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Tales of Tyre-racing, Makis and M'zungus.
12 novembre 2012

Dancing on Tanaraki

          

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The friends we had over during the holidays were a girl my age and her mother, both of whom we'd met while doing a musical exchange between our Poitiers folk group and theirs, near the Puy du Fou in the Vendée region. So to keep them busy, we decided to take them dancing one morning. At 9 a.m. By 30°C, on a beach called Tanaraki.

We met up with Francis and a few dancers on the beach and started playing for them. The dance leader didn't seem to take very well to our friends, though, as they interrupted him a couple of times to correct the dance steps... don't think he liked that very much! They taught the dancers a few traditional dances from their area, which were interesting for everybody.

        

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We played and danced for a couple of hours, had something to eat all together, some went swimming while others sat around and chatted. Dancing on wooden shelter floors with holes isn't the easiest exercise in the world, nor the cleanest for that matter, but the dancers didn't seem to mind. Apparently easier than dancing on sand with assorted tree roots and stones.

Near the end of the morning, a percussionist made his appearance. As it turned out, Ali lived just above the beach and had been watching us for our last few rehearsals on said beach (What a hard life!). He'd finally decided he liked us and wanted to play with us, and even though he wasn't used to our rhythms, the drum was an interesting addition to the group. I don't know whether we'll see him again, but he's welcome.

          

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