TELL ME MORE

This week I have re-discovered a magical world whose existence I had forgotten long ago - as most of us do when we become adults. A world where anything can happen, which allows you to travel as far as you wish, where the impossible becomes possible, and where you can be whoever you want. A world where imagination and words are all you really need: the ancient world of story-telling, equally entertaining as most of its modern substitutes, such as the cinema and TV, and yet so much simpler, so much more charming.

On Thursdays I have a morning off, which I dedicate to my French class. This week, however, a fellow teacher invited me to come to school and take part in a storytelling event for kids that she'd arranged. I was curious to see how the I-want-another-laptop generation would react when confronted with a Gabonese tale, so I decided that, within the framework of practicing my French, I would come and see what one Chyc Polhit Mamfoumbi had prepared for the students.

A barefoot man, tall and hairy, walks into the room. He is wearing shorts and an African rattle-bracelet on his ankle. He speaks loudly, clearly, shouts, whispers, dances... He's an African woman, an ugly child, a Michael Jackson wannabe, a greedy king, a malicious doctor, a man who ends up swallowing himself. The (usually exteremely chatty) children look up at him hypnotised, they participate in the story, they are hungry for more. The first question at the final Q&A session is: Can you come back tomorrow, Mister?, followed closely by: Another story, please! Well, to be honest, I was thinking the exact same thing.

Luckily, it turned out that Mr Mamfoumbi, along with two other professional storytellers, Toumani Kouyaté (from Burkina Faso/France) and Mathias Ndembet (from Gabon), were performing at CCF (Centre Culturel Français) the following night (last night, as it happens). This show was directed at adult audience and I was even more curious to see how you tell stories to adults in the XXI century. And in spite of the modern surroundings, I had the impression that the effect was pretty much the same as in the old days, when people would gather around the fireplace to listen to a wise person tell a story. We were all dragged into the imaginative worlds, we participated and laughed, and it was fun, a relaxing pastime, a long-forgotten pleasure. How long has it been since someone told you a story of a young man marrying a princess? Yesterday I realised that the answer to this question was simple: way too long!

Both Mr Mamfoumbi and Mr Kouyaté live and perform in France. If you have a chance to see them, do not hesitate. In the end, it's not that common to see such natural talents, and in their case storytelling is in their blood: In my country, Gabon, the profession of storyteller does not exist, says Mr Mamfoumbi on his website. And this is because EVERYBODY tells stories. Luckily, some of them decided to show the world how it's done.

The picture comes from here.