Deep kora from Gabu
LISTEN: (Look at "Listen Tracks")
Night in Gabu drops quickly into the stomach of the earth. The shadows
brush away the red coloured reflection from faces and things and suddenly
we are in the dark, in the void. Birimin den - a kora is playing besides
us.We are still sticky for the heat that has just left us and we are lying on
the carpets, heavily, waiting for someone to offer us one more tea. The
stiffness disappears only when the black night becomes impenetrable and we
hear from the brousse the dull calling of howls, which perhaps is only a
body temporarily inhabited by a busy witch. Something, maybe a rat, was
biting the wood over our roof.
Young men turn on the generator, which slowly starts erupting. It misses
some beats and seems to be turning off but then is starts again. The old
light of a lamp which hangs naked in front of the house suddenly inundates
the courtyard, confining the spirits behind the corners of the houses.
Someone is tuning the kora in the dark. The sound is high, dry and rich of
harmonies that are beyond the spectrum of what is audible. The kora seems
to be made for the night and for the heavy silence of the countryside, to
reunite people and to fight the anxiety that rises like phantoms from the
roots of baobab and mangoe trees.Slowly the air turns opaque. It brings the rivers' humidity, which rises
from the banks and reaches the village like an invisible mist.
Children running after the last amusement are being prepared for the night.
They sleep in three, four of even five per bed and some on the floor.
Perhaps we have subtracted mattresses from them?When all the children are in bed, the koras’ - which in the meantime have
multiplied - start playing together, as if to merge inside a secret
embrace. Insisting riffs, hypnotizing, meditative, and nervous. The
traditional kora with its unexpected sequences pursues without hesitation
over the melody. The tempo becomes uncertain, seems it is sleeping, but it
is my breath that I hear coming from a distant gentle trance.
Gabu's deep koras instruct the crickets, by playing once again and for sure
not for the last time, the same electric and lopsided rhythms and the same
sweet harmonies of the times of Mama Janke Waali.“The energy that pulls people together is called love - sings the jali by
breaking the silence - it means being careful for who you love and for your
friends, for this love means to chose. Na mandi mogoye i kani fassama -
Don't expect to be friends with someone who doesn't like you. "
"When you love a person you accept her for what he/she is and you don't
care about his social status, his way of talking, of looking, of moving and
of walking. This is the meaning of love. To love someone is simply when
you don't want this person to be unwell. "
“At the time of the emperor Sunjata, one would offer always slaves, camels
and horses to griots, but you have given us much more; trust and love. In
life there is nothing more important than love. You are like the sunsun
tree in the forest, he doesn't need water to create its' fruits. “We thank
you from deep in our hearts.”
Listen Tracks
1-2. Djamana (Landing Kanuteh - kora, vocal; Madya Diebate - vocal; Bambi Kanuteh - vocal; Fatoumata Suso - vocal; recorded by Wallai Records in Tambasansang, Gambia, january 2010)
3-4. Chedo (Malang Diebate - kora, vocal; Kedjan Diebate - kora, vocal; Bakari Diebate - percussions, vocal, recorded by Wallai Records in Bolonbalola Darsalam, Casamance, january 2010)
