Tidal waves

Another hugely long drive to Portland - the drive seems to have gotten longer - I got in too late to join in on Donna's dance class. Also found out on the way there that my housing plan & back-up housing plan and back-up back-up housing plan were all not going to work out. So, no bed tonight. Bummer.

So I made it to Lions rehearsal in the end and came in to find a weird caixa/repinique ride going on that I could not identify as a samba. I had to walk myself into it by staring at the player's hands and chanting "That's the slap so the downbeat MUST be right after it".... finally I realized that repinique was not accenting the 1 at all. Couldn't quite figure it out... Lions players do tend to use an unusual repinique ride (they use a really pretty version from Jorge that comes back into the center after the 2 and 4), but usually it's not quite like that. Something about it was swinging really oddly. Eventually I joined in with my usual repinique ride, which has a pretty strongly accented 1 like Jorge had drilled into me, but that made everybody jump! There was a weird zinging around the room as everybody tried to adjust to each other - I'd definitely rocked the boat and I don't know if it was in a good way or a bad way or if my swing was bad. Still not sure. Took a few bars for us all to lock in with each other, but eventually we did.

Rehearsal tonight was ok... but I was drained from the long drive, annoyed I'd missed most of Donna's class, and slightly bummed in a way that I could not pin down. I got unnecessarily irritated halfway through rehearsal when another surdo player tried to demonstrate something by leaning forward and staring at the guy he was trying to communicate with, apparently trying to drill his message in by ESP, playing the same part over and over again. But not saying anything.... I'm so literal, I can never understand when people try to teach that way.... I never have any idea what point they're trying to make: Play like this? Don't play like this? Play this loudly? Don't play this loudly? Play with this kind of dancing? Play leaning forward? Play with your mallet clenched like this? Play with your eyes wide open? I eventually figured out that he was trying to say "The segunda player is not hitting the syncopated beats correctly" but he never actually SAID that. He's the kind of teacher who teaches by metaphor - "Ya gotta FEEL it" kind of thing - whereas I am much more a "You're hitting the 3 slightly late" kind of communicator. oh well, I was just too tired to grasp the metaphors tonight.

Was discouraged again later to discover the Lions don't play any samba-reggae - damn, that stuff's fun! Was SERIOUSLY bummed about it, in fact. no reggae? none???? not even a little bit? But later I heard that they actually have about a zillion samba-reggaes; they've just fallen out of commission because of that classic instrument-switch problem: what do you do with all the tamborim and bell players? You can try to shift 'em to timbal and shekere, except, unfortunately, both those instruments have a pretty massive learning curve of their own. Dang. That IS a tricky problem.

At the end of rehearsal I asked if anybody had a sofa that I could sleep on. I had, in my idiotically optimistic way, just assumed somebody would jump forward to help me out. But there was a disheartening moment when nobody offered, and I faced the dismal prospect of sleeping in my car again. I was a little hurt & baffled since I know I'd have immediately, instantly offered to house any Lion who was stranded in Seattle. Moments like that make me realize, all over again, that I seem to have a completely bizarre idea of how friendship works - I always seem to both offer more, and expect more, than other Americans do. (I am told by Turks that I have an innately Turkish sense of friendship.) It was stupid of me to have just sprung that request out of the blue and expected someone to come forward.

But, a few moments later, both Blake & Brian came up to offer! How kind of them! All by themselves they redeemed the evening. I ended up crashing on Brian's futon (I've always wanted to see Blake's sheep, but he lives quite a ways out). And Brian turned to have a full music studio that had me drooling over its 32-channel mixer and double drumsets. I slept in the room with the mixer! And I got to eavesdrop on an editing session for a way cool hour-long radio show.

Woke later out of a vividly frightening nightmare of being trapped with a bunch of Lions in a small seaside house that was being pummeled by a series of tidal waves. First i just noticed that people outside were drowning, and I was going to go rescue them, but then realized a tidal wave was coming and that I couldn't rescue them. It was terrible to watch them being drowned. Then one after another the waves hit - each one higher than the last. I thought I was safe in the house at first, huddled in there with all the Lions, but finally the huge waves started reaching the house, and finally I decided I'd have to abandon the house and dash for the hills.

I am not sure what this dream meant but it was a doozy. I am suddenly feeling unsure if my potential home here in Portland, with the Lions, is going to end up being as vulnerable and storm-battered and temporary as all my other temporary homes.