Art and music in Nairobi

One of the things you learn from years of dealing with orchestra people, is that you can turn your back on a person, but never turn your back on an orchestra, especially when it's waving a well tuned violin in your eye.

This was the lesson we momentarily forgot a few weeks ago, and how we came to be 'roped' into playing for the Nairobi Orchestra. Three weeks, and three rehearsals later, here we were, in the Oshwal auditorium (an incredibly big Hindu type temple with dead birds inside, built without planning permission, and facing the bulldozers...), nervously awaiting the raising of the baton, and also our first full run through of the pieces whilst the audience swelled to epidemic proportions (they seemed to be everywhere, just like the bats). Soon, bad waves of paranoia, madness, fear and loathing.

Edd was on first, with the Magnificat, by Jonathan Wilcox, a fiendishly difficult piece, which deserved far more respect than two and a bit rehearsals. The first 6 notes were fine, but then we found our vibrations were getting nasty. But why? Is there no communication in this orchestra? (What does one expect from a piece of music with time signatures that change every bar - six-eight, seven-eight, four-four, three-four, etc). Fortunately, Bill, a stonkingly good first trumpet came to the rescue and pulled the brass section together.  The second half we were both playing in 'The Many Moods of Christmas' (oh my goodness, there were many). Once again, some bits of this were strangely unfamiliar to everyone, but it was rocking none the less, with strategic silent points to build suspense! Well done strings. Jo has learnt that she never wants to sit in the leaders seat again (she was there by virtue of attending the most rehearsals). Fortunately, the audience was great, and we retired to rapturous applause and a standing ovation (as well as an impromptu encore - 'which bit are we playing?')

The first violin section - Cynthia, Joanna and James

After the orchestra, we went out for a drink on Saturday, and curry on Sunday with a few of the players. They turn out to be a fun bunch of people who made us feel very welcome, but it was the change in diet that really made the evening.

Check out www.myspace.com/kachumbariseven. The bassoon and the bass player were both in the orchestra and very enthusiastic musicians.

You may by now by wondering where the art comes in. Well, in the morning Joanna had a ballet show. She is unsure how she ended up performing when she had that her show in London was to be her last. Unfortunately Ed couldn't attend (he was devastated), he was looking after 5 children, but Carine went and told her that it was beautiful. Sadly no photos so you can't giggle at Jo in a tutu.

Talking about food, we realise that we have been incredibly remiss in not talking about thanksgiving. This (for those of you are unaware) is an American custom where they have Christmas dinner early, probably can't wait... Anyway, we were invited to the May residence for what turned out to be a delicious and lavish affair, with more food than you can imagine (considerably more than the 10 of us could eat anyway). A special treat was the sweet potato casserole.  Not sweet potatoes you understand, but yams covered in marshmallows. Yum. Tomorrow, to reciprocate, we are cooking up a classic Ed British fried breakfast. We have even managed to source some bacon.  Ed is unreasonably excited. Ed also maintains that this fits in to this blog as a good fry up is 'art'.

Last Sunday we attended a church in a small town called Ongata Rongai.  Ongata Rongai is a suburb of Nairobi, just of the main road beside the Nairobi National Park. We arrived at 11.00, superbly confident that we would be able to get to our concert at 3.00, especially when we saw that the service had already started. How wrong we were, but 'this is Africa'. The church was made out of corrugated iron (convenient for speedy removal) and had a mud floor. About 70 people were seated on low wooden benches and all eyes were on us as we entered the church. Rather wonderfully the church had a Casio keyboard hooked up to a massive speaker which was booming out the pop demo track whilst being accompanied by the choir and a guitar. During the hymns the keyboard player was a whole band in himself. He played chords along with the music, but unfortunately, as he had no music, he had to guess. He turned out to be not very lucky. The congregation also didn't have hymn books, and baring the choir, who stood swaying at the front, no one could sing unless you happened to know the words. However it didn't matter, everyone was having a good time.

James baptised a child and lead the service with the aid so Samwel Atunga acting as translator, but managed to confuse him and us by switching at random between English and Swahili. Another amusing thing was where Atunga wasn't sure of a word, and the whole congregation would call out the translation in unison...  The children of the Sunday school got involved and said a prayer (or something, remember the service was in Swahili), and we, the muzungus, had to introduce ourselves. After the service, and desperate to get away, we were invited to two tiny rooms at the back of the church and fussed over and made comfortable.  These turned out to be the house of 'the evangelist' and his family, he had bought us sodas, and cooked us dinner. He gave Joanna a white bead cross, and as it was placed around her neck the words 'Always remember that there is a Maasai evangelist in Ongata Rongai' were said.  Sadly, we did dash off fairly quickly (Atunga disappeared on a motor bike and reappeared with a taxi). All in all, they were an incredibly kind, friendly and welcoming bunch who we hope to see again soon.