Long Time...Damba! (Jan 2010)

Wow it’s been a long time since I’ve written an entry of any kind…. You pair my extreme distaste for hand-writing, and a lack of computer to readily type on, and yea… u get no real entry since January. So let’s see… what has happened in the past 8 months? A lot, I suppose, and then at the same time, not much. In the next few posts I’ll try to touch on some of the passing things as well as dive deeper into some of the more signifigant events. Let’s start with Damba!

Damba (Jan-Feb 2010)

Just after my birthday entry last year (end of January, early Feb) was the Damba festival in the Northern Region. All of the towns celebrated it in some fashion, and mine was no exception. Damba is a drumming and dancing festival where everyone wears their traditional smocks and dance in a way that looks something like a pinwheel spin. When they do that, the smocks flair out into a huge circle, and it’s quite fun to watch. Probably the most entertaining part was watching some of the elders: they are very quiet and serious, and some have trouble walking around. The humor came when it was time for the dancing, and it seemed that they had been given some gift of youth for the day. They were spinning in grand circles, swirling their smocks high in the air and at different angles, showing off a lifetime of practice for the dancing festival. Other traditional dances were done which required a combination of footwork with hand movements that I don’t think I could ever pull off. Jake from the Upper East came down for the festival, and neither of us were very sure what it was about or what it entailed. I told him what I knew… it was a drumming and dancing festival. We arrived at the scene, greeted the elders, and sat to watch the proceedings.

Damba festival was another marked moment for me in my integration here, and with making Diare feel like home. As Jake and I took our seats we watched the elders and respected guests arrive, and it surprised me how many “important” faces were now familiar to me. The elders associated with the Chief were already seated under a pavilion, waiting for the drums. Soon after we sat, a loud raucous started heading towards us and a massive cloth umbrella (maybe 10 or 12 feet in diameter) was being spun in the air. People parted ways and I recognized those approaching without anyone having to tell me. It was the warriors I had seen at the Fire Festival. The drummers who came to drum were the same I had seen at other festivals, and the overall feeling I had was one that while I was still obviously a whitey playing tribesman, I was at least their awkward whitey.

The drummers started their drumming, and the lead drummer would walk very close to a person in the audience and essentially stare them down with a huge grin, and drum in their faces. This was the way of inviting that person to dance, and trust me, it’s pretty difficult to refuse, all eyes are on you. Most of the elders danced, and then came my turn where I found a drum beating in my face.

The drumming for all festivals seems to be about the same. Either the drummers drum and people give coins and bills directly to the drummers, or if there is dancing involved, people give the coins and bills to the person dancing, who then gives it to the drummers. Coins are usually given in the hand, while bills are usually placed (and subsequently stuck—everyone is sweating) to the person’s forehead. So the drumming came at me. I stood, danced small, was given a handful of coins from several people, I gave them to the lead drummer, and took my seat.

After about an hour or two of drumming and dancing, the festival simply shut down. Jake and I then had the following conversation:

Is that it?

I don’t know… let me ask around….

(After I asked a few people)

Ya.. I guess that’s it. But I mean it makes sense. It’s a drumming and dancing festival. We drummed. We danced. Now it’s done.

Huh. That’s the most literal festival I’ve ever heard of.