Jonathan Field - Maker of Random Stuff

I’m not out of bed until 11AM, which is a new record. It’s Sunday, and since we’re not going to be visiting Zenzo’s church, I’ve got nothing to do. Until the Dundee Voices of Joy reunion tonight, at least.

I go to the kitchen and decide to make some coffee. The backpacker’s kitchen has free instant coffee, sugar, and milk. I haven’t made any yet, in fact haven’t had any coffee since I left the US. I’m in the mood, so I give it a shot. They have one of those electric pots on the countertop, and it is amazingly efficient, boiling the water in what couldn’t be more than 30 seconds. I mix in the freeze-dried granules, a touch of sugar and a generous dose of milk. It’s not great, but it does the trick.

I sit down and write a lot, catching up on two days’ worth. At the end of the day if I don’t have the energy to write everything up, I just do quick bullet points so I can trigger my memory later. Then I fill in. That’s part of why the delay in posting is important, so I can keep posting daily even if I fall behind. Plus I reread them a week later before posting which gives me a chance to fix errors on things I’ve since learned.

I don’t realize until noon that it’s April Fool’s Day. I briefly consider posting some absurd story to the blog. But I decide it takes too much energy and I’m just not much of an April Fool’s person anyways. Much like St. Patty’s day, this American tradition doesn’t get much airtime over here.

Since I spent so much of my time writing today, there’s not much to write about today itself. If that makes sense. But here are some random things I’ve been thinking about:

Sleep. Anyone who knows me well knows I’m a big fan of sleep. I avoid alarm clocks like the plague. Of course, like the plague, I can’t always avoid alarm clocks. But in my nearly seven years at Zappos, I probably used an alarm clock fewer than 100 times. That was one of my favorite job perks: lack of alarm clock. I’m not counting 2AM phone calls when the servers crashed as an alarm clock. That was not one of my favorite job perks.

A good friend once said “you know, if you don’t get enough sleep, it’s not like you’re going to look back on your death bed and say ‘I wish I had slept more’”. “No,” I said, “but I very well might say ‘I wish I spent my waking hours less tired’.”

I heard once on some Discovery channel thing about sleep that people backlog missed sleep. If you’re running without enough sleep, you build up a debt. And if you are then allowed to sleep as long as you want each night, your body will take a little extra sleep until it’s paid off the debt, and then you’ll normalize back to around 8 hours eventually.

I don’t think I usually have a sleep debt, but I did build one up in the months before my trip: a combination of alarm clocks and insomnia. The insomnia is gone since I’ve been here in South Africa. However I have been using alarm clocks on working days, and oftentimes getting a little less than 8 hours. So I let myself sleep as long as I want on the weekends, and I don’t feel guilty about missing out on experiences, because I want to be as awake as possible. And I seem to be getting about a one and a half brainfulls of experience each day anyways.

In fact, I’m looking forward to catching up on sleep this upcoming week. The next two weeks are school vacation week. I want to see if I can get to the point where my body only takes 8 hours. Right now it’s taking about 10. (As I write this it’s actually just after midnight and I have to get up at seven, so I’m not making as much progress as I’d like.)

But back to documenting the day:

I manage to while my time away between reading (still “The Wisdom of Crowds”), writing, guitar playing, and a little exercise. Suddenly it’s 5PM and we’re supposed to be at the Dundee Voices Of Joy gathering. I grab my guitar and head over to the trailer in a rush.

When I get there Alan and Donna are also in a rush, getting the refreshments together and packing up the car. We decide to take my car, simply because I’ve pulled in back of them, we transfer the goods and head over to Sibongile.

As we pull up to the house, there are several cars parked in the street being washed and waxed. One of them is a very nice BMW. It is an interesting contrast to see the nice cars being meticulously maintained alongside the low-income houses that could in many cases use a coat of paint, or more. One of the cars has a nice stereo system, and some smooth hip hop is playing, filling the air with a certain cool vibe.

We’re the first to arrive, and we say “hi” to the fellow who is hosting the party. We bring the food goods into his kitchen, and set them down. When I was here a couple days ago I looked for a sink as I passed through. I look again and still don’t see one. But the house is homey and comfortable. The owner is one of the members of Dundee Voices of Joy. He is crossing guard. Another member soon arrives, he works for the water department.

Next is Lucky, who I’ve met before. He arrives smiling, carrying a large musical keyboard under one arm and a rifle on his shoulder. Alan asks him what the rifle is for and he replies with a laugh “I borrowed this keyboard and I don’t want anyone else taking it.” Alan laughs, “you’re joking, right?” Lucky just laughs and goes inside. I notice it’s just an air pellet gun, not an actual rifle. I bring in my guitar and the last fellow arrives, a local traffic cop. I am told a lady was supposed to be coming too, but we begin without her. Begin, as in, sit down and hang out.

These folks are all my age. Alan and Donna have known them on and off for a decade now. They trade stories and reminisce about the old times. They look at old pictures while Lucky noodles a bit on the keyboard. He uses the built in rhythms and such, creating a full sound. He also has a killer smile.

At some point in the conversation, out of nowhere, some singing starts. They do a Ladysmith Black Mambazo song, and then some stuff that they used to do in the old days. Alan and Donna offer some of the songs that their chorus did. They all sound great. I join in on the simple parts. Lucky gets very excited about it, “wow, I can hear all the harmonies!” He feels some of the old magic, I think.

Lucky is a very accomplished musician; the kind that can hear a few notes of an unfamiliar melody and instantly come up with great sounding accompaniment that anticipates all the changes. I knew he worked on cruise ships, but I didn’t know what he did on those cruise ships. Turns out he was the entertainment: he’d play each night in the lounge. He’s done the Caribbean and the Mediterranean mostly. He’s definitely got a more worldly attitude that many people here. He’s a small guy, but he’s big.

I sit back and enjoy the music for a while. Then it comes up that I have my guitar, so I break it out. I tell them that the wonderful folks at work got me the guitar as a going away gift. I put on the capo and, since it’s still my favorite song, I play a verse of “Follow You Into the Dark”. Hey, maybe it’s the same old thing, but it’s either that or “Eye of the Tiger”. Lucky actually joins in on the song with a little percussion, it changes the groove and actually sounds pretty good.

Then he and I jam a bit as the other chat. We play some blues; he’s also a good lead player on the keys. After a good run I tell him “I like your style”. “I like your style too,” he replies.

While they get the where-are-they-now stories sorted out, I hang back and play some gentle background music. I feel very relaxed and warmed by the camaraderie in the room. Then we have bologna sandwiches and soda.

They all agree that the trip was an amazing opportunity — most big South African groups don’t ever get to go to the US to tour. And though ultimately they didn’t make enough money, it was a once in a lifetime experience. They laugh now when they see the photo album is labeled “Dundee Voices of Joy: First US Tour”. A sense of youthful dreaminess catches in their eyes.

Eventually one of the ladies comes by, but she is very shy. She says she doesn’t sing any more; hasn’t in years. We do a couple songs with her, but she sings so softly I can’t hear the addition.

A Jackie Chan movie is on in the background on TV as we talk some more. The topic of renaming towns comes up; there’s a push to do so. To replace the European names with Zulu names. Lucky takes a practical view: “if there was a Zulu village that was renamed by the Europeans, put it back. But if it’s a city that the Europeans created, leave it as it is.” For example, he says, Dundee wasn’t a city until the Europeans founded it, so he doesn’t see the point in changing the name to something Zulu.

I again sense he finds some of the perceptions of Africans to be annoying. He jokes at one point “the next time I tell someone my name is Lucky, and they ask me what my African name is, I’m going to say Xqqx!” It’s just a series of four clicks. They talk about how when they were in Boston, they noticed on the subway that people seemed very interested in their talking, and that it was related to the clicks. So they started adding in extra clicks where there weren’t any just to put on a show.

As things wind down, Lucky plays a few classics, “Wonderful Tonight” and “Piano Man”. I play and sing along as best I can. Then they finish off with another choral song from the old days, and we pack up the instruments and head out.

As we are heading out, Alan asks Lucky again what the gun is for. He says “it’s just an airgun, but it’ll hurt, and it can break the skin.” He lives near the edge of town, with open land to the back of his place. He says there are people who come into the yard, and he comes out with that to chase them away.

Big hugs all around, and a promise to see each other again before we leave. Lucky asks if I think it would be hard for him to learn guitar; I tell him no, not with his musical understanding. He takes my number and says he’ll try to call this week so we can get together. It’s about 10PM at this point, and as we drive back to the trailer, we all agree the night was a great success.