Page 47 - DIVA_7_2004_No.16

audience gazed in high expec- only hummed along. The song
tation; a spectacular perfor- went on for many verses and
mance must have been promi- when it finally came to an end
sed. Meanwhile, I was per- the old man, with pride in his
plexed. My subconscious was shining eyes, looked around the
working at top-speed. Scary room. His performance was
images from my childhood rewarded with appreciative
came to mind -singing lessons murmur and even a single,
in elementary school! Still, this although very modest, clap.
song was lurking somewhere in
the dark oblivion of a gladly for- Again the old man turned to me
gotten youth. 'Of course you and asked, as if it were the last
know Op de blanke top der dui- desire in his life: "Do we now
nen, said the old man. "Every sing the Wilhelmus together?"
good Dutch boy knows that (The Dutch national anthem.) I
song', he pressed. The adjecti- looked for a deep hole in the
ve 'good" probably explained floor to sink into, but there was
why I didn't remember the no escape. It had to be. There,
lyrics, I thought. Anyway, it was in a steaming hot dilapidated
obvious that the mans notion hotel in an insignificant town on
of time had not kept pace with an island far from the beaten
the worlds development over track in Indonesia, I was singing
the last fifty years. To confess the Dutch national anthem. I
that I did not know more than felt rather uneasy and glad that
the first strophe of the song none of my friends and relati-
would be sort of embarrassing ves could see me in this ridicu-
and certainly disappointing to lous, if not slightly compromi-
the old man and his friends. sing, situation.
In a feeble voice and with a Fortunately the man only knew
greasy accent the nostalgic old the first four of all seventeen
man commenced to sing. I was verses. Which, as a matter of
praying for just a spark of fact, beat me by three! After the
remembrance, but it did not last note he thanked me with
come. The audience smiled tears of joy in his eyes.
benevolently and was appa-
rently sincerely interested. The The show was over, the audien-
television seemed to be forgot- ce went home quietly. I went
ten; this was real entertain- back to my room and it wasn't
ment! The old man now sang at long before the noise of my sno-
the top of his voice, he straigh- ring blended harmoniously with
tened his back and seemed for the sound of the slowly revol-
the moment to be catapulted ving fans and the mosquitoes
back into a happy childhood. feasting on my blood.
He didn't even notice that I
hardly joined in, that in fact I © Marcel Malherbe 2004
7.2004 Diva 45