Only in Cape Town will you find a smooth, schweet dinner-jorl venue buried in the basement of one of our most famous kerks, St George’s Cathedral.
The Crypt, in silky navy, with granite pillars and plaques checkering the walls in rememberance of umlungus who got Darwinned by the (bleeps), is an oddity if ever.
By down here, there is another Africa, another realm. OK, the seating was a bit of a gemors; if you didn’t book din-dins you were banished to the bar where we fought over barstools like the rich fight for views in Clifton.
We were here to hear Afro Fiesta, a four-man one woman outfit who created a vibe which was new to me in this fritzing, crumbling period.
They are part of the Music for Change movement, a network of 500 musos globally who run a handful of music schools in places like Gugulethu, Ghana, Mali and Nepal.
It’s lakka to have a vibe at a show which is so friendly and bouncey where nobody got hurt and everyone instantly seemed to like each other. For a few hours.
This was typified by the women. Ya, there were gorgeous women there and I know because the moment those infectious Afro vibes started tripping along, about eight women got into the half-metre of space between the tables and the stage and started jiving. I mean, really getting it on. No holding back, just free-form pure expressionism.
You know, if women feel this relaxed and happy and safe, in SA, then it’s a marvellous sign of good things happening.
The music was from East and West Africa, some Afro-blues, salsa, funk and, no matter how shy or stodgy us ous can feel, I found my feet doing the talking.
Thanks to the sweet film guy who bought me a round or two and got to know everyone who came past.
From SA drilling the Wallabies, to this – letting go and showing ourselves and the world that we are happy.
Well, Gotta thank Afro Fiesta for that, world.