There's no down-in-front with a camel, really.
The 8th Festival in the Desert began a couple of hours ago, with several thousand people sitting and standing in the cool, white sand at the edge of the oasis at Essekane. The sun set just as the event kicked off, silhouetting robed men, veiled women and camels on all the surrounding ridges. On the small, raised stage there were speeches by notables including the local governor and Mali's Minister of Culture.
Then the music began, with the opening provided by Tamnana, a traditional ensemble of men and women from Essekane who drum, chant, clap and ululate. They're a big hit with the locals, and it turns out that demonstrations of musical appreciation hereabouts take the form of camel tricks. When the spirit moves them, nomads on camelback suddenly charge down from the dunes to the front of the stage, where they coax their camels down to "walk" on their front knees
– a much-admired feat. Or they dismount and launch sudden sword fights with phantom opponents, before swinging back up and charging the camel back and forth in front of the stage a few times. It's the Tuareg version of the mosh pit, and it's magical to watch, but it does tend to blot out the action on the stage.There are now an estimated 10,000 people gathered on this patch of sand at the edge of the Sahara; they poured in all day long. White tents made of thick cotton have sprung up as far as the eye can see in all directions
– artists and tourists and reporters and dignitaries at the centre near the stage, with the Tuareg who are coming from all corners of the desert choosing to remain further out.There was an extraordinary parade of camels in mid-afternoon
– the camel racing starts tomorrow, so the beasts had to be registered, which was a good excuse to show them off. Every camel rider names his beast – emerging from my tent, I was nearly stomped on by one whose name means, in English, "She always wants to eat."The camels are decked out in intricately tooled leather harnesses, and high-backed saddles, in which their riders lounge, looking for all the world like they are on loping armchairs. The perpetually-hungry camel's rider told me she frequently goes 15 days without drinking, when they are on long trading trips in the desert; the next camel-driver over sneered a little at this and told me that his beast has gone three months without a drink, on occasions. I have no idea if this can be true, or if it's like young Canadian men boasting about the speed of their cars.
The Canadian delegation, the troupe Artcirq from Igloolik, was meant to screen a film tonight
– Atanarjuat, the Fast Runner, by Zacharias Kunuk. He was supposed to be part of the delegation, in fact. But in Igloolik, they are about to celebrate the annual event of the Return of the Sun, after the worst of the Arctic winter, celebrations of which he is in charge, and so he was obliged to decline the invitation to the desert. Instead, the troupe brought the film and projection equipment, and hoped to show it on the side of a dune – but everything got underway a few hours late (that's a recurring theme here) after the trucks bringing the sound equipment got mired in the sand (that's another recurring theme.) Maybe tomorrow.Music is set to go on at the main stage until 2 o'clock this morning, while the informal jam sessions (which a couple of hours ago saw some of the Inuit musicians playing with the reggae troupe from Ivory Coast who live in the tent next to them) go on around small fires all night long.
And as if the whole event were not wacky enough, Vogue magazine's U.S. edition has decided that this is the perfect setting for a fashion photo shoot, and dispatched a peripatetic Swedish photographer, three assistants, two stylists and a model into Essekane.
Whatever it is we're all meant to be wearing for spring, you can be sure it will feature camels.
