Category: Blog

A fairytale for Aaminah

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a handsome prince in a big castle by the sea.
When this prince was a little boy, he was cursed by an evil wizard who was jealous of the little child and all the wealth he would inherit.
Because of this curse, the handsome prince lost his voice and could only speak for a minute every day at midnight.
One day, a brave and beautiful princess rode by the castle on her magnificent white stallion.
She had just come back from battling a fearsome dragon who threatened the villagers in a nearby hamlet.
The princess was thirsty and just a little peckish, as dragon-slaying did have the reputation of building up quite an appetite.
She stopped her stallion at the little stream that ran pass the castle.
She and her steed were enjoying the refreshing waters when the stallion suddenly whinnied and looked towards one of the castle’s turrets.
It was then that the princess heard the most beautiful singing.
The voice was strong and rich, and reached the very heights of the heavens.
It was like something straight out of American Idol.
The princess said, “I don’t often say this, but this is easily the best performance I’ve ever heard. This guy definitely has the x-factor.”
She got on to her trusty stallion and dashed off for the castle gates.
The walls were fairly easy to climb and within two winks the princess had scurried up to the tallest turret.
She found herself in a dim and dusty room with only the glow from a fireplace as illumination.
“You’ve got some really bad feng shui going on in here. I’ll give you the number for my guy, he’s really good,” the princess said.
The figure in the corner stared at her in amazement and coughed.
The prince had never seen anything as beautiful as her.
But how would he tell her? His minute was up.
The princess gave the prince a quick once-over. “Not a bad looking chap,” she thought. “With a shave, a new haircut and some styling, he’ll be fit for royalty.”
She nodded at him and said, “You’re a quiet fella aren’t you? I like that. I will marry you.”
The prince reached for his notebook and pen and quickly scribbled, “Er…ok. But what about this curse?”
“Curse, shmurse,” she said. “This is a blessing. A husband who doesn’t nag? What more could I want?”
And with that she slung him over her shoulder and jumped out of the window to land squarely on her waiting steed.
She lived happily ever after.

In the maws of mugamma*

The go-to captain slash commissioner of oaths slash instrument for the Will of God was so bad-ass, he smoked right under the sticker telling him he couldn’t. You don’t argue with the dude with the stars on his shoulders and who looked like Azad Essa; only older, taller and part of the system.

Waiting right next to us was Salvador Dali­. While it was not his best incarnation, he did pull the ends of his moustache with proud pincered fingers while Joe Jaml looked over the tired identity documents and told him to get in step with the kafka-conga.

While bumbling about we learnt that “South African” is not the correct answer to fill in for “Original Nationality” on the visa renewal form as it is important for the ministry to know that our great-grandparents came from India.

It was stranger than that dream I had about a swimming pool filled with empty condoms and people’s failed aspirations. And it pretty much topped the one where we paid R100 for David Hasselhoff’s autograph.

I only wish I’d been asleep. We head back there tomorrow.

 

*the paperworkery one is at the mercy of for all sorts of officialese, and where we have to go to get our tourist visa extended.

 

Tambourines and tannoura

To play the castanets, to really play the castanets, one must have a personality that is bigger than all of the room.

It is the same with the zills.

It must be a personality so expansive and enshrouding that it mutes the collective ear-drum drubbing of the mazamir and slows down the systole-diastole of the daff until all you hear is the clap of brass on brass.

Click here to see more photographs of the tannoura performance at the Wikala al-Ghouri in Cairo.