Widening Horizons a Centimeter or Two

Funny that the Capt and I, hundreds of miles apart, were both doing the same thing last night. In La Cruz he stopped by Philo's for open mic night and Kak was there with a harmonica player. Kak and I sang together here a few times at the Captain's Club before she sailed south.

I went to Bananas' open mic and sang a couple of songs with my friend F. I'd hoped to sing with Los Cuates but I wasn't pushy enough and although they knew I was there waiting they didn't call on me. A little like being the good little schoolgirl with her hand up, waiting to give her answer. But there will be other Thursday nights. Alma la Doctora walked in just as F and I started our first song, and that was gratifying. We did the old Buffalo Springfield song, "For What It's Worth," and I sang "The Rose." Nobody got up and danced, but Alma was generous with her praise. We talked for a while, over the din, and then Ale and Ulisses came in and I was able to introduce them. They seemed to hit it off immediately, though it was impossible to tell what they talked about in Spanish over the noise.

The dancefloor was crowded all night. Two songs were for mujeres only, no partners required, and I kept asking myself why I wasn't out there with them. Early in the evening the dancers were mostly older gringos, but Mexicans always arrive later and stay later, so we stuck around to watch their much livelier and more accomplished moves. They formed circles and pushed people into the middle and made them perform. They formed snake lines (Ulisses called them cadenas) and frolicked all over the room, and spun in dizzying whirls. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and they changed partners often. And there I sat like a stone, watching wistfully. Again, there will be other Thursdays.

Ale amazed me by walking up to the band like a visiting celebrity between songs and asking the band to play a song for her. She did well, even though the key was too low for her and her mic needed to be turned up.

The best part of the evening was after the band closed down and F started playing where we sat. Ale and I sang some Spanish songs together. My heart was full of affection for my friends who showed up to support me in doing something new and a little scary, and regret that I let them down by not being more assertive with Los Cuates. (I wonder, too, if the songs I was asking the band to do are just too boring and dated, so they weren't enthusiastic about them...their priority, after all, is pleasing the audience.)

Ale, who comes from a whole family of musicians in Hermosillo, is getting serious about her music, with singing and guitar classes five days a week at the Cultural Center in Guaymas. I'm envious of that opportunity, but I don't feel ready for classes conducted entirely in Spanish. Another bold step waiting to be taken. And meanwhile, the days dwindle down to a precious few...