The Dún Laoghaire Festival of World Cultures doesn’t have to look far for its foreign flavour
‘THIS DOESN’T feel like Ireland at all,” my friend said, as we stood on the terrace of the Pavilion in Dún Laoghaire, Co Dublin.
The wind had swung around to bring with it an autumnal nip, but the streets were thronged with people in summer clothes, strolling around as the sounds of drums collided from different sites around town, and a carefree atmosphere filled the air.
What seemed most “un-Irish” was the mix of cultures and clothes: saris, turbans, amazing headdresses, ceremonial costumes, tribal regalia; together with the tie-dye, dreadlocks and dogs on strings that seem to emerge at every festival, only to be subsumed again by a working wardrobe when Monday comes.
The other un-Irish thing was the low level of excessive alcohol consumption, as young and old (very young in fact; there seemed to be hordes of babies about) wandered from venue to venue, skipping the occasional rain showers, and having a lovely time.
This was the ninth annual Festival of World Cultures, an extravaganza of music, food, culture and cheerful chaos that takes place every year as summer draws to a close. In the near-decade since it began, things have changed: more of the groups playing music or demonstrating aspects of their cultures live here permanently, and in many cases, groups and troupes have been formed through social networking and cultural clubs. The Burundi Drummers, leaping in the air as they thump their drums in powerful unison, come together from Galway, Meath and Dublin, travelling every week or so to meet and rehearse.
Jody Ackland, the festival director, confirmed that this year they’re bringing in fewer international acts. Part of this is economic necessity – but it’s also because so many groups now exist in this country.
In the People’s Park, where the Mela (a celebration of South Asian arts) was taking place, I chatted to Amanda Kavanagh while I waited to see the Dhoad Gypsies of Rajasthan perform. Kavanagh was here to give free Indian head massages, and had just finished working her magic on two Filipino girls, who have been living in Kinsealy, Co Dublin for the past couple of years.
“Dún Laoghaire is very multicultural anyway,” she said, although we agreed that an event like this lets people revel in their traditional cultures in a joyful way, rather than trying to mute them in order to get by.
The Dhoad Gypsies were a little late on stage, so I went up to what looked like the most magnificent and exciting group at the Mela, thinking that must be them, only to discover how ignorant I am about many aspects of world culture, as it was the Sikh Gatka group who had just arrived from demonstrating their special form of martial arts to the crowds in the Marine Gardens. Their day jobs range from Supervalu to security guarding to IT, and they met through the Irish Sikh Council, based in Ballsbridge.
I said goodbye as the Dhoad Gypsies took to the stage, and one of the gypsies explained to the audience that the “clickers” they held were the precursor of castanets. You could hear echoes of flamenco in their music, which they would have brought to Spain as they spread across Europe, centuries ago.
Alongside the glories of different cultures on stage, snippets like these were the most fascinating part of the festival, and I wished there were more of them in the printed programme, which left me hungry to know more about what I was seeing.
As darkness fell, inevitably more alcohol emerged, and the cheerful, respectful atmosphere became tinged with that reeling excess for which this country is unfortunately famed. But as we wandered down towards Sandycove, thinking how attractive Dún Laoghaire is, with its harbour, parks and coastline, we passed two Indian women in saris, chatting together in very obvious Irish accents. It mightn’t have felt like Ireland, but nonetheless, it was.
