I wake to find Mike ripping up the carpet in the hallway; it's noisy, arduous, and necessary, so I guess I'll give him a hand.
I hope they can repair that banister.
We walk, later, to Sunripe, a garden market nearby filled with perfect produce, meat, incredible cheeses, nuts, seafood. I wish we could pick up more but we have to carry back whatever we buy, and it's sweltering already. I restrict myself to a bunch of raspberries, and the ingredients we'll need for a couple of breakfasts. We plan to head to London's Sunfest once we've eaten.
I have another headache. Maybe it's the loss of my usual morning coffee...
Sunfest is a vast sea of booths, filled with jingling shawls, shirts, swords, food, pictures, buttons, and anything that will stay still long enough to be bought. Despite how entranced I am by the sights, I only buy a wrap dress that doubles as a skirt, and a few postcards and buttons that highlight political issues close to my heart, ("no cars", "Don't try to legislate morality" "Amazon-in-training" you know, the essentials.)
The shops, however, are not what we've come for. (although the Vietnamese salad rolls are so good, I eat 4. Ohh my organs!)
The first show tonight is a group of Truvan throat singers, their voices rising eerily, creating a melody that catapults me back to an older time, riding skittish heavy Mongolian horses past acres of vast plains. Although the deep male voices sound like cartoon Dwarves with gout, when they "throat sing" they produce three notes each. One deep, a base line, one middle, the melody, and a high piping flute, an eerie winding harmony. They play the accordion with a few songs, the Erhu (a type of Chinese violin; sounds incredible, if you have a chance to hear it, I highly recommend it) with most, wood blocks with a couple, and many with my favorite instrument; tiny cymbals that sound like spurs. I'm so enchanted with their music, I buy their CD, the first I have purchased in a LONG time.
The only other act we have time for, unfortunately, was a Taiko drumming band. Although they are not as moving as Chirgulchin (the throat singers), the powerful mix of grace and speed, technique and passion makes me vow to start training in martial arts again.
I wake from my revelry, so deeply hypnotized by the performance I didn't see or hear Donna approaching, to hear Donna's friend, Charmane, wonder why they are so subdued. Although the four performers are working incredibly hard, sweat pouring off the main drummer, she says when they really get going, "It's like fire pouring off the stage". She tells me of a famous 15 person, all female, Taiko drumming group. I watch the group play, and wonder if I could learn this somewhere in Edmonton.
I plan to skip writing Day the sixth, since the day I should post it, I will be traveling to London, England, and I would rather not worry about posting. Besides, pretty much nothing happened. I got up re-packed, had ice-cream, looked at cars (Jasmine's buying one) and danced my feet off to a Celtic/Italian fusion band at Sunfest. It was awesome going through, but not very fascinating to read about. When next I post, I ought to be in England! My flight leaves at 5:00 today from Toronto, all, wish me luck!