Blessing’s HIFA Diary - Day 5, Messing with my mojo

May 2, 2010 by Blessing Musariri ·
Filed under: Entertainment, Arts & Culture 

1 May, Saturday
Coca-Cola day

“Open happiness.”

___

I left HIFA early today because being a Saturday, it was so crowded that it had become stressful to be there, the vibe had changed completely and the bouncers at the main stage gates had messed with my mojo.

The day started off great: press conference was colourful, with a wide range of guests and we were treated to a lovely serenade by The Magnets (an a cappella group from the UK). From there I rushed to my first show of the day, which was Musicolour, featuring Outspoken (spoken word artist) and his band The Essence, in collaboration with Trio Broz (string trio courtesy of the Embassy of Italy and the European Union), and Upmost – My Brother’s Keeper (spoken word artist). Out of the featured repertoire, my absolute favourite was one I’d never heard before; a satirical number about two domestic servants fighting over who was the best servant to baas and medem. The gardener ( Outspoken) and the cook (Upmost) do not like each other, but each one of them loves his medem and loves his baas. I laughed uproariously. These two guys have mad skills and Trio Broz were superb.

Now, Outspoken tackles issues of global politics and personal freedom. What was ironic is that at the end of a particular track, a member of the audience walked up to the stage and made a comment about the song. First of all, should audience members even be allowed to approach performers during a set? I wondered why this was allowed because none of the many festival staff at hand made a move to ask the lady to return to her seat.

This made me question the issue of freedom of speech. Freedom of speech is a child who speaks at will and causes discomfort when visitors are present. People scramble to defend, to edit and qualify with their own perceptions. The child felt free to speak but it becomes a situation in which censorship is imposed even though the horse is long gone from the stable.

Can anyone ever truly say whatever they want or what they feel in mixed company without retribution or rebuke from some quarter? What is freedom for that matter and can it ever truly exist without limitations? If it has limitations, is it still freedom?

Casting off such profound reflection, I then rushed off to catch a show at Reps Theatre and here-in lay my dilemma – take my car away from the prime parking spot or take the shuttle and risk being late for the next show on return? The problem was solved when it seemed that the shuttle had left without me – I couldn’t find it any rate. In Medea Res – a completely innovative piece of theatre, involving video projection and puppetry. The story is about displacement. I won’t go into too much detail but one thing that did affect me was the small puppet of the male character. The way the actors made it seem alive was kind of creepy. From where I was sitting it sometimes looked a tiny, living, breathing man. Not cool. But the show overall was tremendously interesting.

I found a rather dubious parking spot on my return but there really was not much choice. I decided to trust in God. I found TJ Dema (spoken word artist from Botswana) and Lebo Mashile (spoken word artist SA) sitting on the Green and joined them. It was hot and dusty there but the conversation was stimulating. I returned to the Mongolian barbarque and my lunchtime Savanna and relaxed in the presence of my talented and inspirational sisters of words and letters. As the Green filled up Togara Muzanenhamo (poet) and Ish Mafundikwa (journalist) joined us and we had a lively conversation about phobia’s, breastfeeding and giving birth (only Ish has children and he is a man at that) among other things. Lebo and I decided that spas should offer baby delivery services as part of a package that includes a facial, manicure and pedicure, epidural and massage when an expecting mother is due so as to add glamour and relaxation to the process of giving birth. At some point Togara decided it was much too much information about things he’d rather not know and segued off with Ish. I think it was the best conversation I ‘ve had on the Green yet – how much we laughed!

We moved on after lunch, to the poetry cafe and it was on fire today. Excellent performances all round and a full house possessed of a convivial ambiance. I was sad to leave and rightly so. It was on attempting to go and watch The Magnets that my mojo encountered a road block. I joined the long queue at the main stage entrance and when I got to the front I was told to wait to the side for the paying public to enter first– all very well, I had been told to expect this to happen. After about ten minutes I was asked to wait behind the barrier, which I did. After a few more minutes I saw a few people with wrist bands like mine enter, I then asked the bouncer if they were now letting in people with bands and he said yes. I tried to return to the place I had occupied at the head of the queue where I had been intercepted and made to wait, but was informed that I should join the queue again. Annoyed at this stage, I joined the queue deciding not to cause a fuss. When I got to the ticket checkers for the second time, they told me that they were not letting in people with wrist bands yet – the show was about to start at this stage – I felt my nature rise at this point and issued a challenge.

No one could explain to me why just a few minutes before a couple of people with bands and no tickets had been allowed in but now suddenly the policy had changed. They said they had yet to see if the grounds would reach capacity before I would be allowed in. I was about to tell them to search the grounds for the few artists I’d seen admitted and also eject them because surely being one person I was not going to take up as much room as about five others and so the fair thing to do would be to act consistently. But after opening his mouth to start arguing, the venue manager visibly changed the direction of his words and told me to just continue on in. By this time though I was more inclined to just going home because I had just come from the disappointment of finding the Green fully occupied and the food stalls running out of certain items. TJ and I eventually found an obscure place to sit and eat under the workshop gazebos away from the Green, and there we munched on our disappointing kebabs of last resort.

Of course The Magnets were great but everything had changed and I was now on the other side of happiness, exacerbated by tiredness and the growing sense of chaotic crowds – many drunk youths (I had been warned by one of the artist to hold onto my bag because she’d been pick-pocketed in line the night before, losing cash and a phone) – I was ‘no longer at ease.’ My father always told me as a teenager that I should know when to leave a party, I knew today was the day to heed this advise and so I met up with my sister and left. I am praying that tomorrow will not be as hectic as today.

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