Gaye's Mela Diary

12th Annual Edinburgh Mela 1st-3rd September 2006

Well, another Mela, another fabulous weekend! Although primarily an Asian/Scottish festival, as usual it featured music and dance from all over the world: Latin America, China, Iraq, Iran, Zimbabwe, Uganda, the Balkans, Spain, Brazil and of course India and Pakistan. There was music to suit every taste, from Rap to Indian Classical, from Gypsy music to Yorkshire/ Asian Ska /Punk. And this is all before you get to the gorgeous array of clothing and jewellery stalls, and the tantalising row of hot food stalls which stretches from one end of the park to the other. (Good news! After the fire which destroyed her factory a year ago, the much loved Mrs Unis is back!)

It would take a lot more than an hour or two of rain to dampen the fire that is Mela, and eight-year-olds and eighty-year-olds alike came decked out in their finest, to see and be seen. My gruelling Mela itinerary went something like this…

Sat. 2nd Sept.:

Fortified with an onion baji the size of a dinner plate, freshly made potato pakora and a good skelp of chilli sauce so hot it gave me hiccups, I drifted to the open stage to dance to what for me was the musical highlight of the weekend, the Babylon Arabic Band, who delighted the crowd with sensuous and haunting Iraqi dance music. With a simple line-up of keyboards, an eastern instrument which to my untrained eye vaguely resembled a large mandolin, a drum which resembled a tabla and, unexpectedly, a cello, they got most hips in the crowd swaying.

Next, a look into the Chai Serrai, a large perfumed dome tent where people relaxed to music, and children enjoyed their first experience of Henna art or had a go on some of the percussion instruments available to try.

Back to the main Marquee, and by this time Bohemia, "the world's only Punjabi rapper", had the place jumping.

Time now to check out the Bazaar, and have a rummage in the many tempting clothing stalls. Jo-Jo and I end up very happy, she with a slinky lacy black top for the princessly sum of £4, I with a beautiful kaftan for the same amount, and an extraordinary top that looked as though it was made of chain-mail (£6).

Worn out from all the excitement, it was back to the food stalls for chickpea curry and more pakora, followed by the old Mela game 'How many mates can I bump into in the space of twenty minutes?' (Answer: quite a few, including TWO people I'd studied with 10 years ago and hadn't seen since, and another old mate whom I hadn't seen since he moved to Amsterdam in, er, 1923. Those of you who used to be punks will remember Big John of the Exploited...)

Day 2: Sunday 3rd Sept.

Drawn straight to the centre of the park by lovely trancey Indian dance beats, what should I find but striking street theatre and sinuous dancing from Delhi's Ishara Puppet Foundation. This was really enjoyable.

By now Malkit Singh, "bhangra's Saviour", was drawing me towards the main Marquee: he was loud enough (I'm happy to say) to fill half the park with bangin’ bhangra beats. You may remember his music in Bend it Like Beckam or in Monsoon. If you can't dance to Malkit Singh then you probably enjoy the Eurovision Song Contest for its 'music'.

A few pakora later, time to explore the shoe tent. My dears, if you like shoes and enjoy a flamboyant look every now and then, these boys from Bradford would have had something for you! I was in heaven, after finding a chic pair of pointy black numbers, and a pair of dazzling jewelled red leather backless shoes that looked like something straight out of Aladdin, for a fiver each!

Some ladies in the Bazaar attempted to sell me a diaphanous garment which they assured me would make me look "very sexy in the bedroom, very sexy anywhere!", a tempting thought, but the serious matter of keeping enough money for a curry restrained me. In fact, I could have had the sexy dress after all, since for the last half hour the already cheap curries were half price, meaning that three of us dined heartily for just over £2 each.

The final uplifting music on the central open stage was Champion Doug Veitch with the Bhundu Boys Rise Kagona: joyous smiley African stuff that had everybody dancing. As usual, the Mela went far too fast for my liking. Roll on next year!