RETURN TO ABU SIMBEL
I can't remember the year I first visited Nubia. It was on my first ever trip to Egypt and like many tourists I joined the convoy from Aswan in the middle of the night, arriving at Abu Simbel to see the sun rise over one of the most impressive sights in the world. But the journey and the crowds made for a disappointing visit, and I vowed that one day I would find a way to return to see the temple with fewer people and in a more relaxing way. I had no idea at the time how Egypt and the dance were going to shape my future. Nor the growing love and fascination I was going to develop for the unique culture of the Nubian people and their beautiful land.
But many years later I did return, again and again. Firstly it was to the Nubian villages close to Aswan which line the banks of the Nile, and maybe where the river is at its most beautiful.
But many years later I did return, again and again. Firstly it was to the Nubian villages close to Aswan which line the banks of the Nile, and maybe where the river is at its most beautiful.
And then to Abu Simbel, where I was greeted by the splash of a crocodile disappearing into the blue waters of Lake Nasser as our group approached the temple which - yes - we had to ourselves. An almost unbelieveable priviledge.
And recent trips, along with dance and music discoveries, have also brought clarity and empathy with the heartbreak in the history of the Nubians, and a growing respect and deep bond with the people of this special place.
Non-Nubians often refer to the Nubians' happiness, their love of dance, their smiling faces. Yes you will find that in Nubia, but it is far from the whole story and an over-simplification which ignores the rich and unique culture of people who have suffered much and are fighting to protect their culture and traditions. Without the knowledge and connection which comes from understanding this, representations of dance of the Nubian people are likely to be empty parodies. One of the most important things I have learnt in my trips here is that the Nubian dance and music is above all else about community and heritage, a precious way to rebuild and strengthen links with families and neighbours who have been separated after the loss of their original land and villages when the Aswan High Dam was constructed.
In this blog I will be bringing you all sorts of stories from Nubia; dance and music, hotel reviews and travel tips, the beauty of the landscape and the stories of the people.
It is a place I have grown to love very much, and I want to bring you closer to it.
Non-Nubians often refer to the Nubians' happiness, their love of dance, their smiling faces. Yes you will find that in Nubia, but it is far from the whole story and an over-simplification which ignores the rich and unique culture of people who have suffered much and are fighting to protect their culture and traditions. Without the knowledge and connection which comes from understanding this, representations of dance of the Nubian people are likely to be empty parodies. One of the most important things I have learnt in my trips here is that the Nubian dance and music is above all else about community and heritage, a precious way to rebuild and strengthen links with families and neighbours who have been separated after the loss of their original land and villages when the Aswan High Dam was constructed.
In this blog I will be bringing you all sorts of stories from Nubia; dance and music, hotel reviews and travel tips, the beauty of the landscape and the stories of the people.
It is a place I have grown to love very much, and I want to bring you closer to it.
THE MUSIC OF COMMUNITY
February 2019 I made my fifth trip to Nubia. And what I think had always been an intuitive reason for my love of Nubian culture, became very clear; that it is primarily one of bringing people together, of creating community. And when it comes to Nubian music yes of course there are musical stars, and groups that have made the big time.
But it is the informal gatherings, where the drums are brought out and played by whoever picks them up, that really are at the heart of the culture.
But it is the informal gatherings, where the drums are brought out and played by whoever picks them up, that really are at the heart of the culture.
The Nubian people were originally farmers, but climate change brought dramatic development to the landscape they inhabited. The desert took over. And in the 1960s following the construction of the Aswan High Dam, a mass exodus dispersed the Nubian people, not just across Egypt, but across the world. For a people who have suffered so much displacement, their music and dance becomes not just an entertainment, but a way of establishing connection and memory.
The principal instruments of their music are the most simple - the hands and drums. Lyres, ouds and brass have been added, but if you travel in this region and something happens spontaneously - it's clapping and rhythm that you'll hear. And the human voice. Song is part of everything.
During my trip in early 2018, I was lucky enough to be invited to male family gathering on the shores of Lake Nasser. We travelled by boat and disembarked at the opposite side of the lake where, after delicious Nubian-spiced coffee, a professional musician from Kom Ombo led his friends and relatives in a music making session. It was a magical moment, as the setting sun turned the waters of Lake Nasser into the colour of burnished amber, to hear the hypnotically gentle rhythms of the frame drums and the call and response of those seated in a circle on the sand. I was told that we were actually sitting in Old Nubia, near the original position of the Temple of Abu Simbel, and that the song being sung was a narrative about the families who had lived in the village. One day I hope to translate that song.
The principal instruments of their music are the most simple - the hands and drums. Lyres, ouds and brass have been added, but if you travel in this region and something happens spontaneously - it's clapping and rhythm that you'll hear. And the human voice. Song is part of everything.
During my trip in early 2018, I was lucky enough to be invited to male family gathering on the shores of Lake Nasser. We travelled by boat and disembarked at the opposite side of the lake where, after delicious Nubian-spiced coffee, a professional musician from Kom Ombo led his friends and relatives in a music making session. It was a magical moment, as the setting sun turned the waters of Lake Nasser into the colour of burnished amber, to hear the hypnotically gentle rhythms of the frame drums and the call and response of those seated in a circle on the sand. I was told that we were actually sitting in Old Nubia, near the original position of the Temple of Abu Simbel, and that the song being sung was a narrative about the families who had lived in the village. One day I hope to translate that song.
The drumming can change from driving and powerful, particularly in the party nights in Gharb Soheil on the west bank of the Nile near Aswan, infused with the energy of the city, to the hynoptic, super-earthy feel of the drumming we saw in Abu Simbel, the energy of both music and movement adapting to the high temperatures and mesmeric landscape surrounding us.
I'll be writing lots more about all aspects of Nubia and it's culture.
But if you'd like to do some exploration, I'd recommend you listen to Hamza El Din, one of the great masters of Nubian music. Turn down the lights, close your eyes, and imagine yourself surrounded by desert and water to feel the space in the music.
I'll be writing lots more about all aspects of Nubia and it's culture.
But if you'd like to do some exploration, I'd recommend you listen to Hamza El Din, one of the great masters of Nubian music. Turn down the lights, close your eyes, and imagine yourself surrounded by desert and water to feel the space in the music.
