On the first day, I was sitting outside the dining room after lunch, playing the guitar, hoping to drum up some interest in my workshop that afternoon. Right away, I met Hector, (photo to the left), who asked me to play Country Roads, by John Denver. "I don't know any John Denver songs," I grumbled, (a long-held prejudice of mine dating back to my teenage years and being told too many times that I looked just like the syrupy folk singer, but that is another story). Undaunted by my grumpiness, Hector suggested "Feelings", or maybe anything by Kenny Rogers. I was starting to get really worried, imagining a long week of singing "You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em..."However, my first afternoon workshop was totally fun, the participants engaged and singing along with all the songs. I was surprised at how many of the songs, like Oh Susanna, they already knew. As I have experienced before in Chile, the love of music and singing is widespread among the people here. Along with the singing, we had some great discussions of the history and politics surrounding the songs, supported by Terri's great research and comments. As the workshop was breaking up, a couple of the participants asked if I could play any Chilean songs. Well, I do know Te Recuerdo Amanda. So I played it, and they sang along, and then they grabbed pencil and paper and made a list of 5 more songs that I should learn. I was beginning to see that I was going to learn much more than I was going to teach this week.
The next day I was not scheduled to present any workshops, but during lunch we started singing Beatles songs at our table, and after I left the table, Catherine made an appointment for me with the other teachers at the table for an informal music session under the trees later that afternoon. Only 4 or 5 people showed up, but they were great, and we went through the folk songs from the workshop. At one point, one of the teachers, on the right in this picture, picked up a couple of rocks and began to beat out the rhythm.On Wednesday evening, I was feeling tired around 10:30, so I wandered back to our cabin for some quiet time to catch up on my reading. Catherine was hanging out with the other Fullbright teachers, catching up with their collective experiences in Chile. Around 11:00, Catherine and Hector came to the cabin, looking for "Danny!". Hector wanted to borrow my guitar and asked if I wanted to come play some music. I was so settled-in that I declined, but gladly lent him my guitar. Soon, I could hear the sounds of singing drifting up the hill from the other cabins. I lasted about 20 minutes, and then said to Catherine, who was drifting off to sleep at this point, that I had to get up and see what was going on down there.
As I felt my way down the hill in the dark, the group called my name and launched into a rousing version of 'Feelings', full of gusto and good humor. I was hooked. At the center was Hector, playing the guitar and fielding requests. Surrounding him were about 20 Chilean teachers, and Bill, the husband of another Fullbrighter, and me. It seemed that all the Chileans knew all the songs. The singing was enthusiastic and heartfelt, and it went on and on, the wellspring of shared songs so deep here in Chile. At some point I was asked to sing a few, and Hector and I traded back a forth for a bit (although he is a much better player than me). A high point for me might have been the duet we sang of Juan sin Tierra, by Victor Jara. Bill and I, as the only gringos in the crowd, kept looking at each other and trying to imagine a similar collection of songs at a party in the USA that everyone would know and sing. I should mention that all of this was happening without any alcohol, fueled solely by the love of the music and shared culture.
I finally gave into fatigue at around 2:00 am (not sure really, didn't have a watch) and stumbled back to bed, but sleep would not come easily, my heart and mind were so stimulated by the outpouring of joy and sadness of the songs. It was humbling to be with those teachers, to swim in the deep waters of their music, to see how they sang with the hearts as well as their voices. I was learning so much more than I was teaching.
Finally, to wrap this up since it is going on longer than I really planned, on the last morning I ended up eating breakfast at a table with Hector. We were talking about the guitar, and I admitted that I just could not master the rhythm of the Chilean national dance, the cueca, on the guitar. Hector admitted that he, likewise, could not get the feel for the rhythm of the blues. We arranged to meet just before lunch, and Hector would teach me the secret to the cuecu, and I would show him what I knew of the blues. To the left you can see the simple sheet that Hector gave me to explain the rhythm of the cueca, 1-2-3, 1-and-2-3. What a master guitarist he was, and what a master teacher. I ended the week feeling that I had received so much more than I had given. As Violeta Parra sang, 'gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto'
