Destiny and New Moon | 2

One day I met Hamid, recently arrived from Morocco, and introduced him to the bar L'Amour Fou. Talented musicians often came to sing and play guitar there, and the manager was very nice. He let Hamid sing while I went round at the end of the concert with a tray, which permits an artist to keep a bit of distance from his audience. Unfortunately, the performance wasn't very good.

When, several days later, I decided to go there on my own behalf, the manager only gave me a chance after I had made reference to Kateb Yacine (author of Cadavre Encerlé). I took my mandole, placed myself in the middle of the room and started with a song, then another... a fifth - without raising my eyes, deep in my dreams, putting my troubles aside by thinking of my family, of the people of my hometown Dellys, and concealing my fear, the fear of coming across someone in the room who might know me and tell all back home. When I stopped playing, the whole cafe was clapping. It was a defining moment in my life - the first exam I had passed.
After this, I would return to L'Amour Fou whenever I felt like doing another impromptu concert.

The day Kateb Yacine (a highly educated man who fought for the recognition Berber culture) died, the manager of L'Amour Fou would be the first to convey his condolences.

My other experiences didn't always go so well - an artist is often thought of as a lout or a beggar; as on that day in front of a bar/restaurant in St Gilles (serving North African fare), when I told myself right there and then that I was going to feel a little more at home. I went in without knocking but with a big smile, took out my mandole, and looked the barman straight in the eye to indicate that he should stop the tape and let me me play quietly... which I did until the manager arrived, turned the taped music back up and thrust a 200BF note into my hand.

« Lah Inoub» (God will help you), he said to me. I then took out a 500BF note, placed it on the bar and replied «Sir, you are a long way from understanding certain things about life», leaving him standing there motionless, like a nail in a piece of wood!

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