500 words on the djembe

The sun sets over the sand with the birds returning from their early evening hunt. The air smells damp, with a blend of dust, patchouli, and sweat. A pack of men and women gather in the distance, their shadows dancing before the setting sun. And then the rhythm begins to form, the constant patter and mixed thuds of man’s palm on taut animal hide. The men and women, of different backgrounds, careers, regions, begin to move together bringing the thumping, tapping, pounding of the circle to crescendo. I stand in the distance, a silent observer, smiling and knowing that I will be back.

Many sunsets of my college years were spent as a quiet witness to the Venice Beach drum circle. I discovered my first one just weeks into my freshman year, while on my bike rushing to get home before dark. The beat of the djembe would distract me, calling out to me. For the next four years, I’d hop the bus or park my car in a nearly impossible-to-find space and sneak to the shore to witness the drum circle.

Many of the drummers, the manipulators of sound, appeared the part perfectly: tight fitting but raggy jeans beneath a shirtless chest with dreads and dirt as a crown – regardless of race – or a flowing and shapeless pattern-printed dress covering a tattoo-speckled body. But some would surprise you: Men with ties lose around their neck coming straight from the office or women slipping off a pair of heels before crossing the sandy beach. They all had one thing in common and that was a desire, perhaps a need, to be part of a group and surrender to music.

In the 2008 award-winning film, “The Visitor”, Richard Jenkins plays the role of the outsider, a middle-aged white man mesmerized by the djembe. The instrument builds a bridge between two men from across the globe and demonstrates the impossible power of human connection and the adhesive of music.

I’ve never held a djembe, but I know that my hands would naturally wrap around its curves with my fingertips gracefully bouncing with each beat. I think many people feel this way about the djembe. After all it has attracted civilizations across the globe. It was not invented nor discovered in the gritty and artistic community of Venice Beach.

And for that moment, when my eyes close and I feel like I am alone despite the line of people on each side of me and meeting across from me, I will transport across the planet and through time to be part of a people for whom life is hard but with its rewards.

That is what brings these people together on the beach. It’s the music and the beat. The sound as it rises from its acoustic base in the sand calling out to others. We yearn to belong to something, with a voiceless mob and the djembe calling out to us individually and as a whole, feeding our ears, minds, and souls.


Source: www.drumsontheweb.com