Fumbling Through Festivals

i am not much of a festival person.

festivals are overwrought with breeders and their spawn and i find the stench of patchouli and marijuana makes my head spin.

even when i smoked a fair amount of pot... i found the whole experience more annoying than enjoyable. the festivals, that is... not the pot.

but when my friends, the eloquent sister epiphenita and her beloved barbara, invited me to attend this year's international festival, i found my libran scales teetering.

i will do almost anything to spend time with these two extraordinary women.... but a festival? images of breeders digging through their fanny packs while their sugar-hyped children beg for another funnel cake screamed "oh hell to the no" from deep inside my psyche.

my adoration for the sisters of lesbos, however, overruled my disdain for booths with gaudy jewelry and overpriced tchotchke knockoffs.

besides... this year the theme was africa. "and if we can't help africa," i thought, "why not at least celebrate it?" i'll also admit the thought of children wailing at they toured the replica field littered with the decapitated remains of the darfur slain tickled me something awful.

fucking privileged white kids... they need some reality.

also... celebrating africa gives everyone a chance to honor the beginning of our ancestral genealogy... my inner homo habilis took a bow at the thought. of course, not yet being erect he was pretty much already there. maybe he was just getting a drink from a nearby spring....?

when we stepped into the clutches of the festival, we immediately headed for the mainstage to watch the ethiopian dancers. they seemed.... happy? yes, happy. thin... but happy.

and there was a large replica of an african christian church.... a coffee ceremony. and...is this right? a tent saluting buffalo soldiers...

aren't buffalo soldiers distinctly american?

where was the horrifying photo exhibit of the nightmare in darfur? the petition to overturn the stolen election in zimbabwe....?

as hard as i looked.... no real display of the turmoil and nightmares that make up the everyday lives of africans. where was the african AIDS quilt? the discussion of cattle taking over lands needed to grow crops? the shortage of rice in the world....?

where was leo talking about blood diamonds?

i saw cheap replicas of african masks... brightly colored caftans and dashikis. i even saw a stand selling "deep fried pizza" (i shit you not).

but through the blinding smoke of roasting turkey legs and other flesh... nowhere did i see the atrocities discussed.

luckily... my fellow companions and i shared enough snarky comments throughout the afternoon so as not to become overwhelmed with the disjointed cheerfulness of the festivities.

and it was nice to tour the structures epiphenita's daughter helped construct, read up on some of the history and listen to some discussions concerning jim crow in america.

and we got to see the daughter's pirate friend... pirates! in africa! (her pirate friend was not hard to spot, by the way... he was in full regalia right next to the women who used the international festival as a reason to pull their slutty, renaissance festival garb out of mothballs for another go at it. i guess this is much like finding another occasion to wear your prom dress again... it must be thrilling when the opportunity arises.)

and i really did enjoy the afternoon.... after a couple of hours, yes, i was ready to go. but i could hang out with this group of articulate, surly and creative friends all day long... no matter when or where.

even a festival....

e.

p.s. as we left the festival, we were fortunate enough to watch a march protesting the beijing olympics and the human rights atrocities happening every day in china. finally! some awareness!