Drumming Words

Amidst the craziness of this coffee deal, getting ready for a week and a half vacation and hopefully purchasing the land next door, I'm taking a six week African dance class. The group that teaches the class is Jeh Kulu Dance Company and they are out of Burlington.

They're from West Africa and the teacher comes with three or four drummers. There are twenty or so women and two men, one of which shakes his bootie like no white man I've seen. The first class was held the night that our friend held the "dry run" for his new restaurant so I drank a half glass or so of wine before showing up for class that night. The second night, I skipped the wine by chance and discovered that the wine is essential. Even if it's three sips!

My good friend grew up with the Beatles and tarot cards. When I was eighteen or nineteen, her mom introduced us to a psychic who was in town for a few weeks. The psychic, upon meeting me briefly, proceeded to draw an elaborate drawing that she then explained. There were all kinds of details and totems and past lives, one of which was as an African woman (banished from the tribe, but that's another post).... I never knew how much weight I put into this encounter but I've always kept the drawing and remembered what she had to say, as did the friend I went with.

After these dance classes, though, graceful as I might otherwise be on my feet, all I can think to myself is that woman must have been wacked!