music

When I look back at the time I spent volunteering in Salvador da Bahia, Brazil in 2006, it seems so natural, so inevitable that I would end up in there at some point in my life. I often forget about what drew me to it in the first place: Banda Didá, an all female drumming ensemble that is based there. Before learning about that group, I hadn’t even heard of Salvador, an Afro-Brazilian city in the northeastern part of the country.

Music as it pertains to social movements or social justice has always been a topic of interest for me. When I came across a documentary called Girl Beat: Power of the Drum, I was automatically drawn by the synopsis. It highlighted the Banda Didá organization and the work it did to empower females of African descent in Salvador.

Banda Didá was powerful. I couldn’t believe this group of women whose hands and arms pounded out the rage of the remnants of European enslavement to the beats of West Africa. At the same time, their bodies moved fluidly and rhythmically and their faces beamed with pride in their heritage.

The documentary revealed another world, one that I had not yet been privy to, but in which I felt I likely belonged: Afro-Latin culture. In mainstream grade school education in the United States, the fact that Africans were enslaved in many other parts of the Americas is often ignored. The vivacious modern cultures of Latin America and the African influence on many of them is often overlooked. At that point in my life, I was vaguely aware of Afro-Latin America, but that was the first time I’d seen it so tangibly.

As the daughter of immigrants from a small West African country, I’d grown up on the periphery of belonging. I’d accepted that position at that point. But Salvador da Bahia seemed like a place where the distinct mix of cultures that went into my creation was very much the norm in a very visible way. And sure enough, it was.

There’s a bit of drumming at the beginning of this, but skip to 1:00 for the good stuff. Those drums are heavy, and these women make dancing with one attached to your hips look easy.

I saw Banda Didá for the first time in person just a few days after I arrived in Brazil. Every Tuesday night from August until Carnival, they have a big party in Pelourinho, Salvador’s historic center. They call it a “rehearsal” for Carnival and it’s an insanely fun night of government sanctioned partying. There are concerts, street food and drinks, and baterias (drumming ensembles) marching down the cobblestone streets.

A drum circle with an intrinsic sense of spirit and all kinds of soul.

{ 6 comments }

I’ve had Mehndi/Madhorama Pencha in my music collection for a while now and have always loved the joyfulness of it. The percussive clapping and the freewheeling female vocals always inspire me to move. It wasn’t until after the wedding I attended in Kolkata that I found out that mehndi is the application of henna and there are whole wedding festivities centered around it. And it was only after I looked up the song for this post that I found out that it is a Punjabi folk song and the version of it I have is from the movie, Monsoon Wedding. Though the song is Punjabi, and the wedding I attended was Bengali, it seemed like an appropriate song to share before I get into talking about the sights and sounds of a four day Indian wedding.

After watching the video, the scene is exactly what I expected after hearing the song many many times. But I couldn’t get behind the lyrics. They are obviously sung in jest, but to me, they come across as chauvinistic. The man has his pick, and the “fair woman” is the chosen one for seemingly no other reason than being light skinned. That’s the thing with world music, you can really get into a song based on the sounds, and then sometimes the lyrics disappoint you. I have yet to see Monsoon Wedding, but I really want to. It seems to cover a variety of gender and relationship issues that are common in India and I’m curious to see how it approaches them.

What are your thoughts on the lyrics of this song?

{ 3 comments }

One of my most awesome travel experiences in 2010 was an impromptu five day solo exploration of the Eastern Sierras at the end of the summer. If you have never taken a solo road trip, I highly recommend it. It’s an exhilarating expression of freedom and you can connect much more with your surroundings when you’re not tempted to chat. And of course, you can sing loudly to whatever music you like.

Like with 7 Songs by Women to Empower You for Your Journey, I perused my music collection to come up with a playlist of more unlikely travel song suggestions for a solo road trip. I wanted to steer clear of the obvious, so no Free Bird or Born to be Wild on this list. I’ve come up with seven songs about yearning, busting out, movement, and coming home to inspire you and to sing along with:

» Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World (covered and reworked) by Israel Kamakawiwoʻole

Play this song when: You’re longing to take a road trip.

» Turn and Run by Alice Russell

Play this when: You’ve broken free and you’re leaving town.

» Gone Wanderin’ by Jackie Greene

Play this song when: You’re settling into the road.

» Feeling Good by Nina Simone

Play this song when: You’re absorbed in your beautiful natural surroundings.

» Everybody Ona Move by Michael Franti

Play this song when: You want a song to groove in your seat to; when you like your bass “loudy, loudy, louda..”

» This Land is Your Land (covered and reworked) by Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings

Play this song when: You’re seeing or experiencing a less than ideal reality of wherever you are.

» When the Night Feels My Song by Bedouin Soundclash

Play this song when: You’re on your way home.

What are your favorite road trip tunes? Feel free to suggest a song!

{ 7 comments }