Music Therapy in Africa Trip, 2007

So, I just woke up from about 22 hours of very restless sleep. When I got home yesterday evening, I had a 101.4 fever with chills, nausea, headache, the whole shebang. I think it was a combination of major jet lag, and emotional and physical exhaustion.

I’m feeling somewhat better now, and I’m excited to go over to Karen’s tonight to chat with everyone and just see the group again. It’s weird having been around everyone pretty much 24 hours a day for the past 2 weeks, and now just not being around them.

It’s nice to be home, and it’s both comforting and strange how quickly I can fall back into comfortable routines.

Right now it’s 4pm here, so it’s 11pm in Nairobi. The kids at Nyumbani and Shangalia are probably sleeping, and they’ll wake up tomorrow and have another day. I can’t begin to explain how much I will miss them all. But such is life, and life goes on. I just feel blessed to have been able to share the time I did with the kids.

The seeds have been planted…the connections have been made…the music has been recorded and the extensive video footage documents both the process and the product. But now what? The trip was so short and condensed - can we put this in a bottle and take it home with us? Not really.

This experiential-immersion learning opportunity has complemented the academic studies and encouraged reflection - it gave the students a fresh look at themselves, their education and the world around them. What was profound for me was the student’s accelerated learning curve - in the final practicums in music therapy at Berklee, students are working in medical settings, primarily with children who are quite ill. Students learn to take musical risks, “embrace rejection” as a means to develop self awareness and the confidence to step into the unknown. Sometimes, it takes 2 semesters for the students to begin to understand the process.

For the students on this trip, it was almost immediate. They were ready and open and supported - internally and externally. Across from the PanAfric Hotel, where we are staying, there is a large building called ‘Integrity Centre’ - I think it is an office building, but it really doesn’t matter - these students are responsible, accountable and have much integrity. There has been plenty of opportunity to party and go out ‘clubbing’ but collectively they decided it would take away the focus of the work that is so important. I admire and respect each of them so much. They are leaders and will help set the agenda for music therapy in the future.

I dream of tomorrow, today…

Today was amazing, beautiful, inspiring and bittersweet. It was our last day at Nyumbani, and it was a day that I really, really saw music working it’s magic to connect.

We started the morning off by attending mass with the children at Nyumbani. Music and dance are so intertwined with their everyday lives and it was so beautiful to see the children so engaged and alive. The service was beautiful; many words about unity and connection between people of different cultures, societies, worlds. I was so moved, and felt honored to be a part of everything.

The day was so full. We stayed after the service was over, and started playing music with the kids immediately. They are always so eager to sing with us, and I know that it’s the catalyst for our connections. I ended up with a little girl named Anne, who is new at Nyumbani. She is about 3 years old and doesn’t speak, make eye contact, and generally seems pretty withdrawn. However, when I started singing with her, “I want to sing sing sing, I want to dance dance dance, I want to sing, I want to dance all day long!” and moving with her and bouncing her up and down, a bright grin spread across her face and she started giggling and laughing and making eye contact with me. Then she really started to open up and began really dancing with me… it was really moving and I really felt something click within me during that moment. I have no idea what traumatic experiences she has been through, but I was able to reach her and tap into the child within her in that moment, and it was beautiful.

Summer, Wyndy and I wrote a song a few days ago called “I Dream of Tomorrow Today”. We decided to record the kids at Nyumbani talking about their dreams and what they want to do in their futures. It’s amazing, because these children have such BIG dreams, and many would assume that since they have HIV or AIDS that they wouldn’t. It amazed and moved me that so many of the children wanted to become doctors. We’re going to put their voices into a recording of the song that we’re planning on doing when we get back to the states, and I can already feel how moving it will be.

Another thing that I was able to do today was work with Victor, who is 19 years old, and is a rapper. We worked together on Garageband and I helped him put together a beat, and we then recorded his song. It was amazing how different he was before and after the music. Before we worked together, he was withdrawn, very shy, didn’t make eye contact and would disappear often. The transformation was so drastic while the music began to unfold. He started opening up to me, joking with me, and talking about his future. He said that he does want to be a musician, but he also wants to be a doctor, because he has seen so much sickness and so many people who have not been helped. He also told me he wants to get his phD someday. I know he will if he’s given the opportunity.

What we are doing here is beyond the reaches of my mind to comprehend right now. We’re really making an impact, in a way which I didn’t think was possible. I KNOW it is because of the music we are sharing, and I KNOW that the connections that we make would not be as deep and meaningful without it. It was so difficult to leave today and to say goodbye to the children, however, I know we will all be back, and I think the children really believe that too.

What an amazing adventure this has been. Asante to everyone who has been with us every step of the way.

To restate what Beth already said, I too had a difficult time leaving the girls at Nyumbani. Although I didn’t shed many tears, my heart was crying. I have so many questions. Will I see them again? Will they be there if I do go back? Will they remember me? Will I remember them? Will they continue to write songs and perform? Will we keep in touch? It is so easy to numb the feelings of separating from a place that carries so much stimulation. In a few days I’ll be back in my apartment in the midst of Jamaica Plain, MA. How will I learn to reintegrate the daily routine with the two week experience that occurred way way way way far away? The key for me is to figure out how to keep Kenya and the children in my heart, because I don’t want these memories to ever expire. I expect that this trip has allowed new challenges to blossom, and through this, there is a much wider expansion of possibility.

Today was our last day at Nyumbani. It was so hard. I can’t really explain it right now because I am so numb and overwhelmed. Miriam and I connected with some of the teenage girls there, and we wrote a song that we recorded at a professioal studio yesterday. It was hard saying bye to them today.

I’m pretty tired right now, so there’s not much brain function happening. This entry is mainly just to say hi and that things are good, intense, hard, sad, frustrating, amazing, heartbreaking, bittersweet, happy, funny, tragic, and beautiful.

Every day becomes more and more difficult for us as the realities of what we’re doing, the span of our work and the connections we are making become clearer. These are also reasons why each day becomes better and better.

All of us have fallen in love. There is an energy with these children and a passion with which they sing and play music and LIVE that astonishes all of us, coming from the society that we do. It’s a different passion, drive, energy that none of us feel we have ever lived with, and the lessons we are learning from these children will continue to effect us.

I’m having a hard time processing. At night I just need to cry, and sometimes I do, sometimes I can’t. Wyndy keeps reminding us this is not about us, and is so much bigger than us, bigger than we can even imagine or fathom….

This has to be short, I’m having a hard time coming up with words to explain everything… I’m in love with these children, and I am dreading Tuesday.. I miss everyone at home, but leaving is so hard…. who knows when we will return..? But I know we will… I think we all do…

Friday at Shangalia was difficult for me. I cried a lot. The travel to and from the orphanage gives me a sick feeling in my stomach. When I am not with the kids I feel drained, but as soon as I see them and they jump on me and cheer until we are hugging goodbye as tightly as we can I feel good, in tune, happy to be with them.

 But when we leave I am again filled with strong emotions that shift from label to label, trying to find one that fits: sadness, anger, passion, fear, inspiration, frustration, confusion, love. It is so clear that this trip was meant to happen and it’s hard to deny the divine intervention that is taking place. I feel in line with Purpose, but when that happens there is resistance. The changes will make me deeper, more loving and giving and grateful, but also more upset and lost and wondering. I am really nervous to leave. We only have one more visit to each orphanage. I already know I will feel out of place at home, but home isn’t quite here either. I am reshaping myself and it’s going to take a while for the entire puzzle to shift enough to accomodate the changes. That puzzle is friends, family, work, school, culture. We will all probably feel some disconnect for a period. I just really don’t know how I am going to leave. It is so difficult going to the orphanages and dealing with all of the emotions I don’t want to face, but it’s even harder not being there. Now that I’ve seen it, I can’t go back to old ways. This time when we go home, we won’t be going back, we’ll be going forward.

The connections we are making with these children do not stop here. There are so many ways we can be plugged in from the U.S.: Gifts, letters, pictures, music, supplies, awareness, funraisers. Friday, a talented young dancer, Freshia, told me she had a present for me and came running out with a letter in hand that she had written to me. It was one of the most honest, love and true letters I have ever received. These children are so quick to accept, pray for and open their hearts to people they know very little of, or don’t even know at all. They are so careful and respectful. For example, they love to wear our rings and pass around watches, but even when they borrow something as small as a hair tie, they are sure to return it before we leave. They understand that family is so much greater than blood relations. They have an awareness and a sensitivity for one another and for us that I have never seen before. They are my family and I love them with all of my heart.

What has happened with in the group is also very special. We are all in this together and we really know how to be there for one another. When I am upset it doesn’t go unnoticed and soon there will be someone holding my hand, stroking my hair or listening to me. What we are really going to need from our friends and family when we get back is grace and an open ear. The support we have received has kept us afloat so that we can continue to be carried by the currents that Spirit creates. Thank you for helping us learn when to let go and when to swim.

I’m at the point where I dont know what to say. I start to write and then erase because it is not coming out the way i want it to, but perhaps that is because there are no words to describe what we are going through here. Just like the pictures I took on safari at Amboseli do not do the land, the Masai, the animals, or Mt Kilimanjaro and justice, the way in which i want to describe my recent experiences with the children can not be put into words, at least not right now. Perhaps after I get home and reflect and reflect and reflect some more.

Today started off wonderfully with a walk in Nairobi’s beautiful arboretum. It was very peaceful there and for that peace I am grateful. We then went to Shangilia, this is our third visit, and it was amazing. I played the guitar, we recorded in the studio there, and we played and sang with the children, which is always the best. Also, Eric Wainaina, a Berklee grad and famous musician in Kenya joined us to record and perform for the children, who were in awe that a Kenyan superstar was in their presence.

Tomorrow we are recording early in Eric’s studio and then performing as a group at the Splash festival in a park in Nairobi. About 2,000-3,000 people will be there and I can not wait. It will be very exciting. So, I am going to get some rest before a long day tomorrow and I will write more when I find the words.

Yesterday, we appeared live on Kenya’s biggest television youth talk show - STR 8 UP - The Kenyan Television Network (KTN) became famous for Activism Journalism in the 1990’s and continues to serve a wide viewing audience throughout Kenya. Yesterday was quite surrealistic - the morning we were watching herds of elephants in Amboseli and 4 hours later, we’re in downtown Nairobi in a 16-story high rise, under the glaring lights of a television studio…and it was music therapy and the work that we are doing in the orphanages that brought us there….

Don Rawzi, Music Director at Nyumbani, has paved the way for us to take our work to new levels and visibility. Through his contacts in the music industry, not only are we raising awareness of the benefits of music in health and healing through local media, but we have also been given opportunities to perform and record our original compositions with the children and Eric Wainaina at the Splash Music Festival on Saturday. We will be performing, “Asante Sana”, a song composed by the group and dedicated to, and inspired by Samite Mulondo, Director of Musicians for World Harmony

“We have been blessed with your gracious soul,
Which never stops giving and makes others whole,
Your music is healing and touches the heart,
And though you’ve reached many,
It’s only the start…. Asante sana…” (and it goes on)

The songs that the students are writing flow, freely and with ease - each song has its own history and meaning and is inspired by this beautiful countryside of Africa and the people we are meeting.

Two days ago, some of us visited a manyatta, a Masaai homestead and were given a guided tour by Joel Tumuke, the son of the Chief Elder. Joel who serves as the Principal, Teacher and Headmaster of the Inchurra school invited us to view a lesson in the one-room school house for about 25 children of all ages. We listened to the children’s music and then Claudia taught her “frog” song that has become quite popular with all the children we are working with - this really is about sharing music - the men and the women of the village sang for us and then we sang for them and then we sang together - The Maasai have their distinctive customs and dress quite different from ours, yet we connected on a personal level - jumping, humming and swaying in unison together - people are people no matter where you go.

And musicians are musicians - today at Shangalia, we met members of the Kenyan accapella group, Petamony who sang with us and the children. 3 members of the group have just been accepted to Berklee and they came to the orphanage to meet us. New friends with much to offer… and then there is Isaac Kaguri Kavehere, Vocal Director at Shangalia. He is a composer, arranger and gifted teacher and performer. His original compositions incorporate traditional african melodies with western classical elements. He has graciously shared the scores and has offered to work with us as a group next week before we leave and teach us a Luo Medley in 4 part harmony - “Atiyo Ni Ruodha”. I am awed by each day keeps getting better and better yet harder and harder….

As we drop deeper down in authentic connections with the children, there is great emotional costs. As music therapists, we learn how to build trusting relationships through the music we use and how to set boundaries for ourselves and others. But this is hard - these children are in great need and the natural tendency is to want to ’save’ them.. but we can’t… and we won’t… all we can do is share the gift of music in the moment. Are we making a difference? We have been transformed, but have they? This is where faith, trust and hope steps in…we do believe…