We are One

As interesting as the concert replete with West African superstars was in Central Park last weekend, even more interesting was the 'friend' I made while on my journey that day.

I must put my kickstand down here for a moment....... my BFK is ALWAYS riding me for my liberal application of the moninker 'friend' to strange people that I meet and seem to find myself engrossed in conversation. Be it the rasta who proposed marriage after an hour of conversaion on the beach in Negril or the Hassidic attorney who stopped to ask my advice on furnishings for her office- who ended up inviting me to lunch- for some reason, I am always drawn to folks and vise versa - from all walks of life- with whom I so easily fall into conversation. I have been told that I am easy to talk to and that I seem trustworthy and that is why people talk to and confide in me. (We previously discussed my early onset dimensia which makes it pretty damn difficult for me to gossip and tell people's busisness when I can't even remember what they told me begin with!) Whatever the reason, I just accept it as a fact of my life that I tend to make 'friends' where ever I go. Not bad for a self- proclaimed anti-socialist (is that a word?....red pen down! Keep writing crazy lady)That being said, let's ride.

There was one particulary charming lad I met last weekend in Central Park...lets call him Daniel. Daniel could not have been a day over 22 and he had all the innocense, vitality and lack of 'I have been hurt to many times to talk to strangersness' that many folks have these days. Our exchange began when he and a friend came and sat behind me on the bleachers in Central Park. I will admitt, they were so light and breezy and cool-I initially thought they were up to something. I found it interesting that such young lads (who, if at all, were several generations removed from the mother land) would be so excited to be at such a venue. So as it turns out, only one of them was excited, but he had brought his friend along to the show to attempt to expose him to the sounds of world music.

Our exchange began when I asked the two of them to hold my seat for me-to which my 'friend' Daniel gleefully, and I do mean gleafully replied "Certainly". When I returned and thanked him, he chirped " absolutely, any time". Fast forward, Daniel's compadre was friend was called away by another engagement and then there was Daniel. After a while he just leaned forward and asked me which performer I was there to see. I told him how I was just there killing time after my sewing before I headed back over to Brooklyn for a old school hip-hop show in Prospect Park (which I never made it to). Side bar.... This would be the time when my BFK would tell me that I talk too much and should not be telling strangers all my business! But, I think I am a pretty good judge of character and only open up when the spirit moves me to do....it moved me with Daniel.

So, from there, Daniel begins to tell me about who he is there to see..... a West African performer named Vieux Farka Toure www.myspace.com/vieuxfarkatoure. For the next hour I recieved lessons on the world of world music at the feet, litterally, of a one young Panamanian Muslim named Daniel. He told me how Vieux learned much of his craft from his father, a one Ali Farka- the king of Mali desert blues Daniel said.

With the brightest smile you can imagine, Daniel also shared with me info on his Panamania background, his journey to Islam, his desire to travel the world and mostly his love of music. He told me of his growing dissenchantment with hip-hop (to look at him wave capped down, custom air force ones poppin' u could not tell) He confided that most of his friends do not share similar tastes in music and to prove it.....He offered me his earbuds.

DJ come back selecta.....rewind! Yes, a totall stranger offered me his earbuds. But in that moment - to have rejected his offer would have been akin to not sampling your Italian fiance's grandma's homemade gravy when Tati Angela offered during your first visit to her house in Sicily. There are just some things you don't do. So, I took the buds.....I put them both as close to one ear as I could to hear the music coming from his IPOD without actually making ear to bud contact. And boy am I glad I did. I fancy myself a music afficianado - having heard at least a sampling of most musical forms. However, Danniel from Bed Stuy opened my eyes to a whole new world of World music. He even played me some of his own beats that he had looped and sampled while stating how he would trade all of his DJ'ing prowess in for an ability to actually play an instrument.

On some levels, our conversation reminded me of a scene in Beat Street where Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis' son takes his crew to meet and breakdance for Harry Belafonte's daughter's modern ballet troup. Daniel passioinately spoke of instruments I had never heard of from India, performers I had never heard of from South Africa and played types of music from ALL OVER THE WORLD through those little earbuds that I had never ever heard. Whatever germs I contracted from my man Dan I believe to have been well worth the knowledge gained.

To the backdrop of some serious West African tunes, Daniel and I endured two rain storms talking that afternoon. It was after talking to Daniel, and before the next rain storm, that I decided to throw in the towel on my next set of concert plans in Brooklyn that evening. I was just so full after speaking with him that I did not want to ruin the experience by "over eating". I had obviously gotten what I had come to the city for that day....no need to be greedy.

As I walked the seeming 75 NYC blocks back to my car (slight exaggeration), I did not beat the third rain storm. As Harpo experienced in the Color Purple, It rained on my head. While other people saught shelther under awnings, I kept walking. I was enjoying the freedom, the water, the cool refreshment of it all. Doormen nodded politely but mostly everyone else just stared as I quickly became the one and only contestant in an impromptu wet t-shirt contest unfolding in a thunderstorm on Central Park West. But I was unfazed.

I was happy that I had yet again followed my instincts and allowed myself to get close to a would be stranger, had allowed him to become a 'friend' even if just for a little while and had conversed with him as if we had known each other for years. Who knows how I touched his life that day, the ways he touched mine are evidenced by even writing to you about it today and so he indirectly has touched you to.

See, I believe, that is really how it works ya'll. Franky Beverly told us and I believe it to be true....We are one. The only thing that really seperates us one from another are the artificial constructs of race, gender,sexuality,SES,religion, shoe size etc. etc. which we allow to do so. Yes, in this day you do have to watch your back and or exercise a fair degree of caution in your dealings with strangers. However, having done our due dilligence, we have to begin to let each other in. We have to begin to realize that our relationships are not at all about our dealings with other people as much as they are about our dealings with ourselves and our creator. Think about that the next time someone tries to strike up a conversation with you....remember that we are one,try laying those swords and shields down by the riverside and you just might make a 'friend.'