28 February 2014, part II : on becoming a beginner
Larisa Station, Athens
I left Oakland, California, 390 days ago. At the time, I would tell friends that I wanted to approach my next phase — of music & life — as a beginner, open to planting new seeds, a whole new orchard even. But I've only recently begun to realize my tactical error: "becoming a beginner" doesn't mean telling everyone you're a beginner & wearing timidity, while ego secretly crouches, yearning for validation, aching to be recognized as not really a novice. This way lay madness; a community will quite readily take you at your word if, in professing neophytism, you amputate your confidence while feeding your pride table scraps. No, to become a beginner — to become one — requires the exact opposite: the confidence to arrive to listen, to ask, to not know, while diligently weeding your bitter dandelion pride, to prune its suffocating shoots again & again, leaving it to wither & rot, where it can feed more uplifting saplings which, nourished by hearing the music emanating from loving spirits, ultimately spring from the simple act of practice: of hearing ourselves, and sensing (ever more subtly, I hope) what it's supposed to sound like, what our soul meant to say, and seeking how to bring that intention more perfectly into expression.
[Nikos & olives, near Houdetsi, Crete ~ February 2014]
A week ago I flew from San Francisco to Charlotte to Frankfurt to Athens, crossing 10 time zones over the course of 23 hours. Normally I’m over jetlag by the first morning, but not this time. Only this morning did I finally awake at the reasonable, if uncharacteristic, hour of 7:30am, for which I’m grateful.
There’s little of interest to anyone but my mom to report so far. The last two days I was largely out of commission due to a toothache, which turned out to be an infection in the gums, and which is responding well to antibiotics. I owe quite a debt to Ross Daly:
who I’ve come to Houdetsi, Crete to study with;
who found a dentist, open on Saturdays & possessing rudimentary English; &
who picked me up & drove me 15 kilometers to said dentist on a Saturday morning.
I then had the opportunity to ask him some obscure musical & historical questions, and listen in on his rehearsal for his shows coming up this week. He & Kelly even fed me a delectable (and sore-tooth-friendly) lunch afterwards.
(An aside: apparently no one in Crete ever goes to dentists. Ross said he’d not had any dental work since moving here in 1975; Taxiarchis, a 19 year old oudist who works in the Labyrinth office — who’s already a fine player, by the way — has never had so much as a cleaning. Considering that I have five fillings and a root canal & crown, all necessary, I’d love to discover their secret to healthy teeth.)
There is no seminar happening at Labyrinth (my host school) this week, which fact combines with the indecisive rain, my erratic sleep schedule, & pain meds, to make this place feel suspended in time. I’ve been in Houdetsi now almost four days, though I had to think hard to arrive at that number. I would have arrived a day earlier had the ferry workers in Athens not been on strike. The delay worked out fine though, as I had more logistics to deal with than anticipated in the city, and I got to hang out with Rodis & Haroula, my friends from last summer, as well as Rowan Storm, an oft-Athens-dwelling American percussionist whose name I’d heard for years & whom I finally met, serendipitously, on the flight from Frankfurt. (She was holding a Cooperman frame drum bag; I asked, “percussionist?” and we figured out that we know exactly everyone in common.)
At the Fulbright office on Tuesday I got to meet all the really delightful staff, as well as quite a few of the other grantees, including a woman from North Berkeley working on a fascinating adult-learning project I’m at a loss to describe, and her mandolinist husband (another smallworld moment). There’s a woman studying ancient roadside shrines, another working on Italian history in the Ionian islands, and a man exploring social media in the rise of new political parties & movements here. Overall a diverse, interesting crew.
Still trying to find a place & a bicycle, and figure out my itinerary for the next four and a half months. I have some emails out to potential teachers in various parts of the country, but nothing concrete in place yet. In general, on this site I’ll be posting video & audio recordings & plentiful photographs, but at this point I have nothing of the sort with which to spice up my post, so I’ll simply bid you αντίο (adio) until next time!
