An exchange of virtues

I had a socio-musical epiphany over winter break. And with spring break rapidly approaching, I feel it is now an appropriate time to share this insight. Unlike most of my realizations, which usually occur in the bathroom, this one came to me under slightly different circumstances. I believe it hit me approximately five minutes after I got off the ship in Jamaica on the last day of the year 2002. As Americans, we are truly out of our element in most foreign countries. To put it bluntly, we are often parodies of ourselves when surrounded by these environments. Musically, we are even more inept, for often we fail to realize how useful a tool music can be. \nFor those who have not been to this particular island and have no clue what I'm about to say, imagine this scenario. I was approached by a taxi driver who, upon asking me if I wanted a lift around the island, also asked whether or not I liked Bob Marley with a wryness that only a carnival worker could truly appreciate. Seconds later, a similar man asked a similar question.This process continued until we reached the end of the pier, or gauntlet, as my comrades and I affectionately dubbed the walkway that bridged us with reality. Looking back, I saw that nearly everyone getting off the boat was dealing with the same people and offers as we had dealt. \nThe average conservative American would scoff at these businessmen for their persistent mongering, many would even become upset at the sight. Spotting an American in Jamaica is like seeing Miles Davis in the front row of a Sex Pistols concert. Flower print shirts, cargo shorts, Hard Rock Cafe, (your university here) t-shirts all permeate the vacation culture of Americans. We'll even buy goods at 300% mark-ups, which is still better than you can get at home. Often, we will consciously or unwittingly allow ourselves to be ripped off and think nothing of it. \nEventually I found myself in a marketplace. A man selling djembes, congas and other percussion instruments implored me to sample his goods. I picked up a drum and started the steadiest beat that a man without formal percussion skills can muster, and the merchant laughed as I asked him to accompany me. We got a kick out of each other as many others looked on in amazement, watching a tourist and a native play drums together. \nA friend once told me that you can go anywhere in the world with a hand drum and connect with someone via that instrument. Think of it as an exchange of virtues. They show us something and we give back (monetarily in many cases). But whether money is involved or not, there is something about the ineffable joy of creating music with a complete stranger that heightens the sense of musical appreciation in the individual. That alone is a virtue in and of itself. \nYes, we are walking caricatures of ourselves when on vacations, sticking out like sore thumbs wherever we go and opening ourselves up to the jokers and hustlers of the world. Is that detestable? In a single word, the answer is no. Frankly, I revel in the thought of being a parody of myself. Music has the ability to be a great equalizer between what is fake and what is real. The Rolling Stones are walking parodies, soon to be parodies in wheelchairs, but their music is timeless. It's important that we remember that fact, despite our constant complaints about the validity of popular music, the rock and roll apocalypse and so on. Wherever you are on spring break, remember that before you hit the beer slide at Carlos and Charlies.