December 20 was a day I was looking forward to for several weeks. "Grupo Kjuyay," the indigenous band I've been playing with, had a "post-baptism party gig," and they invited me to play with them! I felt very honored to be included, even though they wanted me to play the electronic drum set. Getting ready for this gig meant we practiced 3-4 times a week the last couple of weeks. The majority of men in the group hail from the indigenous mountain community of Salasaca, which has a very tight knit community on our island. One of the band members, Manuel, was to be the godfather of this baby.
Practices are usually at 7:00 p.m. (which means starting sometime before 8:00 p.m.) and are held at the Salasaca community center, not too far from our house. It took me several weeks of hearing a kena (Andean flute) in the distance before I got the courage to interrupt their practice and introduce myself. I'm sure I was the first gringo to ever approach them during a practice and I know that I was a curious and odd sight. Out of nowhere comes this tall (by indigenous standards I am tall) white guy with a backpack that has a ukelele (which hadn't seen before), a recorder, 2 kenas and a charango (small Andean string instrument). . . and of course a nose flute. They got a kick out of the things I kept pulling out of my backpack. I asked if anyone gave churango or kena lessons. They invited me to their practices, but also wanted someone to teach them how to play bass. I've probably played with them at least 10-12 times in the past 2 months. I've played a combination of charango, electric bass, guitar and the electronic drum set. One night, when not many people showed up, they taught me how to play "The Sound of Silence" on the kena.
Having someone play the electronic drum set for the baptism gig was important to them because they wanted their music to be dance music. Although I play a variety of percussion instruments and have experimented a bit on the acoustic drum set, I have never considered myself a drummer. However, everything is relative, and it was apparent that my limited experience with the drums was more than anyone else had. It also helped that I've played with some pretty great drummers during the pasts 30 years, and have learned a lot from watching and playing with them. Last week they said that I was the best drummer they've ever had! I have felt very welcomed by these musicians and a sense that even though we come from very different cultures, we are all part of some sort of "world musician club." The fact that my main instrument groups are strings, simple winds (recorders, nose flute) and percussion also made me feel at home because those are exactly the same instrument groups that they play.
Most of the guys in "Grupo Kjuyay" are multi-instrumentalists as well. The group is very fluid. Although there were usually 5-6 people at practice, the pool of people in the group is more like 10. Every evening there seemed to be a different combination of guys, and what instruments each person played was based on who was present and what was needed at the time. Sometimes we practiced with a (very loud) sound system and sometimes we had an acoustic set-up. If there was a sound system, I would play either drum set or electric bass. If we had the acoustic set-up, I would play the guitar or the charango. All the guys floated from one instrument to another depending on our set-up and personnel. Twice the police came to tell the band to turn down the volume (practices are always held outside).
The guys in the band told me that the gig would start around 9:00 p.m. and that there would lots of food, dancing and drinking. The idea was that we would play until 2:00 a.m. or until people were too drunk to do anything, which I thought was an exaggeration. Our whole family was invited and we were told to come hungry. Our host family also told us some things about the Salasaca parties as well. They said that they are very generous with their food and can be pushy with offering beer.
On the night of the party our family was picked up at 9:15 p.m. by one of the band members who's also a taxi driver. We arrived at the party, which was held at the baby's family's house, which actually included two buildings, neither of which was finished. There was a larger house and a smaller building, both of which were pretty simple cinder block buildings without the final smooth cement coating and paint job. We were welcomed by Manuel, the band member/god father, who invited Luisa and me to sit with him, the other godfather and about 10 others in the small building. Magdalena and Teresa sat in the small dirt courtyard, along with others. Folks visited with each other in their native language, Quechua, but were also happy to visit with us in Spanish. Manuel and his wife were wearing traditional indigenous clothing, as were some others. For men this means a special white pants and shirt set with a black poncho on top. For women, it's a traditional white blouse, black wrap-around skirt, colorful belt, and special jewelry.
First course was a large bowl of delicious chicken soup, including a large piece of chicken. Second course was a large plate of rice, potato salad (potatoes, apples, carrots and peas), and an even larger piece of chicken. I watched to see if others were finishing their chicken plate because it was way more than I could eat. I was relieved to see that people were being handed "take home bags." (The leftover chicken would be enough to feed our household the next day for supper.) Small shots of wine were served with the meal, but the cold beer didn't appear until towards the end of the meal. I have never been a beer drinker. Actually, I have never been a drinker. As a late teen/young adult it was for moral reasons, but as I got older, I realized that I didn't like the taste and I didn't have a need to drink, even though I was not morally opposed to it. I don't normally have a problem being with other drinkers as long as they are not pushy with their alcohol. I was offered a bottle of Pilsener beer (the primary beer in Ecuador) at supper and I declined, even though it offended the server. I did have a little shot of wine, though.
Around 10:00 p.m. we started playing music. An older guy invited Teresa to the dirt dance floor, and soon a few others joined. Full crates of beer bottles emerged. People were pouring beer into small cups and were offering it all around. Manuel's role as godfather trumped his playing in the band. One of his responsibilities was to make sure everyone was drinking, especially the people in the band. There were no breaks in our set list because the rhythm keeps going in between songs. So, Manuel would come along with a beer bottle and a cup and make each of us drink a whole cup full, even if that meant pouring beer into our mouths while we played. I refused as many times as I could. Once I told him to put the cup onto the floor for me, where I knew it would get knocked over. The more people drank, the more dancing there was and the more animated it got.
Teresa and the girls headed home around 11:00. The band played until around 11:15-11:30. We stopped and started putting instruments into our cases. The next thing on the agenda was more drinking and more dancing--this time with a DJ and recorded music. I tried to be a wall flower, but soon I was pushed onto the dance floor and one of the band members made me dance with his wife. "It's our custom!" he said. People came up to my dance partner and made her drink, even though she tried to refuse. She didn't look very happy; I'm not sure if because she had to dance with this tall white stranger or if she didn't want to drink. I was forced to take a cup, and when they weren't looking, I dumped it on the ground. But that didn't always work, especially with Manuel. "Come on! Just a little drink! It's our custom!"
The pushiness with the beer was making me rather uneasy. It seemed like the goal of this party was to make everyone drunk. Even so, I miraculously escaped only consuming a total of two small plastic cups of beer the whole evening. I thought it was a good time to leave, so I started saying good bye to the band guys. Manuel said that I couldn't go yet because we still had more playing to do. So, I went out to the street away from the dance floor, which had 20-30 people. The street was lined with 30-50 spectators and/or party goers. Sometime after midnight, they cut the huge cake and offered it to everyone in the vicinity. As long as I was in the street and out of the "dance/party zone," I seemed to be safe from beer pushers. Then the most drunk guy of the party came up to me and motioned me to drink. I wasn't sure if he was deaf or was just so drunk that he couldn't speak. He just made lots of motions and acted very disapprovingly when I turned down his drink offer. He then attempted to pour my cup of beer back into his bottle, spilling most of it onto himself.
After I ate my cake, two guys who were sitting in chairs not too far from the dance floor gestured for me to sit with them. They offered me some beer, but were not pushy. They seemed more interested in conversation, which I welcomed. These guys were brothers who were neighbors of the "party house," but were not part of the Salasaca community. One of them said that he was the president of the neighborhood association. At least that's what I thought he said. It was very hard to hear and to talk with the extremely loud dance music. By the end of the evening I had unknowingly yelled myself hoarse. The brothers said that the party would probably go until 6:00 a.m., but that many people would continue to drink throughout the day.
At about 12:45 a.m. it was time to play music again. Things were not as organized as before. The singing was really off pitch and I had to work hard at keeping everyone together tempo-wise. There were 3 drunk spectators standing directly in front of me. They were either cheering me on or simply staring at me. The bathroom was right next to us, and there was a very steady stream (no pun intended) of people going in and out of the bathroom. The men usually did not close the door. One man was taking too long, so another man walked in and peed in the tub. One man couldn't even wait to go into the bathroom so he peed on the wall. By the way it smelled around there, I don't think he was the first.
The more drunk people got, the more uncomfortable I became. When our set was done around 1:15, I was ready to leave. Luckily, when I told Manuel I was leaving, he seemed to understand. He said some very kind things to me like how happy he was that I was there and had played with the band. He also realized that he was too drunk to drive me home. I was more than happy to walk home. No one was fit to drive and the party was going as strong as ever.
In reflecting on this experience with other locals, it was clear that this kind of party is the norm in the Salasaca community. Although their "party culture" is one thing that I don't understand and was very uncomfortable for me, I have really enjoyed playing music with these guys. They have been very welcoming to me and eager to exchange musical knowledge. They are very talented musicians who take their music seriously and are passionate about keeping their music alive.
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