At 7:30 a.m., we drove out to Innes Free Park in Sandton for an early morning sound check. George, our technical director, was all smiles -- making us feel extremely welcome. I was starting to realize that this is part of the South African hospitality. George turned out to be a musician in his own right. I walked away with his African a cappella music CD and a new Facebook friend for future collaborations.
The sound check actually never happened but it was still worth it because the car permits we collected gave us close access to the venue for our 6 p.m. show. Still, I was wondering how we’d even get close to the parking area since we’d have to drive through the masses.
Next, we headed to Mary Fitzgerald Square in Newtown. We were scheduled to perform there at 3 p.m., although I was told that the schedule might run on “African time.”
Newtown is the heart of an inner city cultural renewal project, driven by the city of Johannesburg for many years. The area includes Museum Africa (one of the major cultural museums in the country), artists and dance studios, and a museum owned by South African Breweries. It also encompasses the market theatre known in the apartheid era for staging political plays and performing to a multi-racial audience.
Vuvuzelas were blaring everywhere, a piercing sound that would normally drive me crazy (okay, maybe it did, a little) but today it added to the ambience. People were lining the streets in droves wearing yellow Bafana Bafana shirts and waving South African flags. There were even a few scattered green Mexican shirts, including my dad’s. It appeared to be a country united. The energy on the streets was escalating -- and so was my blood pressure. We were constantly stuck in gridlock with no one offering the right of way.
After two hours, we finally arrived at the Square. We met “The Showstoppers,” a group of dancers who were excited to take their photo with us. And we enjoyed a sneak preview of their amazing dance. It was now 2 p.m., and the loudspeakers were pumping out hip hop and rap tunes. I was starting to get nervous. Would the crowd even listen to our more mellow Latin rhythms?
My assistant Jaclyn helped me with my dress and make up. I relaxed as soon as I got backstage. It was quite cold in my sleeveless dress but one of the hosts lent me his jacket and everyone was sharing lots of hugs. I looked out beyond the stage into a sea of people and the colours of South African flags everywhere. Cameras from TV stations were at the stage’s sides. Performers were flashed on the huge screen in between shots of the soccer players dismounting from their team buses. The crowd was going wild. I had tears in my eyes. I was afraid I’d be overcome by emotion on the stage, which I hadn’t considered in my rehearsals!
After a fairly lengthy sound check, it was my turn. But where was the microphone? My heart dropped. Jaclyn ran out to inform the technical director. He apparently thought we were an instrumental band and quickly found me a microphone. All I remember saying to the crowd was “Sun Bon Nani” and everyone going up in cheer. I told them that we travelled 26 hours from Canada to share our music. And that it was my first time in my mother’s homeland. They seemed just as excited for me as I was. Everyone was dancing.
Then, after a few songs from our usual repertoire, it was finally time to sing Suenos Posibles. I explained how my South African mother had married a Mexican and to honour them I had written a song for the opening match. The crowd sang along to the chorus “South Africa my soul…Mexico lindo amor.” I couldn’t have been happier. What a dream.
