Shangri-la la laaaaaaaaaaa

Three, the number of times I've traveled to Zhongdian, the number of kings (as in of orient are), the magic number, as bolstered by De La Soul, Run DMC, and A Tribe Called Quest--because hey, you can't refute the magic in old school hip hop groups comprised of three people.

But nonsense aside, I'm on my second day of my ISP--and unlike what I've previously reported plan-wise, I'm not in Kunming, and I won't be for about another three weeks. Why? Because I decided that instead of holing myself up in a Kunming dorm room for weeks in order to get through and literarily analyze a sprawling Chinese epic, I'd rather zip back up to Zhongdian. But why, Samuel Hart? What tomfoolery are you up to?

...So, here's the objectives of my new ISP:
1. To learn as much as I can about the role and history of traditional Tibetan music, including an attempt at learning to play a traditional Tibetan instrument, whose name I for some reason can't yet get to stick in my head.
2. To use a borrowed recording device to record as many people singing and playing as many Tibetan songs as possible, thereby creating a small sampler-catalogue of Zhongdian-area Tibetan traditional music (I'd probably need months to get a full catalogue).
3. Use what I know of traditional Tibetan music and compare it to the tourism-ispired Tibetan pop music that currently gets blasted in the streets, and go even further to use this contrast as a lense through which to view the effect of tourism on Tibetan society.

With those original objectives in mind, y'know, the ones I came up with two days ago, I've already had to shift my priorities. Today, friday, has contained first a disheartening event, which was then followed by a wonderful one.

To break it down: I came into this thinking that I had a teacher, this guy who was willing to teach me how to play (goddamnnit what is that instrument called? It's like an Erhu, sorta, which is like a violin, sorta) this instrument, but then I met up with him today. Does he have time for lessons? Nope. Does he have an hour or two, just an hour or two, this week or next week, when I can interview him about music, and perhaps record him playing (I also clarified that this was for an educational project and was in no way for sale--oh yeah, and ps, I can pay you for your time!)? Nope. Oh, and what's that? You say that the whatcha-ma-callit is too difficult for anybody to get any good at it in three weeks, so I should give up? Okay, great, thanks...

A little disheartened, I returned to the cultural center. For most of my project here, I'm staying in a wonderful place: a cultural center where a few students (including my program friend Ashley, who is taking classes with them) learn how to paint traditional Buddhist Tankas under a monk/Tanka-master. Usually three meals a day, and really great people. Anyway, I join them for lunch, and relate my defeat, when Somo (pronounced Tsomo), the main cook's daughter who came over to take her mother's place for the day, tells me that her father knows how to play (arrrg, is it pujiam? pujio?) and sing tons of traditional folk songs, and invites me to come visit him. Yes! I shoulder my guitar and we hop on the bus, and soon we're at the town college's campus, where Somo's father has a cot in the gate-keeper's house. We exchanged songs (I recorded four songs from him, two with instrument, two without, and I played him a couple American folk songs). Then he did some traditional dancing steps, and I responded with some tap dance moves (thank you 42nd street!). Somo's mother, the cook at the center, came too, and at the end of all this invited me to visit their home and eat with them on Sunday. And her father told me that I could drop by his gateguard's cot any time to exchange songs and practice on his (yup... whatever it's called). Any discouragement caused from Denju, the would-be teacher, was erased.

So the plan now is still probably more recording and interviews then anything else, but it's at least good to hear that somebody will suffer me as a student. And at the suggestion of Somo, I'm going to try and catch a bus out to a rural village or two next week, where people supposedly have songs for every occasion: cutting wood, building houses, weddings, etc...

So that's what I'm doing here--more on the place itself soon. And yes, some of you may be thinking "But Sam, it's not in the province of Tibet--Zhongdian is in Yunnan!", but this is definately a Tibetan place. The culture, the written language (however the spoken dialect is different), the religion, the mountains, the monks, the yaks, are all the same, given the differences between general areas.

Okay, no more time for writing. I need to buy more long underwear and an electric blanket. I'll try and figure out how to post audio on this thing, even though so far the songs I've been recording have come out a little quieter than I'd have liked... Might buy a better device, we'll see.

Oh, and I almost forgot. Three, the number of names I have in China: Samuel Hart Johnston, Zhang Hai Song (Flat-Object Ocean Wise-Tree), and since today, Lobsang Phadan (Good mind, good heart, who can do anything he wants to do (yes, that is the general translation)).

until next time, happy trails.
-s