had a friend who studied some sort of african drumming with some sort of african-drumming-and-performing-arts-focused intentional community not far from here.
he described some of his study--which focused now on one voice or drum or orisha then on another--and personal experiences, but there was a strong spiritual & discipline component implied by his reticent behavior and reluctance to speak too much of it. sometimes he would gently nudge me toward some other resource: a book or recording.
often he would hand drum on his legs or a table edge while we were basking in music, and he would clearly be paying attention to something drummerly-technical. sometimes he would hand drum on his leg as i played something on another instrument.
he gave me a conga.
and was prevented, by his discipline, from giving me any instruction as to its use.
once or twice he played that conga while i played something on another instrument.
he died.
i have learned some semblance of some basic strikes upon the drumhead & some beginners exercises through the internet. but remain untutored. and wonder about the well-being of that drum there, mostly unplayed. and certainly never being used to the fullness of its design & purpose.
those of his surviving family with whom i have been in touch gladly consent to my possession and control of the object.
and i understand that community to have lost its ... patriarch? leader? host? teacher? ... about a year before my buddy died, and do not know what has become of the members. surely among them are people who seriously studied this discipline of the drum alongside my friend, who still do so, and would use my friend's conga in a way that honored a meaningful part of his memory.
a way that i cannot use it.
i do not know how to reach out to them. i have driven to and from the hill but don't think i could find my way back there, and wonder, after the death of the patriarch, then my buddy, then the cov2 pandemic, whether there is still a the hill there.
he has a daughter whom i know but haven't encountered since shortly before his death. i don't know how to reach her but have tried to enable her to reach me.
anyway, i don't really want to relinquish the beautiful instrument. i want to magically be able to play it well. but i don't. i try to gently keep that skin lively by occasionally fumbling through those exercises & a shot at wawako (sometimes guanguanco). but i've known drummers and know that i am no drummer.
and an instrument should be played.
[trumped under the couch]: 👀