Sunday, July 12, 2009

Fete vs Fest

We went to the Fete de Marquette Saturday evening. We arrived in time to hear the last dozen minutes or so of Watcha Clan from Algeria (and Marseilles). We had to stay quite some distance from the bandstand, since they were cranked excessively loudly. The keyboard(s) player was in white robes and jumped and gestured and flailed like a madman. After the band reintroduced themselves and left the stage the MC told the crowd (among a lot of things the amplification obliterated) that he liked to see people dance, and though he wasn’t trying to tell anybody to do anything, it would be good if people would move their chairs out of the dance area. (I didn’t see anybody move.) After about 45 minutes a Malian griot (Balla Tounkara et Group Spirit) and band played. They were still overamped, but I liked the music much better. Have you ever seen a giant calabash-based instrument with a plug-in jack? The drummer was good and versatile too.

There was a huge beer/wine/ATM tent, a furniture sale, WORT booth, tent (where Middle Daughter had taken Youngest Son and reserved some space on the unused stage) which was more for family eating/kids playing, crafts for sale, a booth for solar panels, and lots of food booths. Some of them were the usual food cart denizens of library mall and the capitol square (with standard prices, not jacked up for the fair). Lots of people were ordering a tomato/potato/pickled lentil and sourdough flatbread dish from Baraka, others slurping down ice cream, or doughnuts fried while you wait, or kebab wraps.

The tent we sat under was anchored to large concrete blocks topped with coffee cans pleading: “cigarette butts only.” These were of course set aside to let people plant their seats.

We’d been to the Stoughton fair earlier that week—which was very like the Sun Prairie Corn Fests which are like smaller versions of the Dane County fair which… You get the picture.

What was different? Aside from there not being a midway, that is. And the bands being all Francophone/New Orleans-based. Or a petting zoo for the kids.

The food, for one thing. The vendors at the Fete were often restaurant-based and often provided rather different fare from the usual corn dogs and cotton candy and pizza (though you could get Glass Nickel pizza at the Fete—good but not cheap).

The physiques and outfits for another. I see the oddest outfits at fairs, but somehow the Fete attracted even odder ones. There were plenty of Hefty-Americans at both, but a larger fraction of the 50-plus set are slim at the Fete.

The tone was different too. I got the sense of high levels of education, but also of alien attitudes. While standing in line for doughnuts several of us saw a large kite, with what must have been a camera motoring up the line. The two gentlemen behind me speculated on its nature in terms of malevolent surveillance. It simply didn’t occur to them that the fair organizers might want some publicity photos of the grounds from above. One seemed almost relieved when I suggested it.

Unfortunately we couldn’t stay to hear Lura. Although that might not have worked so well anyhow—it was very noisy.

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