Drumming up support for the newlyweds

So let me share with you my impressions of a wedding we attended today.

This was the first time I can remember being the wedding band. And we were golden! The couple had requested that the OGADE group provide background music for the guests, although African drumming is not, by nature, a background type of activity. Far from it.

The day started out raining and dreary and progressed from there to dreary and raining. The location was at a farm and wilderness preserve some 20 km west of the city of Hamilton, Ohio. Although J and I were almost the first of the band to arrive, almost every available parking place was occupied, so I was directed to a space behind the drive shed.

After unloading Jo and her djembe as close as I could to the pavilion (a massive white plastic tent at the margins of a very large lawn), I drove around as instructed, but lost my nerve when I put the car into reverse and the wheels turned and spun in two ruts made for and by the occasion. Neona and I solved the problem by parking her behind another car on the lawn. No ruts for the wicked.

Entering the tent, we located our spot in the far corner, next to a very large white box with a vent on the bottom. The family had rented this massive electric heater to blow hot air into the tent. There was another one at the opposite end.

At least a hundred people were convening as the rest of our group rendezvoused and began to noodle on the various instruments. L had brought a melodious metal balafon which he had made at a workshop in Ghana. It has a beautiful sound and plays easily, enough to be heard over the thumping of the djembes and dunduns and bucking up the courage of the quavering flute.

One of our members lives up the road. He had the sense to drive his tractor, should any of the guests' vehicles require extrication from the muddiness. He is also a fine gourd and scraper player, never breaking the rhythm, which helps when you are striving for syncopation.

Our first number was a hot one indeed. The massive electric heater was working at full bore, and although the tempo stayed constant, the temperature shot up. However, this was only a temporary problem, since during the next piece, the heater failed, and only cold, moist air blasted us. Through it all, great artists that we were, we kept the beat.

Then, it came time for the ceremony. Everyone stood up throughout, which meant that nobody could see properly. Some knew how to use the sound system while others did not. The usual stuff, although I must say in retrospect that this was the first time I had heard someone read "Green Eggs and Ham" by Dr. Seuss as a wedding blessing or whatever it was. Other magic moments were applauded enthusiastically as well, and to our surprise and delight, one of the valedictorians read the lyrics of Leonard Cohen's "Dance me to the end of love". Then came the vows, accompanied by the ring falling in the mud (as I later learned), and the circle of life moved on.

At that point the thumping of J's lone djembe invited us to ramp up the celebration again. Quickly the Billyphon joined the fray, and soon all the drummers, shakers and scrapers were in the thick of it once again. Finally hunger prevailed and conversation resumed.

The reception food delighted everyone, the vegetarians in particular. Have you ever experienced a spinach salad with parmesan and strawberry slices?

I believe I inadvertently shared my hot dog with the family springer spaniel. I accidentally dropped the other half of it, and he, a member of a noted family of conservationists, determined that it not be wasted. The numerous bottles of free wine were not wasted either.

At the end of it all, packing up and heading home, we said our goodbyes. Our leader reminded us that Monday night we were due for one more rehearsal with the belly dancers. I'm so glad he didn't say, "Billydancers". I don't dance. Don't ask me.