Live Painting & Music: Ganga Mix ft. Heol at GUST Kuwait

The canvas came alive, right before our very eyes.

The artist's deft fingers moved quickly and decisively. A dab here, a stroke there. He was bold in his choice of colour. But the vibrant hues never clashed, and each touch of paint augmented the harmony of the colours. They just were. It was incredible, witnessing his imagination transition onto the canvas. You almost felt as though you could follow his train of thought...

On one side of the canvas was the outline of a man. The colours appeared to come out of nowhere as he began to take form. He grew a goatee and wore a puff-sleeved tunic. His hands held an oud. His eyes were closed and his brow furrowed. He didn't seem to be in the present moment—his music seemed to have drawn him away, miles away from where he sat strumming the strings of his oud. His face reflected the inner peace his music evidently gave him. What was he playing that affected him so deeply? Who was he playing it for?

Upon the center was a vague mass with menacing holes in it. Defined lines and strokes of paint were added, and a woman's eyes emerged, beautiful eyes, each mirroring different emotions—one, pensiveness, the other, shock. The artist kept enhancing them with finishing touches, and his talent leaped out from the canvas.

The other artist worked mostly on the other end, highlighting contours of veiled women, and then a man in a ghutra, adding more details and definitive features.

Work in progress

Finito!

A close up of the soulful musician

There was live music accompanying the art, reverberating through the hall, played by two French musicians on drums, trumpets, a keyboard and some very peculiar-looking percussion instruments. One track conjured up an image from an old Western: that of a rattlesnake rattling its tail in a desert, with the wind gusting through the land. They played several tracks, some soothing, and some:

(L-R) The artists: Heol, Amira Behbehani
The musicians: Pierre-Yves Prothais, Nournours Lhoumeau,
Hashim Al Nasser

I must note how big a difference it makes to attend an event like this with someone who expresses their interpretation of art (had a lovely time with you S!).

Overall, a remarkable event. A huge shout out to Institut Français du Koweït for bringing it to Kuwait.
If you live in Kuwait, stay updated with upcoming concerts and events with Kuwait Music.

Artists: Heol, Amira Behbehani
Musicians: Pierre-Yves Prothais, Nournours Lhoumeau forming the Ganga Mix duo, Hashim Al Nasser

Note: 
I am in no way an art or music critic. This is just my interpretation of the artwork, a narration of the thoughts it aroused in me.

an eventful weekend.

This weekend has been a very nice one. I'm sorry it's come to a close. Yes, I realize I said here that I was sure I had more to say than tell people in so many words of what a good time I'm having, but you know that feeling when you have SUCH a good time that you must share? This is me sharing. I promise to make it worth your while.

Since I started working, I've rarely had a very packed weekend in Kuwait. Occasionally, I do breakfast with the BFF and then we go gallivanting in her car across the country, or I take in a concert or a movie. Else I prefer to stay in and relax with the family, read or write. This Friday however, was different.

Friday morning I met the Q8 Foot Soldiers a second time (they deserve an entire post, stay tuned) to go running (in my case, walking more than running) on the promenade from Marina Crescent to Scientific Center and back. The weather, in case you slept in and failed to notice, was absolutely gorgeous. The walk/run was rejuvenating, the crisp, fresh air revitalized my senses that had been so dull and dismal and in danger of catching a cold the past week. My skin was finally exposed to sunlight—merciful sunlight—and I basked in it. So much more refreshing than a workout at the gym!

The scenic route: pausing to stare at the scenery

After the walking/running, stretching and socializing with a couple of the other runners, I met the mother for breakfast at Zaatar w Zeit and devoured the most mouth-watering and delicious fattoush salad ever. It was heavenly. I can still taste the lettuce doused in the tangy lemon-olive oil dressing and hear the echoes of it crunching in my head...I can never get that taste in homemade salads.

The afternoon consisted of a shopping spree for sports apparel at Decathlon with the sister. I think I drove her to the brink of frustration and insanity as I circled the store for nearly two hours in search of a long cotton jacket. Finally conceded to buy one two sizes too big since nothing else was long enough for my liking.

It's about time I linked back to my blogger-aspiring writer friend Lord Aymz. He writes exceedingly well, has a distinct style and wit, and his blog is the first local one I stumbled upon that was articulate and intelligent. We had a chance meeting at Better Books a couple of years ago when we were just following each other's blogs. He is also the founder of the aforementioned Q8 Foot Soldiers.

He likes to try new things, and somehow got himself into performing stand-up comedy for the first time at the Isma'ani Open Mic Night event Friday night at Argeela Bar. Carpe diem baybeh! The online audience registration had reached capacity so of course I invited myself, and attended with a lovely (and very lively!) member of the Q8 Foot Soldiers.

It was a very enjoyable evening and I'm still laughing at the hilarious dialogues and antics of the host. Aymz's act was very good, considering it was his first time (his face beetroot red with nervousness throughout). Stand-up comedy is probably the toughest form of public speaking and I admire his guts. Watch his act here. He has loads of potential and I've already invited myself (again) for the next show.

There was another performer, a beautiful young woman from Saudi, that grabbed my attention as soon as she started speaking. She narrated a letter titled 'Woman', a dedication of sorts to her 'yet to be conceived daughter'. It was the most stirring, soulful piece of writing I'd come across in a very long time. She received (much deserved) thunderous applause.

What made the day even more memorable is an unexpected meeting with Nada Faris, a very talented Kuwaiti writer and blogger. Her short stories and posts have become a crucial part of my weekly reading and I'm learning a lot from them. I spotted her across the room, recognized her immediately (having seen her picture dozens of times on her website banner) and patiently waited for intermission to go say hi. When it did come, I hopped over in excitement and after making certain it was her (I had a sudden thought that she could have a sister that looked exactly like her) introduced myself, and we enveloped each other in a bear hug. I love meeting people I know from the internet, especially the blogosphere. And especially when those meetings lack premeditation!

Saturday was spent in rumination and relaxation.

So that was my wonderful weekend, and I've introduced you to two awesome bloggers. Told you I'd make it worth your while.

the dazzling affair & the unquenchable thirst: Kuwait's Record Breaking Fireworks Display

For the past couple of weeks, K-town has been abuzz with a singular numerical figure.
Four million KWD (Kuwaiti Dinars).
For those of you that lead your lives elsewhere, that's the cost of the fireworks display that was held to mark 50 years of the issuance of the Constitution of the State of Kuwait.

Having witnessed last year's fireworks display in awe, we naturally planned to join the throngs of people heading towards Gulf Road to watch the extravaganza that took place last night, from Green Island all the way to Kuwait Towers. It looked like half the country turned out for the breathtaking show.

Sparkly! So sparkly!

We parked in the expansive lot between the Indian embassy and the Third Ring Road, dropped off the father at Burj Al-Hamam, and then the mother, sister and I walked to Kuwait Towers, attempting to buy water on the way there. I was so incredibly thirsty - we walked the whole length of road from Burj al Hamam to Applebee's and every single restaurant and ice cream cart we came across on the way was out of the precious resource. Restaurants like Abdel Wahab Lebanese Restaurant adamantly stated '"they did not give 'take away water'". I'd read that there would be volunteers handing out water like there always are in walks and marathons, but there weren't any.

Discouraged by the crowds laid out in camp chairs all across the beaches after Applebee's, we decided against going up till Kuwait Towers. We halted there (Applebee's) and found a decent enough standing spot on the sand, looking out onto the dark Arabian Gulf. There were screens set up in the middle of the water with moving show lights and far away into the distance, dotted lights shone from a string of boats lined up in the periphery of the sea, with blinking blue lights indicating the presence of the Kuwait Coast Guard. I envied them all their view, it was bound to be spectacular. The show was scheduled to begin in thirty minutes.

By this time, I was almost deliriously thirsty and didn't feel like I could stand any longer. I kicked myself for my lack of foresight for not getting a couple of bottles from home and thought longingly of the carton of pure unadulterated mineral water in the kitchen. I had never wanted water so desperately.

Which brings me to quote the classic and apt lines from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner -

Water, water, everywhere

nor any drop to drink.

You have to appreciate the irony.

Then, the show finally commenced after a countdown from 50 down to 1, thankfully taking my mind off my parched throat for the next hour.

It's not a great video, but note the 'squiggly' fireworks! The first time I'd ever seen them.

A couple more short and crisp videos:

This last one exhibits Kuwait Towers in a dazzling display of explosive colour:

After the last of the record breaking fireworks exploded (77,282 in totality) and the glorious colours quite literally went up in smoke, we started walking back. I was reminded of my dry throat. I have now truly come to appreciate this God given gift and the meaning of the word 'scarcity'. I kept trying to mollify myself with words like, it's okay, pretend you're fasting, but it didn't really work since I don't exactly walk 4-8 km when I'm fasting do I? It's not like I'm in the Gobi desert (even if this still is desert country). Kuwait has a production of 3.1 million barrels of oil per day (October 2011) and has one of the highest standards of living in the world. There is a fireworks show on that cost 14 million USD, that also secured an entry into the Guinness Book of World Records. And there is absolutely no water to drink on a stretch of 4.4 km of the more popular side of the coastline. Kinda makes you wonder what the point of all that oil is, when with all the money in the world, you can't get water when you want it!

It was a frightening thought - suddenly, pictures from CNN of kids walking for miles to procure water from wells in India and Africa began playing in my mind and I started getting flashes of what the world would be like if we ran out of water. Chaos, anarchy... the post-apocalyptic scenario of my ill-timed visions was little short of horrifying.

We stopped at KFC to try our luck there. A conversation that ensued with the cashier:

Me: A bottle of water please.
Cashier: We don't have water.
The sister: Can we have a glass of tap water?
(The sister drinks it all the time in Europe.)
Cashier: We can't do that, Ma'am.
The sister: Can we have a glass full of ice then?

Yes, we could, but that wasn't enough for me; I needed to feel the liquid gushing down my shrivelled insides and assuaging them. Finally, conceding defeat, I ordered Pepsi, knowing full well the sugar in it would dehydrate me further. Perhaps you can fathom how parched my throat was. The gas-less Pepsi was the most disgusting thing I'd ever consumed in a long time, and it incensed me that it cancelled out the good our walk did for me, but I drank more than half of it anyway. Made up for it by guzzling down a litre of water as soon as I got home.

The mother made a valid point: More and more of this country's residents are being diagnosed with diabetes, and all anyone could find to drink at this phenomenal event was Pepsi.. and other gross aerated drinks.

I now leave you to mull over my post with the pictures I salvaged from the blurry mess of photos taken with my iPhone:

and so, it begins

Second best firework on my list - for the brilliance of colour
(it follows the squigglies)

The sky lights up!

and my personal favourite.. The Illusory Exploding Tree.

music that moves you.

Sometimes, a piece of music touches you so deeply you feel raw, exposed. You wonder how is it that a non-living thing can understand you, complete you. And then you realize it is living...

I think Mozart's delightful sonata (E minor, KV 304) triggered those feelings in me. Or it might have been Antonín Dvořák's sonatina in G major, Op. 100. Or perhaps Jules Massenet's Thaïs Meditation..

I was thrilled to learn that the two musicians at last Wednesday's concert at Dar Al-Athar Al-Islamiyyah were from the Czech Republic (the Czech ambassador's car should have tipped me off). I could show off the limited (about 15 words tops) Czech I knew!

It was clear from his performance that Adam Skoumal, the pianist, enjoyed every minute of it, his head bobbing to the tunes along with the rest of him swerving to them. He played exceedingly well.. and he knew it.

And the violinist? Roman Patočka?

He seemed to be in a passionate affair with his violin, wooing it, refusing to take no for an answer. His bow was a blur of motion on the fiddle, as it strummed out one beautiful, heartrending melody after another, moving me to my very soul.

They also played a composition of Adam's to the public for the first time ever.

Of course, they received a much deserved standing ovation. After bowing and posing with their bouquets, they stepped off stage, deliberated for about 40 seconds, then returned, announcing they would play Debussy's Claire de Lune.

What a treat!

After the show, I excitedly cornered the rosy-cheeked violinist, Roman Patočka (pronounced patochka), greeting him with a 'dobrý večer!' (good evening, pronounced Dobree Vecher). He was delighted. I announced that I'd holidayed in the Czech Republic the year before and visited the Moravský Kras (limestone caves) and other gorgeous places there. I don't know why I thought he'd care to know that. I suppose like most people I'm under the illusion that on meeting someone from a far off land, you must immediately establish an inane familiarity with said land, no matter what the topic (when I tell foreigners I'm Indian when they ask me where I'm from, they almost always reveal their longing to visit Goa). Well in my case it wasn't inane. So there.

Back to Roman. He was as sweet and friendly as all the other Czech people we met in the CZ, with an adorable, disarming smile. Of course, I took a picture with him. Lately, I've been taking a lot of pictures with random guys - nomad painters, comedians, musicians, cosplayers..

I wanted to buy their CD but they were sold out.

I waved goodbye to them with a cheery 'Nashledanou' (Goodbye, pronounced Nas-khladanou) and they responded likewise.

I leave you with Adam's dramatic composition (that I listen to everyday) - excuse the not-so-fantastic quality. I tried.

Tedx Safat, Kuwait: Ideas Worth Spreading.. indeed!

I wasn't supposed to be attending Wednesday night's Tedx Safat Conference. But I did and it was awesome.
I'd received no reply when I emailed to ask if the event was going to be held in English. My friend Sahar (who blogs about her experiences in Kuwait on Eternal Joie de Vivre, go check her out!) found out that it was. Problem solved.

Thank God I emailed, because apparently you had to pre-register. An event organizer asked for our names to tick off a list and I thought with a sinking feeling that I wouldn't be able to sit for it. But it was there!! *fist in the air* (awful rhyming was unintentional, my apologies)

And what did I think? Read on for a succinct account on what each speaker communicated. Words in italics are their words (or close), not mine.

We walked in and found seats just in time to see the first speaker, Dr. Saad Hamad Al Barrak take the stage and start his speech on 'Leading Change', the essence of which was that the purpose of leadership is to impact change. He explained this concept through John P. Kotter's change model below.

I loved his definition on delegation, 'it is nothing but a loan of a power of authority'. An illusion of power if you will.

Dr. Ghanim Alnajjar was the UN Independent Expert on Human Rights in Somalia, appointed by former UN Secretary General Kofi Anan. He specified that without equality there was no stability and that might and right are never too often on the same side. Seeing the destitution and war-torn lands one wonders, do we live in the same world? The UN did not allow its people to travel by cars in parts of Somalia; the areas were so dangerous and riddled with land mines that workers actually had to use small planes! Tragically the situation in Somalia is far from light, with 300,000 Somalians internally displaced and living in camps.

Sulayman Al-Bassam blew me over. A world-renowned playwright, he tries to foster open-mindedness through his plays. He brought to light the fact that people prefer to express in English, fearing to do so in their native tongue. In 2003, when Iraq was invaded, there were mixed feelings of joy and trepidation in the region - joy at the attempt to overthrow a dictator and trepidation because, well, war is a terrible thing.
He wrote and directed a play in Kuwait at that time, casting Kuwaiti, Iraqi, British and American actors, in an attempt to promote kindred feelings amongst people and put the torrid past behind them. A terrible thing happened on opening night - one of the Kuwaiti actors suddenly died of natural causes backstage while the performance was going on. A member of the audience somehow got wind of the death and announced on stage that the Iraqi actors had 'killed our compatriot'. A ripple of shock went through the audience (the TEDx one) as Sulayman made his point, that in less than a minute, the man had poisoned the idea that we were trying to promote. It was a lesson on how difficult it was to change a society. Questions we ask through our art should help support an open society.

Hussaa Al Humaidhi was a ball of energy! Her fantastic slide show was perfectly synchronized and well coordinated with her speech and the message she wanted to deliver. Her presentation was titled From Frustration to Collaboration to Inspiration (Connecting the Dots). The 'dots' were represented by four creative individuals (in her speech as well as on the slide) frustrated (frustration occurring 'when things are out of your control') with the lack of inspiration in Kuwait, travelled to different countries to find it. They then decided to take matters into their own hands and here's where the collaboration comes in. They founded Nuqat, meaning dots in Arabic, an organization that offers individuals the chance to bring out creativity within the region, taking care of the inspiration factor. They realized too many young designers in the Middle East were uninspired and just mimicking the West. With Nuqat, these entrepreneurs want to encourage designers and other creative individuals remain to true to their Arab identity and find that spark here. She signed off with the well-known and extremely apt quote: Never wait for inspiration, hunt it down with a stick!

Sheikha Intisar Salem Al Ali Al Sabah founded and runs a publishing house. At a bookstore in a neighbouring Gulf country, she noticed the store had books on most countries of the Middle East... except Kuwait. So, she set out to write one! She interviewed Kuwaitis that had made a real difference in the country and through their passion, found her inspiration. She described their contribution in a slideshow while quoting each of them.

I liked the way Mrs. Maha Al-Ghunaim (founder and MD of Global Investment House) began her speech, by stating quite frankly that she moved to the States for Bachelors in Engineering, because it seemed right, as her siblings were engineers. A year later she switched her major to mathematics because she loved it and hated engineering. Move where your passion is. After completing her degree, she moved back to Kuwait in August to look for work. An HR manager of an elite investment firm told her to go on vacation to Switzerland with her parents and that they didn't hire women (scumbag company). Twelve years later, I became the boss of his boss. YEAH!! *round of applause*
She ended saying something simple and profound that I've pondered on a lot in the past two days, and I hope I never forget it. At the end of each day, think, 'did I give it my all?' Give the best you can be at that point to everything and do it regularly. She ended with the quote: Giving it your all, is not too far from victory.

We left then, her words echoing in my head.
Actually, they still are.

I hope someone uploads the videos on youtube, I'd love to hear Sulayman Al Bassam's speech again as well as the last two we missed by Dr. Ahmad BouShehri and Khaled Al-Kulaib. Kudos to Dana Al-Hilal and her team for a wonderful event and the fantastic choice of speakers. I was completely unaware as to the brilliance of these people. The message each one of them gave, especially the latter ones has touched me differently. Why do we need to look to world famous, far removed personalities for motivation when we have very worthy ones right here?


Note: I tried to get their words down verbatim but it wasn't possible for all. If any of the above mentioned ever read this (hey it could happen) and feel I got the wrong idea, I am profusely sorry, I was lost in your awesomeness : (

(If you'd like to see pictures, check out the ones by The Dusty Co. here)

a much overdue and awesome trip to Failaka.

20 years in Kuwait and I had never been to Failaka. It was time to change that. Went to the Failaka Heritage Village with Maeve, an old friend from school (my oldest one, our friendship is ancient) and her friend Kayo who was visiting here. Ever since I heard about the Greek ruins on the island I've been dying to see them!

The ride in the catamaran was rejuvenating. I discovered my sea legs were not fully developed.

Bye bye mainland

The sea's got its bling on

someone asked why I took this.
is it not obvious?

Once there we were taken to the hotel in a minibus. The receptionist gave us a map, directing us to the restaurant Ikaros for lunch and informing us of a tour at 3 pm at an additional cost of 1 KD. The Greek ruins were not open to the public unless you had special permission from the Kuwait National Museum. That sucks.
The island was called Ikaros by the Greeks back in the day (324 BC or a few years later). It reminded them of another island of theirs in the Aegean Sea by the same name. Sentimental much?
The hotel was pretty cool with a touch of the old Kuwait, atleast what it must have looked like before the modernization fever hit the country.

Yup old world window alright..
if you ignore the ATM outside.

3-dimensional picture! It's too bad so few of these (the actual
building not the pic) exist today.

We stepped outside to explore before heading to the restaurant for lunch (we had to be back at 3pm for a tour of the island). It was pretty awesome! This is a little startling, almost every pic below brought to mind some fantasy/movie/cartoon.

Lantern: I'm thinking of that scene of Harry looking at musty
books in the library in Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

                                       

the tree's central location reminds me of
The White Tree of Gondor

umm.. Sleeping Beauty going up
the staircase to prick her finger?
No? Okay no.

my mind draws a blank at this one.

the courtyard, blank again

from the first floor. Kayo said the sheets reminded her of
Aladdin. I love people that relate Disney to reality! :D

Lunch was surprisingly good. There was a buffet with fatoush, mutton biryani, chicken majboos, spaghetti and meatballs (untouched), rice and dakoos (untouched), jelly (untouched) and my absolute favourite Arabic sweet dish muhallabiya. There were other dishes too but none worth remembering.

We went back to the reception to take the tour. First stop was the Iraqi tank cemetery. For some inexplicable reason, it reminded me of the elephant graveyard in the Lion King (I'm beginning to think that I may have watched Disney movies too often as a kid). We only had about four minutes here before the driver tooted his horn and everyone rushed back to the bus. I strayed for a minute trying to cram in more pictures that I had neglected to take. That one minute of solitude there was no sound but that of the wind, blowing through the derelict, rusting, once terrifying machines of death and destruction.

anti aircraft gun

killing machines

Someone please enlighten me as to what on earth
this is.

When we get wowed by war museums and admire the destructive machines on display, how often do we allow the grim realization to dawn on us and reflect on how many lives those may have taken? Wiped out towns? Stolen innocent civilians' rights to a peaceful existence, caught in the crossfire of political differences?
Probably never.

Next stop, the camel farm. First out of the minibus, I ran upto an enclosure containing camel mommies and their young. The herder keeping guard at the gate ushered me in, advising me to make no sound with my camera. I went in noiselessly, standing among the camels but never behind them, afraid of getting kicked by a stray hind leg o_O Pretending I was a wildlife photographer, I managed to capture a tender moment between a mother and her child.

That one.

Those eyelashes are the envy of every woman.

                             

What a soppy grin!

                                   
We were then driven to an area that had a hotel. When the Iraqi army invaded Failaka, they kicked out the residents and used the buildings for target practice.

Hotel rooms.. dozens of them.

Buildings riddled with bullet holes, the place was a ghost town. It was eerie being in such close proximity to empty, ramshackle houses that were once full thriving with life. Almost every house seems to have had a decent sized backyard, such a rarity now in Kuwait.

What's left of the bank.

The crooked man's crooked house (from the nursery rhyme)

Of course, this being Kuwait, it is imperative that one encounters a BlackBerry Pin no. exhibited somewhere, even if it is in the middle of nowhere.

Or in this case, a 'Bin' number.

It was 4 pm by the time we got back; we had to clear out by 4 30. We had just enough time to take a quick peek at the market wares, all handmade in Failaka. Great place for souvenirs!

Metalwork: a doe. We bought stags.

The sheesha tile cracked me up xD

This awesome stuff wasn't on sale :(

And then we were shooed out.


I have a bone to pick with the organizers: I understand high tide being at 4 45 pm means we have to leave then, but WHY on earth must the catamaran leave so late (12 30pm!!) from Marina Crescent? That's 45 minutes going, arriving on the island at 1 15 pm, having to report to the hotel at 4 30 pm to leave. That's just 3 hours 15 minutes minus the one hour that goes in the tour if you opt for it, equaling a little over 2 hours to explore on your own. NOT ENOUGH!!

The way back, I nearly fell overboard trying to get pictures of the Kuwaiti skyline by nightfall. Deciding I had taken enough photos (hundreds) and that whoever wanted to see the same could very well find them on Google, I went inside and firmly parked myself on a seat where there was no danger of meeting with the chilly Arabian Gulf.

For more information on the cost, how to get there etc. visit the website.

Japanese Celebrations at Souq Sharq (revelation: must visit Japan!)

A recently made friend (she should be starting a blog soon) and I went to the Japanese Celebrations at Souq Sharq Friday night to immerse ourselves in a little Japanese culture. We had a gala time!

To commemorate 50 years of relations with Nippon, Kuwait has been buzzing with all kinds of Japanese related activities and shows this week, like the Kendo Tournament (missed it), Japanese drums concert at Mishref (missed it, but there is a consolation!)  Gamarjobat at the Avenues (missed it *wails*).

I wasn't going to miss this.

We had a terrible time getting a parking spot and ended up in the area farthest away from the mall, in front of the fish market. Thank goodness we got a spot!

The celebrations took place outside in the crisp winter air. There were stalls selling Okonomiyaki (Japanese Pizza) and Japanese seafood dumplings. If you've read my Before I die list you'll understand why I stood in those immobile queues for over 20 minutes while my sweet friend (we need a name for you!) patiently waited with me. Making dumplings the Japanese way is quite a tedious process. I'm in two minds as to whether it was worth it. They tasted strange...

Okonomiyaki in cheese and seafood

First the strange dumpling maker is whisked clean

Then dumpling mix is poured in

With the filling strewn on top of each mold - cabbage,
spring onion, ginger, seafood stuff, grated carrot

Dumpling mix is poured over again
but I'm not sure if this is supposed to happen :-/

The dumplings, once they begin to take shape, are then turned manually, one by one, with a TOOTHPICK (that was the tedious part. I didn't get a picture of this)! Nobody, but nobody, can have more patience than the Japanese.
Waiting for the dumplings to turn the right shade of brown meant we'd lost the chance to get a seat on the steps for the show and I stood behind an elderly couple trying to get a good shot of the children singing Sukiyaki with my left hand, holding the cup of dumplings in my right. The guy had his arm around his wife (didn't see her face but I vividly remember the black and white pattern of her coat) and he kept trying to make eye contact with me but I was too wrapped up in the performance. But he continued doing so all through the song and when I finally turned to him about to mutter something in irritation, he pointed at my cup and then to his wife's coat, politely gesticulating what was supposed to mean, 'woman, lay off the coat'. He needn't have worried, I'm much more likely to drop stuff on myself than on other people. Unladylike? Yes, very *dies of shame*

They then sang the opening song of My Neighbour Totoro! =D I LOVE THIS SONG! Wish they'd also sung Tonari no Totoro.

A fashion show of kimonos of gorgeous hues followed. At this point, I got a seat. I missed the names of them all and a lady sitting next to me very kindly educated me a little on the exquisite dresses I had tried to take pictures of. Please correct me if my captions are wrong.

I can't remember what this one is

Furisode.
Formal Kimono for unmarried women.

Semi-formal kimonos for both married and unmarried women

Definitely my favourite.
This was with a square necked jacket
(she's holding it)

                                                     

Informal kimono with trousers,
now worn as a school uniform

Bridal kimono

And then came the consolation I mentioned earlier.

A fusion of beats from a Japanese Taiko drum with that of the violin and saxophone. I'm not a fan of jazz music so I wasn't too keen when the sax came out, but this performance captivated me. Note the soulful playing of the violinist. I apologize for the abrupt end, it was at that point that my memory card decided it had had its fill.

Going shirtless was a big hit with the crowd!

An ear for applause

And then? The Ban Odori folk dance! The audience was asked to join in. I really wanted to but I was on the top of the steps and the place was packed.                                  

Ban Odori! This looked like so much fun!

A quick look at the stalls before leaving.

Ikebana (flower arrangements) from Tokyo

This stall had pix of the aftermath
of the earthquake

Resilience.

I didn't visit some of the other stalls but I stopped by the Origami one to make a crane (the bird).

A lady making a crane at the Origami stall
It's NOT as easy as it looks

There were other oddities on the table of the Origami stall like boats, boxes, shurikens (!!).. wish I'd made a shuriken instead of a crane. Although I can't really say I made a crane, the helpful lady there did most of it!

I took a shuriken home. I feel like a shinobi from Konoha ;)
(you won't get this unless you've watched Naruto)

*sigh*
Must visit Japan. Soon.