saturday

Mirage promised to be a "ravishing processional performance, evoking the landscapes and traditions of Africa inspired by travels in Ethiopia and South Africa" according to the website, so I went.

We were about 10-20 minutes late from the stipulated time, 9.36pm (??!!) but when we finally arrived at Roman Road to be pleasantly ravished, all we saw was a scattered small crowd. There were more law enforcement officials than audience, even.

Then there was a ruckus from afar, some smoke and strobe lighting... and Indian music. And thus, voodoo robots with flashing elongated nipple-like eyebulbs were summoned.

Breathing in the heady, exotic African (mixed with ciggie) smoke and staring hypnotised at flashing lights exploding from the top of the heads of Tall People surrounding me... all I could do was helplessly give up on my struggling efforts... and passed the camera to the taller one. No way I could stretch my arm high enough to get a decent shot. And no way could I accept the offer for a shoulder-ride because I certainly don't look 5, and/or someone might throw a bottle at me from the back, if my kind and noble steed hasn't died of a crushed spine or torn body part or both. Yes, because I'm that heavy, see.

And yes, those were real people (not real African performers though, sadly) marching with half-opened real umbrellas. Why were they neither closed nor open, I don't know. Just like how I don't know why the dancers screeched and snarled with teeth bared at the audience. Must be the ever-watchful, ever-bright voodoo robot's eyes at the back.

More screeching and snarling performers slamming painted aluminium hoarding. Maybe a lot of them couldn't see well in the dark and slammed hoarding on toes, hence the screeches and snarls. Maybe they're even paid to do that for more realistic and rich screeches! *horrified* I didn't enjoy this segment. They sounded similar, but not as good as, my high school brass band. They looked dissimilar from, and not as good as, videos I've seen of Stomp! and the likes. Part of the reason, also, could be because there was an old couple with the woman in wheelchair stuck in the middle of the crowd with no one offering to let them get to the front. I felt irritated enough not being able to see anything but she's at my waist-level! And I didn't see that many interesting-looking butts that night.

Speaking of wheelchairs, a few blokes were strapped on to them and made to play drums while being pulled backwards with lampshades over their heads. Sure hard to see their facial expressions from the layers of paint, this one captured and forever frozen by camera had to be bewilderment. I'd be too, if I remind people of a cymbals-crashing wind-up monkey.

Next up, fire. A burst of flame of any size and the crowd oooh-ed and aaah-ed. Nevermind it's an armadillo on fire with more fire shooting out of its ass.

Man hanging from a giant horn pulling acrobatic stunts with fire cackling merrily down below. I like roasting my chicken wing at BBQs this far above the fire too. Mind you, it probably takes longer to cook the wing, but the meat's evenly cooked and juicy and not burnt to a crisp on one end, and uncooked on the other. And I don't know why but it seems apt to bring in the subject now.

More and more giant African animals roamed the streets of Bow. By this time I was sick of trooping behind the procession up and down the street like an extra in some horror movie where the villagers march up to the giant tree to burn the witch. So we stood on the pavement somewhere and just snapped pictures of whatever's passing by.

The grand finale. Ooooh. Aaaah.