David Bowie, RIP

I know I am late with this but in a way I’m glad.  There were so many others blogging and tweeting and what not when David Bowie passed away.  Here’s what I wrote a day or two later:

I cannot call myself a fan but there are many, many songs that I like and he was a prominent, colourful feature of my 70’s and 80’s childhood. I didn’t like everything he did but what I really admired was his unflinching approach to his artistry. Bowie very much did what he pleased.

Now that is what you call an icon. Go be like that if you have the courage to do so.

As a South Londoner I was proud of the fact that he was one too, a local boy made good and never starry in the least.

He is not a bad person to seek to emulate in terms of quite fearlessly being yourself – the young can (and often) do a lot worse these days, following the antics of “stars” like Justin Bieber, Arianna Grande, Rihanna, Jessie J. Sadly the list is endless… It is so much so that I struggled when talking to my son, to come up with an equivalent artist of these times for whom a palpable feeling of loss would be generated when he reaches my age. Lady Gaga, Lana Del Rey – yes they are outside the box but they have not set the world alight in the way Bowie did. And they are outside the box in a wholly marketed way – something their fans cannot see. Everybody has a feeling about Bowie, good or bad. Too many artists these days generate no strong feelings either way and to a certain extent, modern music lost its’ way some time ago and we have lived these past 30 years or so with mimics and wannabes.

True originals are hard to come by. That’s my feeling anyway. It’s probably why the majority of the music I listen to is a throwback to my youth. Metal keeps evolving and I still get a thrill from it. I listen to modern RnB sometimes but it is all very “samey samey”, increasingly misogynistic – and Chris Brown seems to be all over every track! My taste is eclectic to say the least. I like Michael Buble for example, but he’s a repackaged Frank Sinatra/Harry Connick Jnr both of whom I love and both of whom, I think, are better.

So, David Bowie, I salute you, your originality, your creativity and your fearlessness.

Rest in Peace.

La Mauricienne!

 

• Your parents secretly know how to dance sega – and so do you…. “Alalilaaaaa!!”  Mauritians always get you to do it after a rum filled evening – but you don’t have a hangover the next day…
• Tea in Mauritius always tastes better.
• The whole of Mauritius comes to pick you up from Mahebourg airport upon arrival and/or to see you off.
• The first things Uncles and Aunties in Mauritius always say when they see you is “Gette coumant lin vin graaand” and “Qui class to pe faire?”
• Mauritian family think you are richer than the Queen just because ‘to Anglais’!  You get asked by a non-relation to buy them the latest mobile phone or their ticket to England because you must be loaded living “en Londres”.  Well, you flew to “Maurice” didn’t you?  (whether you’re renting a clapped out villa or not…..).
• You just can’t get enough of good old Mauritian Dhal Pourri or Aloouda.
• Your grandparents think vapour rub is the cure for everything.
• “Arr-Arr!!”, “Aahhbeh…” and “Aiiii-yoh!” are standard vocab and roughly translate as: 1.”As if!”,  “Bite me!” or “Get stuffed!!”, 2. “Ohhh right, I see…” and 3. “Ouch!!!” or “Dammit!!”  That and “Assez amerde mo derriere, don!” – literally “Stop annoying my backside, you!”.  All were learnt at the feet of my late grandmother!  I can hear her now….
• Your parents start buying stuff to bring for family in Mauritius a year before they actually go.
• Kraft cheddar is the only cheese you eat when you’re out there….
• Mauritian family never bring anything truly decent when they come to England.
• Mauritians come up with random remedies like blowing on your eyelashes to cure hiccups…..(I kid you not).
• Creoles believe in the power of God and the power of Voodoo.  Don’t ever attempt to touch a painted coconut with strings attached, situated above or near a doorway or your Mum will hiss at you like a demented cat as she yanks your hand out of harms way, saying:  “Don’t touch it!!! It’s black magic!!!” and failing to explain (to this day) exactly what about it makes it so….?  It’s a bloody coconut with a weird face painted onto it.
• You love to eavesdrop if you can hear people speaking Creole in a public place…and you feel like you’re part of some secret society because you can understand what they’re saying.
• At the same time, you try to steer clear of Mauritians in London because they suddenly lose their command of English and want to talk to you “en creole”, mostly about your families and how you might be connected.  And the loosest thing can be used by a Mauritian to make a connection….

I found some of these at http://nav007.blogspot.co.uk/2006/08/how-you-know-youre-mauritian.html and edited/added some of my own observations.  The list there is damn near spot-on and laugh out loud funny in places.

Island people – you can’t beat ’em, mai zotte kapav bat twa!