The postmodern and the subaltern

On the bus traveling back from Kibera on Tuesday I giggled at the two notices: 'No Hawking', and 'No Preaching' plastered in front of the TV that plays UNICEF advertorials. Preaching is something I encountered on my first day in Nairobi; my hotel hosts a charismatic church on Sunday mornings, right next to the restaurant. Downstairs, off the lobby is a Casino that is always open. I wonder if the two are associated? Perhaps just in my subversive mind...

Across from the hotel is 'Simmers' a bar that has been keeping me up most nights. This morning when I woke at 3.30 it was discharging the last of its customers. So it was with a slight hint of resentment that I went to Simmers last night... I needed a beer though! A friend from KU had been showing me 'the other Nairobi' - an area beyond the great divide posed by Moi Avenue that is considerably less ordered than the city I have become accustomed to this week. This could be a city in Asia. Colonial office buildings have been subdivided into small units arranged into spontaneous districts of small shops selling electronic goods, clothes, hardware etc. A neglect of town planning controls has allowed for the creation of a dense, noisy, busy and strangely exhilirating series of spaces. In a meeting with a colleague from U. Nairobi we talked about the element of surprise in African cities. Many surprises await one beyond Moi Avenue.

So back at Simmers we discussed these contrasts as the Congolese musicians started gyrating on the stage. The music was strangely hypnotic; I like it a lot. The musicians were particularly interesting. Six of them made intermittent appearances and their dancing and interactions on stage were mesmerising. There was something confrontational about their presence, due largely to their atire. One particular singer commanded attention wearing a long black coat (initially flung over one shoulder) sporting white scale-like inscriptions, tight black pants with a bold Dolce and Gabbana belt buckle and a black hat, perched to the side. My friend tells me his intention is to appear as an undertaker symbolic of the plight of the DRC. This man was not a victim however. He was delivering commentary; I still have not really come to grips with what that was....