by Stuart Yochem

Have you ever thought that, through song, you could shed light on the creation of the world, understand the nature of human beings, communicate with spirits of the past, or even contact a family of gorillas? Though the first three may be plausible for some of you, I know that I have never thought it possible to contact a gorilla family…nor have I wanted to! (Gorillas can be pretty violent). It seems however that if you are a member of the Fang Tribe of Equatorial Guinea, you can do all of these things. Interested? This Friday evening at 7:30, Madrid’s Auditorio Nacional de Música will be hosting a performance called Mèndzang mé yè Cavan, featuring a number of famous Fang authors and performers. The show, a part of the Auditorium’s Ethnic Music Cycle, will delve into the oral tradition of the Fang and enlighten people on what it is to use song as a primary communication device. So first off, as many of you are as ill informed about the Fang as I, let’s look into the tribe’s past and understand how their oral tradition has led them to monkey calling.

The Fang are a Bantu-speaking tribe who currently live in Equatorial Guinea, Gabon and Cameroon but originated in northern Sudan. Centuries ago, the tribe began an exodus that lasted generations. They journeyed through Asia, drifted across the Red Sea, spent some time in Egypt, meandered through the nearby deserts and savannas and eventually landed in Guinea in the late eighteenth century. The migration was not over, folks. Following their stay in Guinea, they took up life in the forest, a symbol of great importance in Fang culture. It is ingrained in the spirit of the Fang to respect the forest, as a giant tree called the Àdzàp acts as a yearlong barrier to entrance into their new home. After a short four generations, it seems that the Àdzàp tree has given most tribe members the green light. Final destination: Equatorial Guinea, where today the Fang remain the country’s numerically largest ethnic group.

Along with their forest dwelling, the Fang base their unity on a keen ability to keep up with oral tradition. The communal house of the word, translated in Bantu as the Abáá, is located at the center of the village and is used as a communication channel. In the house lives various instruments, including the Nkúú, a large sacred drum, the Mbeña a vertical drum made of skinned antelope, and the Olonga, a hollow trunk used to communicate in the forest. The Olonga’s sound reaches up to a whopping five kilometers! What better reason to ditch your costly cell phones and invest in a more original device to call friends?

Besides having an adept ability to communicate with distinct instruments, the Fang have some other rituals that have stirred up some heated debates among both tribe members as well as outsiders. The most controversial of the rituals is the sacrifice of widows. In the Fang culture, after a chief dies his wives must undergo sacrifice. I don’t imagine that either westerners coming into the country, nor feminists, nor any woman in her right mind would agree with this custom! María Nsué, 63, is an actor in the upcoming performance and went as far as to write a book about the atrocious practice. The book, called Ekomo (1985), tells the story of a Fang woman who breaks taboos by speaking out after the death of her husband. Ekomo is the first novel written and published by an Equatoguinean woman.

Now that we have a synopsized knowledge of the Fang culture, we can go into this Friday’s performance with at least a basic understanding of what’s going on. Among the performers include the above-mentioned María Nsué as well as Donato Ndongo-Bidyogo. Nsué, who was born in 1945 Equatorial Guinea to Fang parents, immigrated to Spain when she was eight-years-old. In Spain, she studied literature and discovered a great passion for writing. She returned to Equatorial Guinea where she worked for the country’s Ministry of Culture and Education. Today, Nsué is a permanent resident in Madrid. In the performance, Nsué will act as a storyteller and use song and several Fang instruments to express the actions and emotions of the tribe’s people.

Alongside Nsué will be Donato Ndongo-Bidyogo, 58, who is also native to Equatorial Guinea and today is a renowned writer and journalist. Ndongo is a member of the movement of young, Afro-descended authors who have contributed their African experience to Hispanic culture. The most acclaimed of his works include The History and Tragedy of Equatorial Guinea (1977) and The Spanish Commerce with Africa (1980). Besides his fantastic list of written works, Ndongo has also served as the adjunct direction for Nuestra Señora de África de Madrid (Our Lady of Africa in Madrid) and Centro Cultural Hispaño-Guineano de Malabo (the Center for Hispanic-Guinean Culture in Malabo). Ndongo will be act as an interpreter in the performance.

Nsué and Ndongo will be accompanied by several other actors and performers playing various different Fang instruments. The storyline will surely leave audience members sitting on the edge of their seats as a war breaks out between humans and monkeys. The theme of the performance is memory and how to recover the past through song. Songs include the abduction, the exodus of the gorillas, and the nanny.

Those of you out there who are seeking a glimpse into a lifestyle far different than your own, this may be your best bet. Prepare to be transported to Indigenous Africa!

by Jeanne Reidy

It made me feel a little bit better and like less of a baby to hear the others in the European Vibe office complaining about the heat. Where I live, in Chicago, we don´t see this kind of heat until mid-July. Until then, we crave it, beg for it and seek out every bit of sun we can find. Then, once it hits, we whine, crank up the air conditioning and go to the beach. In other words, I´m not used to this kind of heat at this point in the season, with few options to counteract it.

Honestly, I´m scared for what this Mediterranean climate has to bring. I don´t have a house on the coast to escape to every weekend like other Madrileños. Whenever I tell someone from the city that I´m staying in Madrid for the summer they look at me like I´m crazy and say, ¨You do know how hot it gets here, don´t you?”. A French man living in Madrid told me that he is moving back to Paris for the summer because he can´t handle the heat. To that I thought, ¨What have I gotten myself into? Why am I coming to a city that everyone else is deserting?”.

I´ll do my best to jump on the band-wagon of running off to the coasts every chance I get but after a semester of studying abroad, my bank account is about as dry as the summer air.

This past weekend was the first time I noticed a drastic difference in the number of people in Madrid. Everyone has told me that the city is empty in July and August but I never thought it would be so noticeable in a huge city like Madrid. I was wrong. Retiro on Saturday afternoon seemed like a ghost town. Heading to the park, I thought I´d have to overlap my blanket with the person next to me due to the crowds. I thought there would be a line around the block for water and popsicles on such a gorgeous summer afternoon. Never did I think that I would have my choice of location on the grass, far enough away from any of the other park goers.

It would be one thing if I didn´t feel the stares at my flip-flops and shorts from Spaniards on the street and the Metro. I know they think I´m crazy to be wearing a bathing suit in Retiro. I´m still amazed to see girls in leather boots and men and women in jackets and scarves in this kind of heat. If they don´t think this is hot, I´m worried to see what is to come.

I guess for now I´ll just suck it up and wear my sandals and sit in the shade whenever possible. But if it gets any worse, I´ll be on the next train to the coast. Who is with me?