Bongo beats and schoolastic treats

In yet another exciting week here in the Luangwa Valley, I've been especially lucky in making some particularly memorable trips recently outside the park, into the surrounding Mfuwe area.


The first trip was to Chiwawatala School, which is a local school sponsored by Mfuwe Lodge (where I'm staying). I'm going to be putting together a short film about the school and the success of the Lodge's sponsorship programme, and so was making an initial recce and to meet the teachers and children. The highlight of the trip was when we entered one of the classes and the 70 or so pupils inside broke into the most amazing song. In a few minutes the whole place had erupted in children singing, dancing and shrieking, and as I moved through the musical throng to film it all, I felt very, very privileged to be witnessing such a spectacle.


The second trip I made was to Peter Mambwe's village, which like the school is a short drive from the national park, along the dusty road that connects the gatherings of small huts and shops that make up the Mfuwe area.

Being the local chief and somewhat of a entrepreneur, Peter has started a small enterprise at his village, whereby tourists, travellers and cultural explorers can come and spend the afternoon there to learn about local customs and traditions, and experience some of their dances and songs. On enquiring as to why I hadn't filmed at his village yet, I told Peter that I was waiting to be invited, and sure enough, two hours later we were sat under a big old mango tree as his villagers prepared themselves for the performance.

As we waited expectantly in the shade, the villagers that had gathered around us on the grass mats slowly began to beat their drums and twang their metal instruments to the rhythm. A rustling behind one of the huts, and then appeared a man dressed in a mask made of feathers, flailing and wailing to the drum beat, which was now picking up its tempo.

Unfortunately after the first 30 minutes of what can only be described as 'moving African theater', the battery went on my video camera, and the spare battery had also drained in the heat. So although I didn't get that much footage this time, I think it's a very good excuse to go back again soon and film some more!

Next, following the 'man of many feathers', the women slowly rose to their feet,and winding and swaying to the music, they now entered the circle.
By the point the ceremony had reached its peak, there were men beating drums, women lolling their tongues creating high-pitched cries and shrieking, young children were blowing whistles and beating out the rhythm with their feet on the ground, and younger children still simply looked on in wonder, seemingly nearly as amazed as me. I think it's these moments that makes Africa so special to me, and this was one in particular that I hope to remember for a very long time.

As we left Peter didn't even have to ask me what I thought of the performance, I think the massive boyish grin on my face gave me away.