15 people, me, 14 hours, and the back of a Toyota

9/13/07
IMORONA, MADAGASCAR – Dear Ben, I got in to this small village this morning after riding for a total of 14 hours in the back of a pickup truck, on a sideways wooden bench, crammed next to 15 other people. It was crazy. We were so close together, our arms were thatched together like palm fronds on a mat. Our feet and legs were like tangled tree roots. All the while, the truck is jerking back and forth with the force of an old wooden rollercoaster. We were driving so slow. Bicycles were seriously passing us because the roads were so bad. They looked like this: (insert craggy line here). The back of the truck was covered with a metal cage and a green tarp, to protect us from the rain. That was nice, but it also made the space fill up with exhaust as the truck heaved its way through muddy red ruts as deep as my thighs. It was worth it though, for one reason – the music. Just as I would think I was going to puke on/kill everyone around me, my fellow passengers would start singing. I couldn’t understand a word, but the soulful harmonies lifted me right off of that bruising seat and put me somewhere wonderful, a place where I could see the magnificent beaches and misty mountains on our path. A place where the ocean breeze snuffed out the tail pipe fumes. The world is terribly unfair sometimes, and we should do everything we can to change that, but the power people have to life themselves out of shitty situations, if only in mind, is truly amazing. Love, John

Julio-So, I didn't cop out. I tried to learn the salsa in a local club called Riki's, where one of the surviving members of the disbanded Buena Vista Social Club, Ignacio "Nachito" Herrera, plays a quick set every Wednesday night. Usually late, always unexected, he might show up, he might not. I've caught him a couple of times (me and my friend Amy have become his official "groupies") but last night he jammed for three hours and I totally forgot about learning salsa, grabbed my camera, and just tried to capture the energy in the room. At some point, everyone forgot they were in a restaurant, put the chairs aside, and just danced. I didn't want to use my flash, I felt it would somehow alter the mood, but now I'm really glad I didn't. These abstractions capture it completely and I'm blown away to realize that if someone asked me to describe the salsa for them, i probably couldn't. but i would show them these. su amiga gringa, Jessie

Ignacio "Nachito" Herrera jams and yes, he's just as cool in person...

M'Boutha Muppets in Madagascar

[8/19/07 Dear Joe, I went up to Tana’s (relatively) ritzy northern suburbs last night to see a percussion and reggae band called M’Boutha. The music was pretty good, and it is nice to realize that people here like something besides Shania Twain and Kelly Clarkson, but my favorite part was watching the main drummer, whose shaggy hair and tripped-out swaying reminded me of a cross between Janice and the French Chef from the Muppets. And, in the face, he looked like Jimmy Hendrix … and, in a very understated way, he was wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt. I love a good character. Sometimes, to cope with people I find annoying or don’t understand, I turn them into cartoons in my head. That way, they are entertaining – fun, original pieces of life – not irritating. But there was no need to caricature this drummer. Hair flopping in his face, cigarette dangling from his lower lip, eyes wandering aimlessly. He should really go solo. –John]

Johnny Cash in Hell-Ville

[8/2/07 NOSY BE, MADAGASCAR – Dear Bzdega, I arrived on Madagascar’s Big Island last night. Right now, I’m sitting in a café in the largest city here, which, no joke, is called Hell-Ville. Really. The founder was named Admiral de Hell. Anyway, I thought of you because of the sounds I hear around me: revving engines of motorcycles, French conversations I barely understand and the sweet, sweet, familiar voice of Johnny Cash, floating across the street from an orange building with palm trees in front of it. This card will be in my pocket all day. Hopefully it will be with me as I find some interesting animals – maybe a lemur. Best of luck in frozen Michigan. – SUTTER]

band practice in my loft

[dear dave: when you've got soul -- and a sweet pair of glasses on your head -- it doesn't matter whether or not your band can "play songs." -john, a former member of side abrazhum]