Pier

Pier

Friday, July 19, 2013

Getting a Haircut

 If I’m in the States and getting a little shaggy, I usually drop by a low-cost barbershop/salon like SuperCuts and get a haircut. No need to make a reservation, I’ll just wait for my turn to have whatever available salon attendant call my name and then sit in a chair for about 10 minutes while he or she trims my hair with scissors, a comb and clippers, maybe making some forced small talk about weather, what I do, etc. It’s a mostly perfunctory activity – basic maintenance to look like a somewhat respectable adult – involving little planning and not something I particularly relish. Here – by the shore, in my coastal Afro-Colombian site – however, I enjoy getting my haircut and actually plan ahead for it (well, as much as one can plan ahead for anything here). And by planning ahead, I mean calling my buddy Yesid to see when he’s not working on a boat, fishing or accompanying his wife on errands in the city and when we can get our schedules to match up for a haircut.

Key ingredients for my haircuts: Two razor blades, my trusty American comb, and a plastic chair.
The scheduled day and time arriving, I’ll grab my comb and swing by a little store to purchase two disposable razor blades (300 pesos each, about 15 cents) before meeting up with Yesid at his house or that of a family member and plopping down shirtless into an empty plastic chair. Placing a razor blade on top of the comb, Yesid will scrape it back and forth through my hair, gradually trimming to a uniform length. After the main work is done, and the razor blade dulled from slicing hair, Yesid will fold it until it snaps in half, then once again, placing the metal discard on a nearby windowsill or tree branch until we’re done for me to throw away (per my request, rather than just throwing it into nearby brush as is the common approach in town). A fresh blade slipped from its paper wrapper, he then goes tends to finishing the edges, trimming my sideburns in the local style.
Working on the top
Making our way up the left side of my head
Client and expert island barber
Not only are razor blades effective at trimming down cutting men’s hair, they are also incredibly wieldy for carving out intricate designs according to customer preference. The month of November, chock full of local festivities, includes a heavy emphasis on really neat hair styles. Last November, Yesid himself had an iguana shaped out of his hair, its two eyes slightly protruding on the crown of his head and a tail coiled around one side of his head. Were my hair the same tight, curly consistency, I would have begged to have him give me that style, even at the risk of having my school principal a little perturbed by pushing the envelope on the school’s dress code.

Getting it done


Whereas I find American haircut small talk excruciatingly uncomfortable, I enjoy the conversation with Yesid. He pleasantly peppers me with questions about the US and regales me with humorous anecdotes of recent events in town. Usually there are a few other young guys hanging around which most likely means them (unsolicited) gregariously teaching me new slang words for male and female genitalia or making fun of each other or me (although I am usually unaware when I am the butt of a joke, the local street vocabulary endlessly replete with words I have never heard before or recognizable words used in a completely different sense). With a razor blade so close to my scalp or face, I’ve never been cut, even though I spend a good chunk of each haircut laughing.
Trimming the edges with the razor
When all is said and done, I try to slip Yesid a $5,000 peso bill for his work, an action that is often rejected. “Don’t worry about it” he says stepping back so I can’t stuff the money into his pocket, already knowing that he won’t accept it directly.Whereas this part of Colombian can easily seem like a place where everyone tries to charge the gringo more, I find it difficult to pay for this service and not out of lack of trying on my end. Last year Yesid studied in a community English class I taught at night so we had an implicit understanding: Since I didn’t charge anything for the class (spending my own money on photocopies and markers), he never charged to cut my hair.No longer in the class this year, he still insists on not charging me for the class or only when he needs it. (“I’m good this week; don’t give me anything. Pay me twice next time instead, otherwise I’ll just spend the money on something unnecessary” he has said to me on several occasions. “But that’s what you told me last time!” I usually protest.)  At least once he would only accept 1,000 pesos for the purpose of buying his infant daughter a fresh diaper. I think the exchange of money just makes him uncomfortable, especially between friends. I would guess that most of the haircuts he gives for free or for whatever loose change the customer has in his pockets at the moment, most of them being friends that lack stable incomes.
Funky island cut: The Nautica logo carved into the back of a teenage guy's head

Funky island cut: I told my friend Julio that with this cut he looked like a watermelon
I get my hair cut about once every other week or every three weeks. It is not uncommon for the men in my town to get their hair cut every week, thereby always looking good for the ladies and ready for any local festivities.

My neighbor Carlitos getting a trim



Let's Play!!!

 
A culè defender hard at work
 More than half of the 1,800 or so residents of my town are youth or children, so there is almost always someone playing some kind of game. Traditional sports are often in action for kids, teenagers and adults. Soccer, of course, is huge (this being Latin America, after all) with several fields of various size and condition in use during long stretches of the day. Soccer is played – usually barefoot, except for the odd gringo that doesn’t feel like stepping on a sharp rock or shard of glass – in the concrete micro-cancha (“mini field”) and in at least three large dirt patches in the hot sun and in the pouring rain, the sand and gravel turning into thick mud and in the street. Baseball also happens in one of the fields, known as the “softball field” for where town men occasionally play softball on Sunday afternoons in beer-soaked matches with other Afro-Colombian community teams. Some of my neighborhood students even got hold of real tennis rackets and a few balls and convert the sandlot next to my house into a dirt tennis court for a few hours each day, placing a long stick on two logs for a makeshift net structure (minus the actual net) and scratching boundaries in the hard sand. (Tennis is currently on pause this week as the last ball got destroyed between zealous smacks and being left in the rain.)
 
Makeshift tennis court
Playing some island tennis
Board games and the like are also often underway. Dominos can be found being slapped down on many tables through town by kids, teens and adults, replete with smack-talking regardless of age (usually much less of it happening at tables with females than at male-dominated tables). The basic version is how it is played – four players with seven dominos each, the goal being to match number ends until one player successful disposes of all his dominos and wins. Betting often occurs with adult males playing for 5,000 pesos per hand (about US$2.50) with players rotating in and out depending on who wins and who loses. Losing players – as identified either by number of dominos remaining in their hand at the end of the round or, in cases of equal number of dominos in the hands of multiple players, the higher tallied number of dots on their dominoes – not only lose the money they bet but also have to buy a round of beer for the other players. Highly skilled gents who have a lucky day at the table can drink all day long without paying for their beer and also making some extra spending money (which will mostly be spent buying beer when they wind up having an unlucky day at the domino table or continue drinking after play ceases and the dominos are put away). And though kids don’t always gamble, it is not uncommon to see them play for coins and earn or lose some of their snack money while adult women idle away their time playing a dice board game for change.
Playing some bones (though they just call it Dòmino)

Dominoes

A betting game during the week of the town festivities - place a coin on a number (or on the line connecting numbers) and win or lose depending on the roll of a die

Placing some bets, winning and losing snack money
Marbles come and go throughout the year, with the intensity of a fever. Play is for keeps and these kids have no mercy, having personally made several trips from a game to a nearby corner store to buy marbles for about 50 pesos each as I kept losing, the winners “killing” my marbles and adding them to their soda bottles full of marbles won through fierce play.
A homemade mini-billiard table

Some of my neighbors having a fun time
A group of teenagers entertaining themselves training their fighting cocks

Where I’m most impressed is when kids make up their own games or have traditional games that require little or no materials. One of my students taught me a game that involves throwing two coins against a wall with the aim of the coins landing on the ground separated by a distance commensurate to that between their thumb and pinky when the hand is fully spread. The player who gets closest to having their coins land that distance wins the round. Any two kids can play it together as long as they have two coins and a decent wall to use.
My student Brayan throwing a couple of coins against the wall

Two coins on the floor about a handful apart - a pretty good throw.

Another game – “palitos,” or little sticks – is a kind of a low-tech Operation, played with just a handful of popsicle sticks (anywhere from 10 to 20 of them). To start the sticks are gently tossed in the air an inch or two to land on the table or school desk underneath.  The player then chooses one loose popsicle stick and uses it to slowly and carefully move another popsicle stick without shifting any others, repeating the process until they accidentally move an unintended popsicle stick (like getting shocked in Operation). Adding up the number of sticks successfully moved, the next player throws the sticks to start his or her turn with the aim of surpassing the highest number achieved. Purchase a small bag of popsicle sticks and you can easily be on your way, either competing against a friend or practicing solo.
Playing palitos as school before class starts

Trying to get the sticks free without disturbing the others
One stick removed!
Making progress in a round of palitos
The current town favorite is a game called Culé (sounding like “cool LAY”), played with nothing other than a plastic cup of juice, a small chair to set the cup on, and a ball anywhere between the size of a small soccer ball or a full-sized soccer ball. Said ball can be either completely flat or fully inflated – it simply doesn’t matter as the ball is not intended to bounce. I have seen the game played with anywhere from 6 players to around 15 players. Divided into two teams, one team is on offense and one team on defense (my own terms). Defense guards the cup of juice with the ball while the offense tries to grab the cup and drink all of the juice before getting hit with the ball as thrown by a defending player. If an offense player is hit with the ball (usually from an accurate strike or getting tagged in “Monkey in the middle”-like  coordination between two or more defenders) he or she is “burned” (quemado) and out of play. Play continues – even if the juice is gradually  decreasing by sipping offensive players –until either all of the offensive players are “burned” or the cup is completely emptied and the successful offensive player finishes the last drop without getting “burned” and yells “Culé.” With each round the two teams alternate between offense and defense with neither team concerned about keeping track of the score. It’s an exciting game to watch and it’s really great to see a bunch of kids having a ton of fun playing a game that requires no investment other than a packet of Frutiño or SunTea (a  mere 500 pesos and 800 pesos, respectively) to make a pitcher of juice.
A cup of juice on a chair before a game of culè

Attacking and defending!!!


The classic "monkey in the middle" defense approach in action as an offendsive player takes off

Going for the cup while the defense recovers the ball!!!


 
Time to drink some juice and switch sides

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Water Run!

9:30 a.m. on a Friday. My host mom asks, "Mike, would you like to go to El Bosque?"

Sleepy, I demur momentarily and then commit. "Yes!" I respond. "When are they leaving?"

"In a minute or two," she informs me.

"I'll be ready" I say, quickly swallowing half a mug of coffee before running into my room to grab my wallet, iPod to take photos (my camera being on temporary loan to a community member who wanted to document a project in town), and my Peace Corps-issued life vest.

After having worked for most of the school vacation on activities for the youth and children Afro-Colombian drumming and dance groups I started with a local counterpart, I had planned to finally spend a day relaxing and reading before the start of the second half of the school year. But I didn't want to miss a trip to El Bosque to go on a water run and see where the water comes from that my community and I use to drink, bathe, and wash.

In addition to selling beer, snacks, and school supplies from the house where he and his wife, Adela, live my host mom's dad, Chicho, earns a living bringing potable water to town and selling it. He and his son, Edinson, (my host mom's brother) make the trip in to El Bosque once or twice a week to fill a chalupa full of water tanks to bring back to the island. With most of their trips happening before 7 am or on days when I have school or other project obligations, I usually am unable to join them. Leaving later than usual and on a day I was free, I jumped at the chance to join Chicho in his water run.

From my passenger seat, looking out over the bow of the chalupa, empty water barrels in front of me.

Port machinery on the mainland in the distance

High rise condos in wealthy section of the city off in the distance.

Gigantic chalupas as we get closer to our destination. Chalupas like these are occasionally used for trips to and from Panama.

Sail boats
Pulling into El Bosque, we had to wait about forty minutes for our turn to fill up - already at dock was a flat boat that is basically a transportable water tank. Water is pumped into the body and then the ship heads away from the mainland to deliver water to to a larger town on my island or further out toward the ocean to an archipelago as neither places, like my community, have potable water sources and therefore require water to be shipped in.
   
Water tank boat.
 After the water tank boat filled and began its journey our of El Bosque, Chicho pulled his chalupa around within reach of the water hose and spigot. Twice a small motor boat, a lanchita, came around the side with the double purpose of filling a handful of water jugs and dropping off some of our town folk who were finishing work in the marina and waiting to hitch a ride on a boat back to town (we had three friends join us on our trip back in).
Water boat getting some repair work done on it, our chalupa getting ready to fill up, and a lanchita with some of our neighbors filling up a few water jugs before heading back to the island.

Empty tanks,eager for water.

Filling up a large tank

Filling up some tanks while a lanchita waits to get some water for about a dozen water jugs to bring back to town.
Our chalupa had three different sizes of tanks: Large tanks, barrels, and jugs. Chicho fills the tanks and barrels with the hose and inserts a smaller hose into the end to feed into the jugs, an innovative technique which allows him to fill the jugs and tanks simultaneously. In his efficiency from years (or maybe decades) of water trips, Chicho filled all the tanks, barrels,and jugs in a brief 27 minutes. ("I told you it would be about half an hour" he said, showing me the timer on his watch).
A couple barrels getting filled

Finished with the filling, Chicho stands on the stern while one of our friends - catching a ride on the chalupa - guides the boat away from the filling area.

Coming back into town

Chicho expertly backed our chalupa into the space between these two large chalupas, parking us at the port in town.
All told, the water trip took about three hours, getting us home just in time for lunch. Arriving to port, Chicho usually pumps water from all the tanks to large storage tanks on land and sells water by the jug from these tanks. I have the luck to live right next door to his son, Edinson, who also fills three tanks with water from the chalupa - whereas many people have to push wheel barrows of water tanks across town to get their water, I can just walk next door to fill up a jug when needed. With power being out this particular day, we left the chalupa in place rather than connecting the pump and filling the tanks. If power is out and the tanks are empty, Chicho fires up a small generator to give him the electricity needed to power the pump.
Water tanks - pump led in to the center tank, water jug below the tank on the right - to fill jugs for the neighborhood.

Filling up the chalupa only cost Chicho a remarkable $30,000 pesos (about 15 US dollars). Gas cost another $10,000 pesos, and sometimes more when he runs the generator to power the pump when there is no electricity in town. He owns the chalupa (and therefore needs to pay for occasionally repairs), but renting one would cost about $50,000 pesos per day (which is the what he charges when he rents out this chalupa). The consumer price of water is 500 pesos per jug (600 pesos if you pay someone to bring it to you instead of going yourself). With his chalupa full, he can sell about 500 jugs of water, a value of about $250,000 pesos. After gas and other expenses, I estimate that a full trip nets him around $200,000 pesos. Having to respond to consumer needs and anticipate when the tanks might run out, however, most water runs aren't full trips, with his actual earnings being less than my estimation.

Profits provide not only for himself and his wife Adela, but also for his son Edinson and his wife, Lucy, and their two children. Which, of course, means buying water. Lots of water. After all, they need to drink, bathe, cook, and clean, all of which requires fresh water. And with no potable water available on the island, they have to bring it in.


Sunday, June 30, 2013

La Escuela Folclórica



La Escuela Folclórica – Working with Youth and Kids to Strengthen Afro-Colombian Traditions

“We’re Afro-Colombian. This is in our blood.” – My community members, on several occasions
 
Cumbia presentation at school

Identifying a Community Need
My first weekend in town at site, nearly 18 months ago, I walked around to get out of the house and to understand the lay of my new land. If the town was much larger I may have gotten lost, but with only one real street (unpaved like all the other streets, alleys and paths) I wasn’t at much risk of anything other than unexpectedly surprising a stray dog. Crossing around the dusty softball path, seeking shade from the fierce sun, I heard the banging of wood and metal accompanying a joyous and rhythmic yelling. Using anything at hand – discarded and rusted oil drums, plastic buckets, sticks and boards – a group of young kids was getting the energy out of their systems by pounding out beats and belting out chants. In the true sense of the word, it was awesome: wondrous and eye-opening, invoking of awe. I was hit with a wave of aural and visual joy. It was – in sum – totally rad. 

Working with the English teachers in the high school being my primary project, I had my eyes and ears open in an attempt to understand the needs of the community and find a secondary project outside of teaching English where I can (hopefully) make a larger impact during my service. Stumbling upon this raucous group of merrymakers, I was convinced that something related to youth and drumming was where I could apply some energy and get a better understanding of the local culture.
 
Informational meeting - lots of interested teens and kids!
Drums at school - lots of repair work needed

Developing a Plan and Finding a Local Counterpart
After many months of thinking about this idea and having numerous conversations on the topic with neighbors and potential community counterparts, I was well into formulating a solid plan: Reach back into the (gradually disappearing) traditions of this Afro-Colombian community and get the older residents of town to teach traditional dancing and drumming techniques to the musically inclined, rhythmic teenagers and kids, seeking financial support from a Small Project Assistance (SPA) grant from the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) through the Peace Corps to fund the project start up. 
 
Mapalé presentation in the park for the town's festivities
With some frustration that potential community counterparts – critical for short-term success and vital for long-term sustainability – seemed to back out at committing to work on the project with me, through sheer coincidence a master drummer and dancer (“El Doctor” as he is known) moved to my town, escaping the crime of the city to live more peacefully here in town where he had family. A natural partnership was formed between us through evenings spent on his front porch talking about drumming and dancing and the overwhelming amount of free time of the local youth. Using his expertise and experience teaching traditional Afro-Colombian drumming and dancing to youth, my project planning and coordination and relationships with teenage students through months of English classes at the high school, we refined the project plan, roughly:
1.       Gather potential students together to see who wants to learn drumming and/or dancing;
2.       Form a group of youth dancers (12 to 18 years old) to present at the town’s festivities;
3.       Present at the festivities to energize the town and gain momentum for the project;
4.       Apply for a SPA grant to equip the group with the traditional instruments (drums and other percussion, flutes) and uniforms for two traditional styles of dance (cumbia and mapalé);
5.       Strengthen the formation of a youth drumming and dancing group and use these teenagers to help form and develop a similar group for children (6 to 11 years old);
6.       Present both groups locally here in town and the youth group in surrounding communities;
7.       Develop “youth leaders” that can oversee the group and allow it to become a sustainable entity in the community responsible for all future drumming and dancing activities.




El Doctor tuning some drums
Selling the Project and Getting the Funding
Identifying what we had in the community and what we needed for project success, we decided to apply for a SPA grant and seek some financial support to get the group off the ground. After many long nights on my end and many conversations with the Doctor, a local seamstress, other community leaders, my Peace Corps bosses, and the teenagers I submitted our request for SPA funding. Detailing the need for this project and potential positive impact for the community, all foreseen budget expenditures (including how we would meet a minimum 25% financial support of the project to be contributed by the community, either in direct money or in in-kind contribution such as use of space or labor contributed by community members as part of the project), a calendar of activities, goals that we would meet, number of participants and beneficiaries as well as a plan for long-term sustainability, our request pushed for us to receive the maximum financial limit established by Peace Corps Colombia for SPA grants. After a few more email exchanges with the grant coordinator and some additional polishing for the proposal, my counterpart and I took boat, bus and taxi to the PC Colombia office in Barranquilla to present and defend the project to PC office staff – my Project Manager, Director of Programming and Training, Training Manager, Grant Coordinator, and other indispensable personnel that had assisted in shepherding the process. I led the hour-long presentation, completely in Spanish, and then answered questions with my counterpart before being asked to leave the room for a few minutes while the decision makers deliberated. Five minutes later smiles were on all faces in the room, hands extended for firm handshakes with the men, arms opened for hugs with the women. Not only was the project approved, but it was approved at the maximum possible amount for the Peace Corps posting. Awesome. El Doctor and I rushed to the bus stop to make it back to catch the last boat to town, feeling like champs. Money in the bank. The “Escuela Folclórica” (“Folkloric School”) was born.
 
Drum practice
 
One of the drummers hanging out before practice. Instruments from left to right: Llamador, guache, tambor alegre, tambora.
Making Things Happen
There has been way too much going on in this project – and I have been too busy to write detailed postings on all the many aspects of it – to provide an intricate account for now. Here’s a run-down of what we’ve done and how we’re taking the project from a plan to a reality:

  • Juegos de Instrumentos – Drums, other percussion instruments are flutes are what compose the local type of music we would be making. The school had drums that, in theory, we could use but they would need some significant repairs including changing the leather skin (the drums at the school had holes in their skins owing to bugs and being poorly kept). El Doctor got to work making two new sets of drums – working with and leading some of the teenage musicians in polishing the wooden bodies, curing the leather skins, and putting the drums together; not only is the result two sets of drums for the group, but also a transfer of knowledge on traditional drum making techniques and the history of the instruments to the youth drummers. Separately El Doctor purchased additional percussion instruments and flutes to complete each of the instrument sets or “juegos de instrumentos.”
    Untying the tambora for a tuning

    Wooden husks for drums. Left to right: Tambor alegre, tambora, llamador.
  • Estuches – Cases for the instruments. We got these custom made to make sure they fit the drums well. Absolutely necessary for good storage of the drums and to keep them safe from the elements and animals and bugs that might munch on them or burrow into them looking for places to lay eggs.
    Brand new drum cases

    Checking to make sure the drums fit

    What happens to drums that aren't properly cared for...
    Drums poorly maintained and not kept in cases lead short, brutish lives, often winding up in trash piles.
  • Vestuarios – A local seamstress (Liana) has done a fantastic job getting us uniforms, “vestuarios”, for two traditional styles of dance: Cumbia and Mapalé. The final result will be ten cumbia uniforms for youth male dancers, ten for female dancers, ten mapalé unforms for youth male dancers, ten for female dancers, and then six more cumbia uniforms for the youth musicians as they wear the same cumbia clothing for all different songs they play. That will be forty six uniforms in total. After me making a few trips to the market to buy the fabric and other components of the traditional uniforms, Liana has finished the youth uniforms and is now repeating the process to have the same two styles of uniforms for the childrens’ group we are also forming. My room – currently the storage space for the uniforms while we continue to try to identify a more permanent location is awash in while cumbia pants and shirts, bright mapalé shorts and skirts, and sombreros vueltiao worn by the musicians and male cumbia dancers.

    Cumbia uniforms in progress
  • Prácticas – Dance and drumming practice has been pushing forward. The youth have learned not only cumbia and mapalé, but also garabato and cerececé, two other traditional Afro-Colombian styles of dance and music. In this, we are extending beyond the Afro-Colombian traditions of the north Atlantic coast of Colombia and into some of the styles traditional to the Afro-Colombian diaspora on the Pacific coast in the department of Chocó. The kids, practicing Sundays at school, have been learning cumbia and mapalé. I have the luck to join in as well when some of the male dancers fail to show up to practice – it’s a great way to work up a good sweat on and everyone gets a real kick out of my yelling a cumbia “Uepa!” yell or bouncing around in a mapalé solo. I’ve also picked up some rhythms on the tambor alegre and instruction in gaita (the traditional flute with indigenous roots) just got underway with me putting my effort into learning it as best as I can.
    Guiding some young dancers during practice


    Kids´group

    Drum practice with both the kids and teens

    Working on our finger placement during gaita practice

    Drum practice - Trying to get some rhythms down on tambor alegre

    Working on some mapalé moves

    Kids practicing, wearing some sombreros vueltiao

    Even the Peace Corps Volunteer gets a chance to dance!
  • Líderes – The teen group has selected three leaders: One for the male dancers, one for the female dancers and one for the musicians. There has been a little start and stop with delegating responsibilities, but the musician leader – Rafael, a good friend of mine here in town – has been vital in getting things as well organized as they currently are. Other than El Doctor and myself, he’s been instrumental (no pun intended) in pushing this project forward.
    Rafael relaxing on his tambora
  • Presentaciones – We’ve had several presentations and the group has getting requests to present at town events. There have been three presentations for the school – Cumbia, Mapalé, and a separate drumming presentation (including yours truly on tambor alegre) for the Día de la Afrocolombianidad (Afro-Colombian Day). The group showed off their new uniforms for a Mother’s Day presentation at the senior citizens center, an event that was a hit. We’ve been invited to present in the next adjacent town during their town festivities in next month, an occasion that has the teenagers quite excited. And the musicians have shown up as surprise guests at three birthday parties (including my own, nearly bringing me to tears with joy and appreciation) to create some noise.

 
Mapalé presentation at school

Mapalé

Cumbia presentation for Mothers´Day at the senior citizens center

Cumbia presentation at school

Cumbia presentation in the park for the town´s festivities - we borrowed these uniforms since we didn't have any of our own at that time. And the torches were home made.

Mapalé in the park

Pushing Forward and Catching the “Fever”
We’re not without our challenges and we certainly have had our share of frustrations: Lack of a dedicated practice space, competing town events which occasionally distract the youth participants, and – not least of all – the challenges associated dealing with a 40-odd teenage males and females and about 60 children. We’re pushing forward though and have a lot more work to do. Although this is technically a secondary project for me, I find myself spending about equal amount of time working on items for the group as I do in my primary project of co-planning and co-teaching. It’s well worth it, even if it means more late nights and using some of my own living allowance for small things that weren’t included in the original budget (photocopies, boat transportation to the city to buy materials at the market, etc.) It looks like a busy next few months for me and the group as we get more organized and show off our skills in presentations here and in other areas.

It’s going to be a fun next few months working on this project. There is such a “fever” in town now for this activity that I have witnessed impromptu dancing break out in the street and in my house when several of the dancers are together. From my window I often hear the “rat-tat-tat-tat, tat-tat-tat,- tat-tat-tat-tat” of cumbia drumming from kids beating out the rhythm with sticks on buckets or boat hulls. Needless to say, I smile a lot. If this is truly in the blood of the community, we’re striking at the vein.
The musicians getting a primer on the gaita after a presentation

"Uepa!!!" Cumbia dancing in the park.