The jazz festival has barely started but I already met the cousins (I thought they were brothers) Almou from the Festival au Desert, for a half hour talk about how to arrange a festival in the poorest part of one of the poorest countries in the world. Also said hi to Panji Anoff, Wanlov the Kubolor and King Ayisoba. Wanlov arrived barefeet, honouring his nickname The African Gypsy and defying the realities of Swedish summer (14 degrees and rain). King Ayisoba wore traditional garments and got lost at the airport, his pick up got the name wrong, maybe he was confused by the "king" part of it. Ayisoba still managed to get a ride into town somehow, waiting out the confusion at the hotell before the organizers were able to locate him.
But more of them tomorrow. Now the real festival starts. Tonight I will see, and write about, Zap Mama, who travelled far from her congolese roots. Too far? That's exactly what I intend to find out.
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