Unintended Consequences

Tonight was a quiet night on the Parian. After a scrumptious dinner at El Pescador Rojas, an off-the-beaten-track mariscos restaurant (Jon is so good at finding stuff like this searching the web) we dressed up and took ourselves and my violin over there. Last night, we told the Aguilas guys that we would come early so I could play with them before it got busy.

When we got there, one or two of the Aguilas were around, and they said hello. We told them I was ready to play and had my violin. They SEEMED to understand, but then went off to try to drum up business. When they got near our table, having been unsuccessful at getting any takers, we reminded them that I wanted to play, and actually we wanted to hear them anyway. Finally, they called all the guys together, and they seemed excited that I was going to play with them. We started with Jesusita then did both La Negra and the Viva Veracruz medley, which is actually four songs in one. Jon got it all on tape, so I will subject you all to it at some point, no doubt!

When we met these guys the first night, we were struck by how lackluster their playing was and how tired and old they all seemed. Tonight when I played with them, I looked around at their faces, and I swear they were beaming. I don't know why it tickles them so to see this old, fat guera playing their songs, but doing so lit a spark under them at least for a little while.

After we finished the songs I know, a man from another table came and wanted me to play something else. I said I didn't know any more songs, but he was willing to pay for any more two songs as long as I played along. So the guys included me in a rousing version of (I thought of you, Susan as we played) Mariachi Loco and a totally new song for me-La Culebra-which means The Snake. We finished playing, and our new friends congratulated me, and shook hands all around. The one violinist hung back to chat again. I guess my violin case is really something, because he wanted to know all about it. Now I realize that Isaiah was also admiring my case. I know now that the Spanish word for case is estuche.

Here's the thing I didn't expect from all this. I DID expect to learn some new music, some things about the life of a working mariachi. But I wasn't prepared for the happiness and wonder my playing brought to the patrons, staff and musicians of the Parian. Each time I have played here, I have heard cheering, and seen waiters stop in their tracks to see what was going on.
I got compliments from several people, and our violin friend told us he loves us, me and Jon. (I have to say here that I could not, would not have done any of this without Jon's constant encouragement, and devotion to the project. He encouraged me to call Raul and when I was too shy, he did it for me. He encouraged me to get this nifty new violin. He has been there with the camera, and the language skills to negotiate the money...oh yes, I paid to play! He looks up new songs on Rhapsody and enjoys hearing them as much as I do. We are truly a team in this!) Even when I played with Raul's band in L.A. I got great crowd response. I'm not sure what to make of it all, but I am deeply moved by it, and it reminds me once again what a powerful unifier music is, and how lucky I am to have it as a way to connect with people.

I like to think, and maybe this is presumptuous of me, that our being here, doing this crazy thing, wanting to play with the mariachis, is something that people will talk about, will be part of the stories the musicians recall and tell. "Remember that crazy old white lady who came and knew three songs, and wanted to play them every night with us?" Maybe tonight when their wives ask "how was work?" they will have a funny little story to tell. I know these are stories I will tell. Thanks for reading!