haunting music, with the high pitched chants of the women accompanied by the drums and xylophones certainly had an impact - not a memory that I'm likely to forget quickly.
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