Blake returns to cyberspace! At last!

Hey everybody,
Sorry it’s been so long since my last post—it’s been a really busy two weeks and I’m still adjusting to my schedule, trying to find good times to write. I have class from 8:30 to 6:00 everyday, then I head directly home to my host family, the Diallos, and spend time eating and talking with them, so I don’t have a lot of extra alone time in my life right now. With the onset of Ramadan, however, I now have a solid block of free time in the middle of the day, formerly known as “lunchtime,” and writing helps distract me from daydreams of milkshakes and stuffed crust pizza.
The program is going really well so far—the other students are interesting people, classes are going well (although Wolof is really difficult—it’s hard to learn a language when you have absolutely no familiar sounds or word roots to latch onto), and I love my family. I have a really sweet mother, or “Yaay” in Wolof, a nephew named Mohammad who has more reckless energy than any other one-year-old on the face of the planet, three sisters, and four brothers. I share a room with one particular brother named Karim, who is a pretty interesting character—he has no formal job, per se, but at different times I have seen him get paid to do each of the following things: selling cell phones, yard work, arranging the affairs of two overweight French businessmen who are going to a village in eastern Senegal to buy large quantities of gold (this one is pretty shady), selling coconuts, dealing stereo equipment, distributing large quantities of bananas from Côte d’Ivoire, selling boubous (traditional Senegalese clothing worn by men), trading in parts for motorbikes, selling video cameras, and running courier services for local businesses. He also plans to assemble the first collection of crossword puzzles in Wolof and sell them to newspapers and schools. He is coming and going constantly, but he is one of the most dynamic, charismatic people I’ve ever met, and we’re having a lot of fun together, although our sleeping schedules rarely align (he usually comes to bed about an hour before I wake up in the morning).
My host mother is very lovely as well. She’s widowed, but really fills the house with a loving, motherly presence. She lectures me about caring for my own mother, telling me that Americans don’t know how to honor their parents—but at least we’re not as bad as the French, who “don’t even care if their mother dies.” She is very funny and she’s especially proud of me for fasting.
The Ramadan fast has been a wonderful discovery. I love the sense of familial closeness it brings to our house—as the hour to break the fast approaches, everybody gathers together to wait, and afterwards we spend the night together, eating and drinking. During the day, there is a sense of austere piousness in the streets—people are warm and friendly, but mannerisms are more reserved. At night, however, the mood is jovial and festive. Fasting is pretty tough, but it gets easier each day. Going without water is harder than going without food, especially in the heat.
Unfortunately, I just found out that the only other boy in my program has decided to return home—he’s not feeling well and he’s been having a really hard time adjusting to the new culture…which leaves me the lone vestige of manhood among eighteen students.
Ok, sorry this post is kind of a brusque summary—I’ll try to keep the blog more up-to-date, with more detailed and interesting posts, from now on. Take care!

Alphousseyni Kouyate shreds the kora (part II)

The second piece (please see the last post below, sorry but Imeem won’t let me put two songs in the same post) is really interesting--I’ve never heard it anywhere before, it’s called "Sibinnorbakari," I think. It starts with a rhythmically free introductory section, then at about the third minute it really kicks into gear: Alphousseyni plays a gorgeous, contrapuntal pattern in the lower middle register of the instrument. That he manages to maintain the elevated sweetness in his voice while outlining the intricate kora accompaniment is really incredible--you hear a lot of kora players, even really good ones, back off of the tricky parts while they sing (the focal point during such passages are the lyrics anyway, so usually the kora is understated), but Alphousseyni’s fingers keep flying across the thick bass strings with ease. Damn.
So there are a few more tunes from Senegal. I’ll try to keep posting music (including other people’s playing--Alphousseyni is just so good I can’t help myself) as I record it and I hope that the technical side of things is working--I can’t test the mp3’s embedded on the blog page because the internet connection in Pekine is too slow, so if it’s not working, let me know and I’ll try to fix it.
Hope you are all doing well, and I miss you!

Alphousseyni Kouyate shreds the kora (part I)

This morning (August 28), Alphousseyni and I had a marathon recording session at his uncles’ house. The "recording studio" was pretty haphazard--he sat cross-legged on the floor for two hours and sang into the microphone that I had taped to a stick and leaned up against a chair. Alpho played his kora with typical elegance the entire time, and his singing was incredibly on-key; we finished nine songs, each one a live track with vocals and kora, and he never once needed a second take on any song. I realized anew today what a rare talent Alphousseyni is--even by the high standards of the Mandinka community here, he is a standout. I personally have never heard a kora player, live or on record, with a more beautiful voice, and he plays with the effortless grace of a true master. I am pretty lucky to have fallen into his lap as his protectorate this month; I am really living, eating, and sleeping with (and being kept awake at night by the snoring of) an artist who might not have many rivals in the entire world, seriously. With comparable talents in the US, I sincerely think Alphousseyni would be famous; here in Dakar, though, he is sadly just another highly skilled, professionally trained musicians who can’t make a living. I wish my equipment and feeble skills as a recording engineer were better--my sloppy work does not do his artistry justice, but at least you can get an idea.
I’ll post two very different selections from the songs I recorded this morning, the first of which is a really beautiful piece called "Maryama." If you listen closely towards the end of the song, you will hear Alphousseyni sing for me in the traditional manner--he bestows blessings on me for being kind, and praises Karina and my mom (I think he forgot your name, Dad, sorry), and also says that Washington State is beautiful. Anyhow, I love the sound of the kora in this piece--he plays a looping pattern in a high register and the effect is really mesmerizing.
Please see the next post above for the second piece!