AND NOW, ALL THE WAY FROM SCOTLAND...

The other week, I performed at an Open Mic night that Project Hope had organised. It was held at a local hamam (Turkish Bath). It was an unusual setting, but then anything not involving a bar and lots of drunk people would seem an unusual venue for an Open Mic night to me, and that’s not exactly an option in Nablus.

I performed a couple of tunes, one accompanying someone else on guitar and another one singing myself. The song I sang was one of Leonard Cohen’s more upbeat numbers. All in all I was happy with how it went. I got good feedback and was also a lot less nervous than I thought I would be.

CRAP PHOTO OF OPEN MIC NIGHT AT AL-CHIFA HAMAM

Then, on Wednesday, I performed at another Open Mic night, this time at a Dar Al-Fanoon, a music centre in Old Askar camp. This time I opted for a Paul Brady song. It was a lot scarier an experience, as it was in a proper auditorium, it was the first time I had performed with an actual mic and I was following on from an incredibly proficient string ensemble from Lille. However, despite some technical problems that were outwith my control, I was again happy with how it went and got some good feedback.

A few weeks ago, I sang a couple of songs in front of maybe five or six of the international volunteers. This was easily the highest number of people I’d performed in front of up until that point but, from there, I have now performed at two Open Mic nights, would happily sign up for another and have generally taken it all in my stride.

Now, I don’t mention the above in order to boast that my musical talent in finally being recognised (I consider myself a reasonable singer and poor guitarist) but rather to illustrate the point that when you’ve pushed yourself far outside your comfort zone – such as by coming to Palestine, teaching English, going without bevvy, etc, etc – it all of a sudden becomes easy enough to push yourself that little bit further.

If my intention had been to boast, I would have instead mentioned that I discovered last week that Stuart, the guy I had performed with at the first Open Mic, had been asked if he and I would perform at a “mass wedding” held last weekend. Now, I went along to this wedding and it would have involved performing on a massive stage at a local park with 50 or so brides and grooms sitting behind me and a crowd of maybe a couple of thousand people. Thankfully, Stuart declined the invite. (There's pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and then there's just plain silly.)

CRAP PHOTO OF MASS WEDDING (THE BRIDES ARE THE WHITE BLURS)

I can only conclude that, given Palestinians' limited exposure to Western music, they think that someone singing vaguely in tune and strumming a few chords on a guitar is as good as it gets.