29 April
Second day into the festival, and every minute it’s meet and greet with old friends, fellow artists and some acquaintances that I was so excited to see again. Per and I found a central spot at the Coca Cola Green Zone -water hole if you like – free access and everyone comes there for food and drink and there is a cool chilling area with different bands playing at different times.
Its around 28 degrees and people come streaming from all different angles, shrieking voices, screams here and there and there were some who would pass a comment gossiping about those who just walked past talking at the top of their voices about a show that they have just watched, or a show from the previous day. The mood is indescribable, its peace and love in the air, heads are held high, art is the topic, it’s the kind of festival mood some would normally see on TV, but here we are, in the middle of it all and its for real and we can feel it, it’s here!
From our well chosen seating spot, we could see everyone coming into the green zone… more a like a catchment area… greet everyone I knew on their way in or out… hehehehehhe in Zim a hello is for free!
We were joined by other fellow artists, and of course discussions started about the theatre shows that we had watched earlier. It’s hot and nice and I’m sipping a soft drink “Stoney ginger beer”. A friend of mine Rutendo passes by so I excuse myself from the discussion, left my drink behind and pace up to catch up with her… On my return, the discussion is still going on, with Blessing Hungwe describing the extensive research he did for his show Burn Makwerekwere Burn (a play about xenophobia –a brilliant and well done show if I may say so). Seating there attentively, I remembered my soft drink and decided to finish it off. So I lift the can up in the air to empty the sweet soft drink into my mouth; all of a sudden I felt something on my upper lip, soft (and I think to my self how did a soft paper get into my drink..) a split of a second later…a sharp sting piece harshly through my upper lip, (split of a second a later)… I brush my lip vigorously…. and a bee falls off on my lap……(how did a bee end up in my drink, and…the questioning thought process cuts off….. and the throbbing pain takes over, panic grips me “it’s a festival, and definitely I don’t want to rush from one show to the next let alone meet all the people I know with a swollen lip… what will people think”……if you have ever had a busy bee on your flesh, you know what I mean!
A friend rushes to the drinks counter and brings a pack of ice blocks, one small ice block under the lip and another on top of the lip. I just have to cool the pain down and hopefully avoid swelling up. “A bee sting means luck” shouted one man who´s watching the bee-sting drama from a distance. Some bee “experts” take a close look at my lip, and confirm that the bee didn’t leave its “tail” therefore I was not going to swell up, and that ice was going to do me good… and that I was lucky, they added. So from talking about the plays we had watched and other festival happenings, the discussion switched to talking about the bee sting. Time ticked away, ten, -fifteen, -thirty minutes passed and no signs of swelling up, (a deep sigh), and I thought to myself I’m lucky after all my lip didn’t swell up!
Kudzai