an elemental soul

went to listen to listen to some drummers at a local shrine. starts at 12 and goes on until the early morning...

just off the main road, we passed through a large rusting gate and down a gently sloping road. on both sides stalls had been set up: food, bracelets, religious pendants, drugs, tea. one side of the wall was painted shocking bright red and deep forest-green. on the other there were beggars, turbaned missionaries, and fakirs lounging about in an induced reverie...

we walked up two flights of steep stairs (no hand rails) until we came to a door that led, mysteriously, into an open rooftop courtyard-as if into another world. in the courtyard, which was quite small, a large number of people (mainly poor young men, some with fake armani t-shits) sat huddled at the feet of the drummers...

we made our way through the crowd. to one side a number of candles had been placed in a hollowed out stone wall, next to small tree. a few men stopped in front of it and put their hands together before the smoky fires, prayer-like, as we took our shoes off. the fires, protected and protecting...

a beautiful summer breeze rustled through the leaves of two huge trees nearby. s said it was a blessing. an old man with a large wooden stick gently tapped people on the shoulder to make sure they didn't stand up, as another sprayed some scented water on us. and all around was the sweet smell of drugs (hash?), generously shared...

the beat: incredible, and often piercing. the aim to induce ecstasy-ex-stasis: to get 'out of oneself'. occasionally the drummer would throw his head back and sweat would fly off in all directions. the dancers swirled around them, their movements often frenetic, crazy, semi-structured. some were spinning as if on an invisible axis whilst others vigorously moved their heads from side to side or raised their outstretched arms to heaven...

well, quite an odd experience for someone from my background, for someone with a dry, elemental, grey soul, an almost puritanical temperament that likes to think that religious intensity is not something that can be orchestrated or generated without silence and solitude. but, but, this is the religion of the land, and there are 'many mansions'...