Wazza Reggae Hymns

The other night I attended a concert in Rawabet Theater. I really didn't know what I was attending but some friends were going. I had initially thought it was a play but thought to myself, why not? I haven't attended a concert in so long. My friend told me that those guys rocked and people would dance to their music.

The theater was packed, and it appeared that the band had a following. What struck me the most was the type of audience which I haven't been accustomed to. There were so many veiled girls in the audience and the extra shocking surprise of a niqabi woman.

I must admit, the energy was high. People were excited. I closed my eyes and the crowd I imagined based on what I heard is not the crowd I saw when I opened my eyes. Slowly but surely the crowd began to stand up and start moving. As I listened to the songs, they sounded like hymns more common in a Christian arena in the manner that God was addressed at least. These reggae hymns moved the crowd and a long line of veiled girls started dancing to the reggae music. The niqabi woman on the other hand did not stand up but started breast feeding her child.

I must admit it was a slightly strange sight and triggered many thoughts. I wondered if we were in dire need of dancing and were just waiting for an excuse to move our bodies. I also wondered if the same people who provided the fatwa that a hijab is compulsory would approve of this type of dance. Of course it's a meaningless debate because the hijab isn't compulsory except from a social perspective, rather than from religious reasoning. I also wondered about the music ensemble which contained 4 guitars and one drum set. A friend of mine who wasn't overly conservative had pointed out to me that stringed instruments are 'haram' (not allowed) in Islam. I was never able to verify this, but that such an idea exists means that someone out there must be preaching it.

It was a little perplexing when one of the guests of the band started singing ala Boy Zone meets Tamer Hosny. I wondered where the line between reggae hymns and pop music is drawn exactly and what was going on in the minds of these young girls. Probably nothing, as they grew accustomed to. To top off the night, an Egyptian came on and rapped in French and then proceeded to speak to the crowd. He told them that whites and blacks are Africans, and that Africa is about love and then the biggest revelation of the night, that even Asians are Africans.

After the grand revelation, I had to leave to sort out all this new information in my head, about Asians, dancing, hijab and music.

Death of a King - Michael Jackson

There are very few who would not appreciate nor understand the indescribable feeling of loss concerning the death of arguably the greatest musician of our time. No matter what you might think of him, there is no way that anyone who understands a thing or two about music or dancing cannot but admire Michael Jackson’s talent.

Michael Jackson caused a great deal of commotion because he was different and didn't belong anywhere. Ever since his youth, it seemed as if everyone loved him for his talent and uniqueness but rejected him for the same reasons. There is a lot of contrast between MJ and Peter Pan, effectively they're both kids who never grew up and they have their own Neverland. Jackson would visit his Neverland and bring us back the most unique, beautiful and amusing ideas, songs and dance moves. It seemed he had a bag of ideas like Sport Billy's out of which he would dig in and bring out something marvelous. Could it be that MJ will find immortality like that of Peter Pan through his music?

But what am I really trying to say? I think that many were afraid because Michael Jackson was so different. The trouble with the human race is that we want to belong and not just that, we want others to belong. Michael belonged to childhood, and the adult world could not accept that. He belonged to Neverland, but that was so inconceivable. It was as if everyone was fighting, and needing him to belong. The black people wanted him black and got angry when his skin color underwent changes. Didn't all our ideals in this modern age revolve around the insignificance of skin color?

"Dont tell me you agree with me,
When I saw you kicking dirt in my eye"

~Black or White.

When his skin color changed, he actually did prove that skin color doesn't matter, but the world would not accept what it had preached. They did not accept that it didn't matter what the skin color really was because there was the same human underneath.

"Im not going to spend
My life being a color"

Even MJ as a white man wasn't welcomed. He was much too different, he was from a different world, and quickly the controversy of child molestation started taking form. There had to be something wrong with him. I know and confess he was indeed different, his whole body structure, his face, and everything in him, but did we really have to reject him for it?

He was different, he had to be something we understood, otherwise we could not accept him. He had to fall into a mould otherwise we wouldn't know what to do with him. His creativity was marked as eccentricity, and he was ridiculed and mocked in an age that advocates freedom and equality, yet when it comes to something different, how quickly we return to being conformists. We want freedom boxed by a set of boundaries we understand.

"You talk about equality and the truth either you're wrong or you're right."

If Michael Jackson taught us anything, he taught us that we can sometimes be the biggest hypocrites, advocating one thing and doing another. He taught us that there is great music that can be created, new ideas and he taught us that people differ.

Michael Jackson was an alien, but while our tolerance might have not been enough to accept him for all that he is, our emotions were enough to love him and admire his work.

This is a tribute to the man who brought me Billie Jean, Black or White, Liberian Girl, Smooth Criminal, Little Susie and so many more; someone whose musical genius moved mountains, forced people to respect him; someone who’s dance moves inspired millions; someone who suffered the scrutiny of a world that did not want to leave him alone in peace; someone who has been grabbed by fans, harassed by reporters, crucified by the media and disdained by people. This is a tribute to a legend who despite how different he was, despite how confused he might have been and made us feel, earned our love and compassion and our best salutation.

“Neglection can kill, like a knife in the soul”

I’m sad and sorry that he’s gone, but I pray that the King of Pop receives in death the kind of peace he was never able to attain in life.

Thank God for Music

Thank God for music in films and dramas. The sound of a scream in real life is scary, it spells catastrophe and is very disturbing. When it is on screen, it loses this effect because there's some sort of background music during the scream or after it. This music takes you to drama and make-belief and tells your mind that it's just for show. The harrowing experience is toned down a little.

But the really scary movies are those that take you closest to reality, not the ones with zombies and ghosts or ridiculous serial killers, but those that take you to situations very close to reality. It's those scenes that could happen to you, when the build up is so masterfully done that you could imagine yourself being there. In those scenes there's usually no music, just a situation that's horrifyingly real.

That's why I'm thankful that in most other movies there is music with the screams. Because when I hear a powerful scream from a neighbor's place, the music background assures me that it's the television.