6/28 The Festival of Gnaoua

Breakfast was chocolate croissants, coffee, OJ, and bread and jam. By now I was recovering from my upset stomach, so I scarfed everything down no problem. We then went to a woodworking session with Nico, an artist with a history with the program. He made two pieces for us. The first piece was wood from a trunk, and an orange tree laced through with various wooden ships forming leaves in the picture. The second piece used wood from a root, and an metal piece laced through with seashell leaves. He was real friendly, and enjoyed all his adoring fans. The most amazing things he made were the tables in the corner, which were made from 6 pieces of wood glued together, and decorated magnificently. After lunch back at the hotel I went with shopping with Modolu for souvenirs. Modolu is totally in the bargaining mood, and talks down the vendors even when he doesn’t want to buy the thing. We found some ramparts and took pictures, before returning to the hotel and going to the beach.

I now felt well enough to play soccer, so after scouring the beach looking for our group (passing both a techno stage and an Arabic rap stage) we finally found them. Everyone but Modolu and I chickened out, and just watched us play soccer with the locals, who were good, but not impossible. Also, the first guy we started juggling with, told us his friend was now living in the US working with a church (to which our friend seemed to belong to as well). Moroccan Christians here are extremely rare, so it was really interesting meeting one, and he was extremely friendly. At dusk I took Mely and Steph to the ramparts, serving as body guard. Today was Mely’s birthday, so I thought it the least I could do, after we got everyone to sing at dinner and got her an icecream. We had fun sitting on the fortress, and took some great photos which may or may not turn out as good as they should.

I then met up with the rest of the group who were heading to Kimano Marley at 10PM. We followed the crowds of Rastas to the far gate, and as we actually walked through the gate, the crowds were jammed packed. Some of us were literally shoved by old ladies, and I served as the lighthouse showing those in the back where to go, while I watched those in the front. Sadly, Katrina had her camera stolen right from her in the hustle and bustle, which started us off on a bad note. We finally made it through, and stayed as a group while we waited for the tech crew to finish setting up. Abol AlrahEm found us and took us to his spot, which became our headquarters. However, very shortly after Kimano started, the students decided to go to the front, so we slowly snaked our way through the middle. I really enjoyed Kimano’s style; his personal songs were a mixture of rap and reggae and he played some of his dad’s songs too No woman, no cry, and I shot the sheriff, and We're Jamming. We had fun dancing with the rastas, though I was ever vigilant of where their hands were. People were being hoisted up holding Bob Marley flags, others were flung into the air cheer leader style (in a hip-hip-hooray fashion), many were smoking, and in the middle of it all there was definitely a hookah group set up. It actually was quite easy moving forward because everyone kind of stayed in groups of various sorts. Also, people loved our dance moves and started copying us, though the prize goes to Steph for her Kapowetta. We definitely raised hands and lighters for at least half the songs, and even given constantly looking out for thieves, it was one of the most relaxing concerts ever. I loved it. Apparently he ended with One Love, but I missed it because I walked Rachel back to the hotel. Someone tried to steal her bag off her shoulder when Katrina spotted him, and their was a tug-of-war wherein Rachel’s bag ripped. She was shell shocked and couldn’t really enjoy the concert anymore, so I took her back, and by the time I returned only the street cleaners were left. I then doubled back to the hotel where a Gnaoua group was breaking it down by our hotel.

Granted the crowd-bases are slightly different, still, way more people were dancing to the Gnaoua group than the Marley songs. It could also be that this was the last group of the festival, so I tried to stay as long as I could, but my legs had had it so I quickly returned to the hotel.