On Music

One of the chief reasons I came to Africa is probably the music. Since the beginning of high school I have collected so much African music, mostly traditional and reggae, gospel inspired in some ways... but just remarkable songs. I love that music -- the feeling involved, the rhythm, the narratives, but warned myself about thinking about Africa in unreal terms. Romantic terms, maybe?

Who are the people that make this music? How do you really picture, or even relate to, or place yourself within a culture you don't know? That's what I was having a hard time with. I love this music, but I need to know the people.

And ironically, I find myself turning to it to feel connected to home. In the middle of the night, when the nostalgic heartstrings of familiarity are pulling, I can turn to music that feels like home. It is familiar, but feels here, too. It's neat.

And occasionally over the last week I've found myself thinking "I can't believe this is happening, that I'm here." I went to an Asian restaurant for dinner two nights ago, and since it was Sunday, not many people were there. There was a live band playing though, essentially just for us and another table. I closed my eyes and heard this beautiful song, in French, from the Congo. It sounded like one I have, Notre Devoir, an Africa reggae song. Just this incredible accent, voice, and music behind it. And I opened my eyes and there they were, singing for us.

Is this happening?

On Saturday night, I went to a music bar on Long Street. They had a Brazilian drumming band, two djembes and a singer, complete with psychedelic lights and a screaming, jumping crowd that moved the floor of the building several inches up and down (which for a moment instilled grave concerns of structural instability. but for just a moment). They began a sing along of the South African national anthem to drumming, Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika, or God Bless Africa in Xhosa. I thought:

"I'm in Africa!"