There is one aspect of my adoptive country of residence which I have so far neglected to mention in this here blog what I have, like. And it is up there with the family of nutters I live with, the tiny children I teach and my powerful bedside fan, in terms of how much I cherish and adore it. MUSIC. It’s everywhere, street corners, shops, patios, taxis, even the classroom every now and again. Although there is a huge variety of types of music and artists, all boasting a vast repertoire of songs, most ‘up-to-date’ people claim to know all Mexican songs, and from what I’ve seen, they don’t seem to be pulling my leg (they leave that to the aforementioned small children, when it extends to biting my leg as well). Recently I’ve felt a lot less like an English girl on foreign soil, solely down to my increased knowledge of Mexican songs. 50% of the time I recognise the singer of a song that comes on at a party, or that a friend cranks up on the juke box (one of my favourite aspects of chilled nights between friend), and I can more or less sing the chorus or at least hum the melody.
With my new-found confidence in national anthems, I pushed for an outing to a concert in Minatitlan, ‘La Arrolladora Banda Limon’, of the banda genre (think brass instruments, accordion, 15-peice all-male ensemble dressed in mariachi-style suits). I knew a couple of their songs, knew they were famous and popular all over the country, and bought their CD on the day to try and cram some lyrics-learning. What more reason could I need? Though my supposed excellent planning was shot down by Elias and Teresa when I waved goodbye, dressed in long shorts, a vest top and sandals with my trusty handbag over my shoulders. ‘Oh no you don’t’. So they kitted me out in a checked shirt, cowboy boots, jeans, and nothing more that what I could fit in my pockets. It’s what you do at banda concerts apparently. And right they were. I was even treated to a comically large cowboy hat by a recently-made friend, so as to fit in with the hundreds of men and women who looked ready to ‘yee ha’ and lasso something horny.
Next on the agenda is an Espinosa Paz concert at the end of the month. But this time I’m a genuine fan. I’m already busy studying his back-catalogue and have postponed travelling plans to be within nose-hair-pulling distance of the minor romantic banda star.
NB: I would recommend checking out other genres as well, banda isn’t the only one: salsa, merengue, cumbia, reggaeton, ranchero, Tex-Mex and pop.
No comments:
Post a Comment