Capoeira in the Park or I don't speak French

I've been wandering through parks recently. Yesterday was the Kensington Gardens and today I walked through Regent's park on my way to Camden market. At the Kensington Gardens I realized that I was tapping my foot to something, and so set off to find the origin of the rhythm. It was this little family group where the adults were playing whatever the instruments are called that accompany capoeira and these two little boys were doing the kicks and stuff. And by little, I mean they couldn't have been more than four years old. It was very cute. And then today in a band stand near the Queen's garden there were a bunch of twenty-somethings jumping around. (I wish I remembered the names of the moves or anything more authentic sounding than "jumping around" and "kicking.") Anyhow, it was cool and now I want to go to all the other parks and see if they all have bands of people doing capoeira. It might be a city wide movement, you know.

And the French. French would have been useful at the concert yesterday (or just in general for eaves dropping purposes. A remarkable number of people around here chatter away in French.) The opening band was eh. So-so. At one point he started talking and I'm pretty sure asked if it would be okay if he spoke French, and a massive "OUI" swept the crowd. From there on in, I was lost. Also, there was this woman sitting right behind me that kept randomly hollering Aiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyi (and no, that is not an exaggeration: it was long, loud, repetitive, and high pitched) Some other people were doing it on lower levels and it actually sounded pretty cool, but not right next to your(my) ear. Then it was just painful. That being said: Rachid Taha was awesome.

I'm all for any band that has tons of energy where the musicians roam about the stage and actually interact. (It's one of my favorite things about the Baltimore Consort). Rachid came out in a black suit with a shiny, orange tie and a white cowboy hat. He clearly loves being a rock start and was eating up all the screaming for him. Women kept climbing on to the stage. At one point there were twenty of them dancing away (I counted.) But it was really good, and fun and I have *no* idea what any of the songs were about because they were all either in French or Arabic. But high energy goodness none the less. (I get the feeling a bunch of the songs were political, but like I said: I have no idea.) Speaking of awesome live bands: Ozomatli is coming to the Barbican on April 13th.

Today I went to Camden Market where all of the merchandise is remarkably uniform. (I'm in a computer lab nearby instead of my regular one, and I must say: I like mine better. The guy who is in my regular one from Monday-Friday is much more pleasant. His name is Ronny and his from Sri Lanka and listens to a lot of Sinhala songs on You Tube while working.) I went to a bunch of shoe stores trying to find the quintessential ballet flat that I've been looking for, but found little success. I did end up buying a new pair of concert shoes though. I'll post a picture later. Oh, oh! I had a wall's ice cream! I had a "twister" which was my favorite from when we were on the canal boat when we were nine. It is pineapple ice cream with strawberry and lemon fruit ices. And I still like it, which was a surprise. Most of the things I liked when I was nine are a little too much now. Except not avocado. I will always like avocado. Particularly when drenched in Grammy's dressing. That's the best.