First impressions of a wandering organist.

Our first two days have been packed with activities, with some music-making in between! What a change for me to wake up on a Sunday morning and not tear off to play for a Mass. Breakfast here is an experience. From bok choi to bacon you’ll find what you want. The Taiwanese exude politeness and efficiency at every turn – the entire South African hospitality industry should be forced to work here for a year with no pay, just to learn the basics. Whether you want another fork at table or need assistance in a metro station, it’s provided within seconds. The underground train line is spotless – no eating or drinking allowed whatever. Everyone complies without question. But you never feel as if Big Brother is watching – everyone does it simply because it’s clearly the right thing to do. You have exactly 100 seconds to cross the road; these are counted for you on a digital display on every traffic light. The chaos theory protagonists and anarchists might have a hard time with this, but this society seems one that strives for the perfect balance of personal freedom within clearly defined structure, for the good of all.

While Messrs Oosthuizen and Nyamezele were swept off to a slap-up ten course luncheon given for the conductors of the participating choirs, I marched the column of thirty-six little larks into town to explore. We took a route through the square bordered by the National Theatre, the Performing Arts centre and the imposing Chaing-Kai Chek memorial. What a difference to be in a country where the Arts have pride of place. And speaking of pride, the locals are a proud, yet humble people. You are greeted with smiles wherever you go. And so it was smiles that greeted us when we descended on a tea shop, all the boys tasting and commenting on the diverse range of tea products available. Most bought some merchandise and some even purchased small traditional tea sets. Lunch was spent in their groups. McDonald’s, KFC and similar aberrations were expressly forbidden, the injunction being to try something new and preferably local. Some of us enjoyed the dishes of a local restaurant, sixty years in the business, with delicate dumplings filled with crab soup a particular hit.

With the first performance imminent, it was time for respite, and so the boys spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping. What an experience for them to be on stage in a three thousand sweater hall, before an audience which received them with obvious warmth. The programme was almost exclusively a cappella African music; important for us to make our distinguishing mark at the outset. Tuesday’s appearance was due to showcase the San Gloria with the stunning organ here in the concert hall; the cancellation of this because of the typhoon warning comes as a huge disappointment, not least to me. If I don’t sit in front of keyboards, pedals and pipes soon I’m going to lose the tiny bit of sanity I still possess. We are hoping to change a programme later in the week to include the Gloria, but the ultimate decision is not ours to make. At any rate, our hotel curfew today is for our own protection and is obviously the way the Taiwanese authorities keep their population alive during times of natural weather disturbances. As I write this, the rain and driving wind is intermittent. Some locals have said that it will peak in a few hours’ time and then slowly dissipate. There are worse places than a Sheraton Hotel in which to take refuge from the elements. For now, we are healthy, well-fed and chirpy.