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The road
Imagine being 10 and not allowed to be who you are.
For Frida Marida that was Lebanon. She was a boy who wanted to sing and wear dresses, and nobody around her had a word for it. The answer was no. In a hundred small ways, for a very long time.
And then there was no time to be a kid. The boy had to become a man, fast. Study, work, drive. Hours alone in the car, and that is where the dreams lived: singing behind the wheel in every language she knew, drumming the rhythm on the wheel with her hands. That steering wheel was her drum kit, the one she practised on more than any other.
Today she lives in Oslo, as a woman and an artist, and she wears her dresses without fear. The wheel came with her. She took a real steering wheel apart and turned it into a musical instrument, and now her oldest drum is on stage with her, where the dreams came true.
She is not alone on stage. Next to her sits her friend Ahmad Alak, oud player from Syria, the one who says: be yourself. 2 people, 1 steering wheel, 1 oud, no playback.
