ngoma

While I know that the Ex signals the end of Summer, I've never looked upon it with mixed feelings. For me, the summer has always been too long and I liked being headed back to school. In fact, I looked forward to, like dessert after a delicious meal. This year is no exception. In my librarian years, the summer represents a fun, but exhausting, time of year: in July alone, we offered 38 programs with 2,504 kids in attendance.

I've been going to the Ex for fifteen consecutive years and over time, the focus has certainly changed. In my teens, we bought the play-all-day pass and rode the roller coasters until my dad said it was time to go; later, unchaperoned, we stayed as late as Mississauga Transit would allow us. We once rode the Doppel Loopin seven times in a row. Good thing too, as the next year, they had shut it down for safety reasons. There are no more roller coasters at the CNE. As we got a bit older and the exuberance of youth faded, we stated wandering into the buildings. As a kid, I didn't understand why you'd pay to go onto fair grounds and then just shop. As an adult, that's all I do. This year, we only stayed eight hours (as opposed to our usual twelve), but we still hit every outlet in the place. $112 dollars later, I has fifteen new tops, a new skirt, six pairs of earrings and a hair clip. I love this place.

The other thing we discovered upon entering the buildings were the indoor stages. We're no strangers to concerts at the Ex: we had seen I Mother Earth, Econoline Crush, Treble Charger and this wicked Alanis impersonator who made both Nish and I second-guess her identity. In the International Building, they have a small stage as well, where local ethnic groups often perform. one year, we watched our friend's belly-dancing troupe perform.

This year, we watched Ngoma, a dance-and-drum team from the Jane-Finch area. Watching these tiny kids (one couldn't have been a day over six) drum their little hearts out was a little inspirational; I must admit to getting a little verklempt. The "maestro" had some serious patience, often having to give individual direction to the smallest of the bunch. More girls than boys in the group took care of the "girls don’t' drum" mystique too. I kept thinking that this is the sort of activity that our youngest kids need: healthy outlets for creativity and energy. For all the teachers of the world who volunteer their time and talent - thank you.

On a side note: what is it about drums that make my heart beat faster and my breath come a little shorter? I have never been to Africa, and yet I can almost feel the place pulling me there, with wide savannahs providing cool green shade on hot days. The throb of the afternoon sun matching the rhythm of my heart.