The Bishop asked me to play for a bunch of bankers at noon on Friday, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to make it in time. I was going to be coming from Nairobi, and I would be arriving no earlier than 2pm. So I took my time coming back from Nairobi, only to get a phone call at 4pm while I was wandering around downtown Meru. The Bishop wanted to know when I was coming, because the bankers were leaving soon. Woah!
I got in a taxi, the one that tried to overcharge me by 100x), and then walked into the Thiiri Centre. I was unshowered for two days, and I had Nairobi grunge all over me. I felt disgusting. I was hoping to shower before playing, but there was no time.
Little did I know there would also be cameras and videocameras documenting my performance. My hair was sticking up, and I am sure that I didn’t look very clean. But no one seemed to notice or care. So I might end up being on TV or a docu-special about these bankers, with my grubbiness also documented.
The bummer was that the African dancers and singers that were about to perform were outside of the room, banging on their drums and singing and hooting and hollering while I was playing. And then the Bishop cut me off about 10 bars from the end of my piece. He just started clapping, and it was obvious he wanted me to finish. It was distracting, and I felt under-appreciated. But I know it was only because he was trying to negotiate all the different people in the room. But still. (He made up for it today when he asked me to play in church, and didn’t cut me off early.)