Sunday, April 17, 2011

The "Other" Desert Festival (Who needs Coachella?)

I had a chance to drive up to Lancaster in northern Los Angeles county to attend the Poppy Festival. It was an uneventful drive, with wide scenic vistas of the San Gabriel mountains as well as of the scrub that surrounds that area. This was a lonely landscape, and much of the road consisted of a two-lane highway where signs admonished us not to pass and to turn our headlights on. It reminded me of many of the long and open landscapes of the Midwest, except that this was the desert, bounded by mountains to one side.

This was perhaps the second time I had ever driven up to this area. It must have been in the early 90s when I first made the trip to Palmdale, to attend a Christmas event. Back then, in early December, I remembered bracingly cold temperatures and a forlorn look. Now, the temperatures were very mild, despite the recent heatwave, and the forlorn look actually looks accomodating to me.

The fair offered a chance to experience what we could best describe as a small-town atmosphere. I was perhaps hoping to encounter nearby poppy fields (after the eponymous title of the fair), but only saw a few flowers on the fairgrounds. It offered no substitute for the wide carpet of color I was hoping to encounter, but I did enjoy the entertainment. Where else could I see a singer offering a Selena tribute, a folklorico, a dance fitness group that gave us salsa as well as bellydancing, a Japanese duo formed of two elderly ladies who performed slow ceremonial dances and two energetic belly-dancing groups? As I remarked to a colleague at work, I was particularly taken by the latter, and felt myself energized at the dancers who didn't fear to bear their midriffs. (I am speaking completely in earnest; our culture, lamentally, tends to assume irony even when it is not meant.)

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1. A blurry photo of sculptures in the shape of turtles and alligators, on display at the fair. They were too expensive for me, and thus, I limited myself to appreciating their artistry. Yes, they may be kitschy, reminding me of the scorpion ashtrays available throughout northern Mexico, but in this case, no real animals or insects were used, and I can easily imagine these items suitably placed in a lanscape garden.

2. There was a small car show on the field. I know next to nothing about cars, but I can appreciate the care and skill that is necessary for restoring and maintaining these classic cars.


 3.  Folklorico Divas del Desierto dancing to music from Veracruz.


4.  The "Friends of Faizeh" dance troup, gyrating on stage. I have to admire the exhibitionism of these dances. A woman in a light-blue hijab was sitting in front throughout the entire day. Well, perhaps it wasn't a complete hijab, because her face was visible.

5. A trio called "Firefly". They sang some wonderful melodies, most of them original songs. I found myself listening and thinking about yearning. It reminds me of the heartfelt quality of Suzanne Vega, a singer who had a brief burst of fame back in the 80s.
6.  A series of photos of the Lotus Tribal Dance group. They gave an energetic, sustained performance, and they were one of the larger groups. They were billed as the foremost "belly-dancing" group in Lancaster.








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The crowds arrived en masse to witness the bellydancing groups, and to express their appreciation. Somehow this seems like an uninhibited form of dance, at once chaste as well as libidinous, and I appreciate these contradictions. I could leave the cynicism and the purblind denunciation of the lack of consistency to the jaded inhabitants of the cities, at least for this day. Part of being human is learning to live with contradictions.

Attending this event helped to occupy my mind. In particular, I'm depressed about the death this past Thursday of a family cat, one that had been taken to be spayed by the veteranarian. The pet never woke up from anesthesia and had to be "terminated" or "let go", in the callous terminology that is far from euphemistic when it comes to animals. I do feel a sense of guilt, even though I did not perform the operation nor did I take the animal to the vet.

It was windy by the time I left Lancaster. However, there were no problems on the drive back. In the future, I will have to return to visit some of the mountain resorts, especially during the hot summer months when I am looking for any relief possible.

Lundi, lunes, Montag, any way you say it, it doesn't sound pleasant.

Eternal Observer -- ORomero (c) 2011
Copyrights ORomero 2011

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