Berber Banjo!

Back during the first few months in my site, I made a trek up to Agadir and bought myself a banjo.  The thought process that led to this development was not too long, but it meandered a bit.  I missed music and I thought learning a new instrument would be a perfect way to fill the hours and add a new element to my relatively simple (and yet, not simple at all) life.  From there, I realized that the best sort of instrument to pick would be one that Moroccans use to express their own particular music.  The banjo certainly doesn’t figure in the spectrum of traditional Moroccan instruments, but there are some North African instruments that are related to the banjo, notably the lotar.  For a little while I couldn’t make my mind up.  Get a real native instrument that might take much longer than two years to learn well, or something a bit less foreign…?

One day, my mind was fairly well made up for me.  While attending another Volunteer’s presentation at a local school, I found myself rather hypnotized by a boy who pulled a banjo from nowhere and began playing Tashlheit songs.  But not only did he play these songs, the entire room of students filled up with singing and clapping.

My Berber banjo inspiration.

It was perfect.  I realized the potential for not only fulfilling my personal desire to play music, but the equally exciting prospect for cultural interaction and exchange.  Here was a way to engage with the children of the Souss, a possibility for easing my inevitable future attempts to work in the schools.  If I could share their culture with them in such an active way, maybe we could feel more comfortable communicating positively.  (Can you tell, I’m scared of having to deal with kids?)

But the cultural possibilities don’t stop there.  The banjo seems like such a perfect choice also because it’s a natural bridge to American culture.  I imagine it would be easier for some people back home to accept and appreciate the Berber music I hope so much to learn and share, when that music comes through on an instrument that is a little more familiar.

And there I was, after that fateful afternoon, on a mission.  To find a teacher and to find a banjo. 

Somehow I managed to find a teacher without too much effort, alhamdulillah.  Not only is he a music teacher, but he is the manager of a big-time Soussi banjo player who works out of Agadir.  He knows some English, though not very well, so our lessons are typically in an interesting mix of languages.

The banjo came after a somewhat complicated but relatively short quest up in the big city of Agadir.  I am, of course, in love with my banjo.  Given my adoration, I hope to buy a second one, cheaper and used, that I wouldn’t mind letting take a few bangs (taxi travel is not so nice to instruments, you know) and maybe even letting students play.

Well, having gotten my instrument and found a teacher, I got to work on lessons.  Music doesn’t come all that easily to me.  It takes quite a bit of work and time.  Time, actually, is one of my biggest problems: I can’t keep a tempo to save my life and rhythms usually throw me for a bit of a loop.  I’ve made some progress over the years, but not enough.  That aside, though, things are going well enough to make me happy.  I’m enjoying myself and learning, imik s-imik.

The music I’m learning is referred to as tazenzart.  The group that pioneered this genre is Izenzarn, who really got rolling in the early 1970′s.  Interestingly enough, afro-like hairstyles adorn the covers of several of the albums I’ve bought.  The music of Izenzarn and their contemporaries is all fairly dynamic and not exactly traditional in its themes, but it flows throughout the Souss.  Taxis and buses quite often rumble along the long roads to the banjo beats of musicians like Izenzarn, Oudaden, and Inrzaf.

I hope to post some clips of tazenzart here, both real performers and maybe even a few clips of my own (sometime in the far far future).  For now, I just have a picture of an early-morning practice session with accompaniment.

Practicing my beautiful banjo with the company of Hanneke's cat, Olivia.