Post by roofgardener on Dec 27, 2014 9:17:31 GMT
A businessman is flying into a small African country to finalise a deal. (exporing African Dahlias to his shop in Chelsea)
The "international airport" is a very modest affair. The jungle comes up to the sides of the runway. As the passengers disembark down the stairs onto the ground, he hears drums throbbing away somewhere in the dense foliage.
The passengers get aboard the courtesy bus, and the busnessman happens to be sitting near to the driver. He leans over and asks..
"I can hear the drums. I know they are a sophisticated messaging system. What are they currently saying ? "
WELL... chaos ensues. The driver slams on the brakes. The bus fishtails. Suitcases fly everwhere. Several chickens escape and flap around in panic. (this always happens on African buses, even if they are not actually CARRYING any chickens). The bus finally comes to a halt, and silence falls. The driver turns around to the man and - with an expression of dread - hoarsly whispers...
"Drums stop... BAD news..."
Then he restarts the bus, and drives on to the airport building.
Somewhat shaken, our hero decides that this is some sort of superstition. But - he reasons - the airport officials will be more cosmopolitain, so perhaps THEY can advise him ? So he asks the same question to the Passport Official.
The entire airport concourse falls silent. (broken only by the sound of a basket of chickens being dropped, and the chickens noisily escaping). The official looks at the man, and says....
"Drums stop ? BAD news !"
He then stamps the passport and flings it back at the man, indicating that further conversation is NOT an option.
Our intrepid traveller decides that this is obviously a MAJOR cultural faux pas, and vows not to bring the topic up again.
On the taxi journey to the hotel, he can STILL hear the drums throbbing away in the distance. Surely the hotel staff would be accustomed to the ignorance of foreign travellers, and be able to answer his question ? So, as he books in, he asks the desk clark the same question. What are the drums saying ?
There is a collective gasp from all in the lobby. One of the Maids faints, and the bell-hop bursts into tears. A sound of clucking and flapping can be heard from one of the elevator shafts. The desk clark pales and - through gritted teeth - says...
"Drums stop ? BAD news !! "
Well, this is the last straw. The man decides that if even the HOTEL staff - accustomed as they are to european and American visitors - are under this influence of this local superstition, then it would be simply for the better to keep quiet, and not ask about the drums again.
So... our eager entrepreneur attends his meetings, and the Dahlia Deal is completed to the satisfaction of both sides, to the accompaniement of the background drumming.
He is in the taxi on the way back to the airport, and his curiosity overcomes him. Once the taxi has pulled up at the departures lounge, with the handbrake safely on, and the engine turned off, he asks the driver...
"Look, I know it is bad to ask about these drums. Forgive me if I am transgressing a local custom, but I MUST know... what are the drums saying, and WHY is it bad news if they stop ? "
The taxi driver smiles at him sympathetically, and pats him on the shoulder..
"You where not to know, my friend.... but the drums have been playing now for a thousand years. The drumming is the first thing we hear in the morning, and the last at night. The drumming surrounds and supports us. It is part of the air that we breath"
"Yes ? But why is it bad news ? "
"If drums stop...."
"Yes ? "
"If drums ever stop...."
"YES
??"
"If drums stop, then thousand-year bass guitar solo commences"
The "international airport" is a very modest affair. The jungle comes up to the sides of the runway. As the passengers disembark down the stairs onto the ground, he hears drums throbbing away somewhere in the dense foliage.
The passengers get aboard the courtesy bus, and the busnessman happens to be sitting near to the driver. He leans over and asks..
"I can hear the drums. I know they are a sophisticated messaging system. What are they currently saying ? "
WELL... chaos ensues. The driver slams on the brakes. The bus fishtails. Suitcases fly everwhere. Several chickens escape and flap around in panic. (this always happens on African buses, even if they are not actually CARRYING any chickens). The bus finally comes to a halt, and silence falls. The driver turns around to the man and - with an expression of dread - hoarsly whispers...
"Drums stop... BAD news..."
Then he restarts the bus, and drives on to the airport building.
Somewhat shaken, our hero decides that this is some sort of superstition. But - he reasons - the airport officials will be more cosmopolitain, so perhaps THEY can advise him ? So he asks the same question to the Passport Official.
The entire airport concourse falls silent. (broken only by the sound of a basket of chickens being dropped, and the chickens noisily escaping). The official looks at the man, and says....
"Drums stop ? BAD news !"
He then stamps the passport and flings it back at the man, indicating that further conversation is NOT an option.
Our intrepid traveller decides that this is obviously a MAJOR cultural faux pas, and vows not to bring the topic up again.
On the taxi journey to the hotel, he can STILL hear the drums throbbing away in the distance. Surely the hotel staff would be accustomed to the ignorance of foreign travellers, and be able to answer his question ? So, as he books in, he asks the desk clark the same question. What are the drums saying ?
There is a collective gasp from all in the lobby. One of the Maids faints, and the bell-hop bursts into tears. A sound of clucking and flapping can be heard from one of the elevator shafts. The desk clark pales and - through gritted teeth - says...
"Drums stop ? BAD news !! "
Well, this is the last straw. The man decides that if even the HOTEL staff - accustomed as they are to european and American visitors - are under this influence of this local superstition, then it would be simply for the better to keep quiet, and not ask about the drums again.
So... our eager entrepreneur attends his meetings, and the Dahlia Deal is completed to the satisfaction of both sides, to the accompaniement of the background drumming.
He is in the taxi on the way back to the airport, and his curiosity overcomes him. Once the taxi has pulled up at the departures lounge, with the handbrake safely on, and the engine turned off, he asks the driver...
"Look, I know it is bad to ask about these drums. Forgive me if I am transgressing a local custom, but I MUST know... what are the drums saying, and WHY is it bad news if they stop ? "
The taxi driver smiles at him sympathetically, and pats him on the shoulder..
"You where not to know, my friend.... but the drums have been playing now for a thousand years. The drumming is the first thing we hear in the morning, and the last at night. The drumming surrounds and supports us. It is part of the air that we breath"
"Yes ? But why is it bad news ? "
"If drums stop...."
"Yes ? "
"If drums ever stop...."
"YES
??""If drums stop, then thousand-year bass guitar solo commences"
