Introducing Mouhsine Khadira, Woodcarver Extraordinaire

One of my woodcarvers at the Sefrou Artisana finally agreed to have some of his work showcased to a wider audience. He is little apprehensive about publicizing his work out of fear that others could copy his ideas. I find that some of his work is so unique that it would be very difficult for someone to be able to do that, but according to Mouhsine, he has seen it happen with frequency.  He said that he'll go to an artisana expo one year and then see some of his models replicated by other woodcarvers the following year.

Mouhsine is one of the most chill individuals I know. I enjoyed hanging out with him, drinking tea with him in his boutique, and just talking about anything that came to mind.  From my travels through Morocco, I would have to say that out of the countless thuya-woodcarving shops I walked in and out of in Essaouira, one of the biggest woodcarving centers, his creativity and attention to detail are unparalleled. I have had the chance to watch him create a piece from conception. His careful planning and solid execution are admirable.

Mouhsine finally allowed me to post some of his materials because he would like one day to travel abroad to other woodcarving or contemporary art expos. Off the top of my head, I don't know of any expos in the U.S. or in Europe that would welcome his work. If you do, please send them my way. Like many artisans in Morocco, much of their amazing work goes unnoticed. We hope this site will get Mouhsine a little attention, which will hopefully lead to more opportunities in the near future.


The site was created with the intent to promote his work and not necessarily to sell (an e-portfolio of sorts); however, if you're interested in purchasing one of his sculptures, you can contact him directly if you speak French or Arabic or visit his boutique at the Ensemble Artisanal Bab El Mkam in Sefrou.  For more info, please click on the Contactez-moi page .

At the moment, he does not have a catalogue available.  Some of the pieces in Mes Sculptures have names.  You could use those names to inquire about a price.  If you'd like to have an item shipped,   DHL and FedEx service is available, but they run about 750DH a kilo or nearly $100 p/kilo.  Poste Maroc, the national postal service, is fairly reliable and will run about a third of what DHL and FedEx would cost you, but will take 2-3 weeks time to deliver anything and there have been instances where the delivery never arrives at its destination.  For a list of their rates, please visit and search under the "Vos Envois des Messagerie" @ http://www.bam.net.ma


http://www.wix.com/khadira/sculptures

Free website - Powered By Wix.com

P.S. I copied and pasted most of the text on the site from an old brochure that the previous Sefrou PCV made for Mouhsine.  My French is such that I can understand what the brochure is saying, but I can't tell you if it's grammatically correct.  For all you native French speakers, if you see something out of place, please let me know.  I and Mouhsine will be extremely grateful and as we say in Morocco for all good deeds done out of the kindness of your heart, llah yrHm l-walidin (May God bless your parents).

Traversing the South: Tinejdad, Tinghir, and the Todra Gorge

It's amazing how even within the same country just 8 or so hours away from my site that the surroundings can be so remarkably different.  In some places you feel as if you were walking on the Red Planet.  The people also dress a little differently and speak a completely different language.  It almost felt like I was starting my Peace Corps tour all over again.


View Larger Map

After the camel ride to the desert and back, I continued my journey by grand taxi from Errachidia going east to Tinejdad, another oasis village with a stunning mud ksar, lots of small vegetable, fruit, and wheat and corn plots, and palm trees all bordering the winter rain stream that snakes through town.  The mud ksar is like a little mud piste fortress castle with corner towers with beautiful overlooks molded in classical Amazigh form.  Like the mud piste castle out in the middle of the desert, this ksar was also a good 20 degrees cooler.

Tinejdad Laizars

Tinejdad is not shy about its Berber/Amazigh history.  As I walked up to and through the ksar, the free-man Amazigh insignia was proudly displayed on the ksar walls.  The Amazigh pride symbols could also be seen in the laizars that the women wore.  These thin sheets of fabric that women wrap around themselves on top of their djellaba or niqab had all sorts Amazigh designs in bright neon threading over usually a black cloth.  As far as language, about 45 or so minutes before I arrived in Tinejdad, I was speaking Darija with folks in Errachidia, but in Tinejdad, you best be ready to bust out some Tashelheit - another Amazigh/Berber dialect.  Darija is spoken, but I got the feeling that it's mainly done to appease the passersby.   Right next to the ksar, I saw some signs for some swanky looking maison d'hôtes and there were plenty of restaurants on the main road.  I think if I was looking for a nice pit stop before heading to the desert, Tinejdad would be at the top of my list.

Tinghir Kasbah

From Tinejdad, the next stop was Tinghir and the magnificent Todra Gorge.  The sight of mud villages on the fringes of the palmeries sprouting from the Todra River against the backdrop of a dry, barren, and rocky mountainside is something that is indelibly imprinted in my mind.

It is so different from anything I had ever seen.
From Tinghir, we took a grand taxi to the Todra Gorge.  We walked around a bit, hiked up the road some, and then headed back.  The Todra Gorge is essentially a narrow passageway carved out of a mountain plateau by the Todra River over a millenia.

Todra Gorge Entrance

It's another one of those natural wonders where the sheer size of it makes one feel like an insignificant blip in the space of time.  I like this feeling.  As I stare at layer upon layer of rock and sediment dating back to who knows when, my preoccupations of daily life seem to wither away and I think to myself how silly it is to be worrying about leaving a legacy or something for people to remember me by.

I was encouraged by the bit of farming at the base of the gorge.  The green stood out in such contrast to everything around it.  I also found an interesting flower that I think depicts the area well.  This spiny, thorny flower is not really inviting; in fact, it's a little harsh and hostile, but nonetheless it's beautiful to look at.

More pictures and stories about the rest of the trip on the next blog.

Trip Essentials:

Lodging
We camped out the night at the Todra River Valley amongst the palm trees in a campsite right on the edge of the river stream.  We stayed at the Camping l'Auberge Atlas (ph: 212-524-89-50-46).  It was 100DH for their basic room.  They also had ponjs out in the terrace for 30DH.

Food
Dinner can be expensive.  Clarify the pricing before ordering especially if you order the tagine special.  We ordered the special thinking that the 60DH covered the entire tagine; when in fact, it was 60DH per person. Ouch!  The place was no hole in the wall.  The food was delicious and had a cool ambiance.  The whole road from Tinghir to the Todra Gorge is replete with hotels and restaurants catering to foreign tourists.  You have a lot of choice so use it to your advantage when bargaining.

Transpo:

Once again, CTM bus service is available leaving out of Errachidia, Marrakech, Ouarzazate, and other locations.  By grand taxi, I think I averaged about 25DH per leg from one town to another.

Traversing Morocco's South: "There Is No Paradise Without the Desert"

The other day I was watching an interesting interview on Riz Khan's One on One program that airs on Al-Jazzera English. The guest on the show was Nacer Khemir, a famous Tunisian cinematographer and writer. In the interview, he spoke about the importance of the desert in Arab culture.  He said that without the desert, there would be no paradise and "this quest for paradise is the true essence of Islam." He added that Arab civilizations are "constructed around a void." He pointed out that The Kaaba in Mecca, considered to be the center of the universe for Muslims, is an empty cube, good calligraphy is judged by the void, not the full, the desert is often described as both full and empty, and lastly he said that the word for the number zero also means empty, which explains why some people shout a number of obscenities at me from time to time and then finish by uttering the number zero. He tied it all in by saying, "It's the creation of emptiness inside you so that something can come. And if this emptiness is essential, the Divine arrives." See the full length interview below in which he also speaks of other challenges facing Arab culture and identity and Sufism. He provides a wealth of insight in just 20 minutes.



As I write this blog about my travels through the vast, sun-scorched wilderness of the south of Morocco, I can't help but think of some of the imagery Khemir mentioned.  I often wonder if the Holy Scriptures would have been significantly different if the prophets and apostles had lived in the tropical rainforests of my native Venezuela.  Would Moses have relayed the message to the Children of Israel about going to a 'land of milk and honey' if say they were already enjoying sweet and tangy pineapples, fat and juicy mangoes, mouth-watering papayas, just-like-butta avocados, fun-to-munch-on sugar cane, and getting their fill of the hearty cassava(yuca) and a host of other tropical fruits and veggies?  Would Moses have had to strike a rock if say the Amazon and Orinoco River and their many tributaries were already providing for their water needs?  Would there be so many references in the Qur'an about paradise if say they already lived in one?

Prior to coming to Morocco, I would say that I could sympathize with the Children of Israel, but I couldn't really empathize.  I just didn't have any real context to go by.  Growing up in Venezuela(politics aside), I thought I was already living in the Garden of Eden: lush green and beautiful scenery all around, delicious tropical fruits and veggies available, etc, etc.  When our family moved to the U.S., I lived in areas that were also blessed with frequent rains that kept the lawns and the agricultural fields green, and in Oklahoma and Indiana, deers were literally prancing around in the forest.  I had seen some dunes here and there, but they were mostly isolated patches of sand.  I once traveled through Arizona and Nevada and saw a bit of their deserts.  I was told that the wandering-through-the-wilderness portion of the epic Ten Commandments movie was filmed there, and I can see why they chose that location.  When I drove through, it certainly looked dry, rocky, and devoid of life as some parts of the south of Morocco do.  However, what the Arizona and Nevada deserts don't have is the striking contrast of a lush, green palmerie against the backdrop of a barren, rocky hillside.  Naturally, as you look out your taxi window to allow your mind to escape the cramped and smelly confines you find yourself in, your eyes gravitate to these clusters of green out on the plain, sprouting from a river bed, or wedged in a mountain ravine.  As you reach these oases and palmeries, you do get the urge to say "hamdulillah" (Thanks be to God) or to thank the cosmic forces of the universe for creating this small haven or paradise in the middle of this unbearably hot and hostile terrain.

While traveling through the south of Morocco, I guess you could say that I experienced somewhat of a revelation or better yet a grand clarification.  True, Morocco is really at the fringes of the Sahara and granted I only spent a total of 3 hours on a camel and took a bus to jump from one oasis to another, but I think that even this brief exposure gave me more context than I ever had about the realities and the dynamics at play in a harsh desert environment.

For instance, I can understand why some would be skeptical of people who live out in the desert wilderness and then come to an oasis city yelling that the end is near.  I would have probably handed that person a pitcher of water and then asked, "Now, what was it that you were trying to say?"  Or, I can empathize somewhat with the Children of Israel's reluctance to leave the fertile Nile Delta for a journey through the desert wilderness of the Sinai in order to reach the Promised Land.  I also understand why the Three Kings traveled by night.  They used the stars as their compass, but probably and just as important was their desire to avoid the heat.  I cannot imagine rocking back and forth on a camel in 100 degree plus heat.  Let's just say that after this trip, the stories in The Scriptures began to make a little more sense.

I'm actually heading to Jordan and Egypt after Close-of-Service or as Peace Corps now defines it, "Continuation-of-Service".  Starting November 14, I'm going to be retracing some of the steps Joshua and Moses took in leading the Children of Israel to the Promised Land, but I'm doing it all backwards.  I'm going to Jordan, maybe Israel, and then onto Egypt.  I first thought of going from the land of bondage to the Promised Land, but my frequent flyer miles and flight deals are forcing me to go the opposite way.  Is this a sign?  I should know when I reach Mt. Sinai.

I'm going to be visiting some Jordanian volunteers, crashing some hostels, and couchsurfing some of it.  I hope my Moroccan Arabic will help me get through the trip and allow me to understand a tidbit of what people are saying.  The sites I'm visiting are sites that I have read about ever since I was a kid.  Perhaps, when I arrive at the various sites I will receive another revelation or grand clarification.  Rest assured that if I do, I'll be sure to post it.    

In a future blog, I will expand on the rest of the places I visited on my southern trek with photos, hotel stays, travel tips, and all.  Thanks for reading.

Traversing Morocco's South: Into the Desert

Last Spring, I had the chance to take a week-long excursion through the south of Morocco.  When you visit the south, you get the sense that you're finally in Morocco.  When I left my hometown in April, the temperature was hovering just above 50F.  After a nine hour CTM bus ride from Fes, I arrived in Erfoud early in the morning and immediately began shedding my many layers of clothes to enjoy the balmy 80F weather.  By the time the desert trekking company picked us up around noon, it was well over 90F and by the time we got to the edge of the Sahara, it was easily over 100F, but the heat was not suffocating.  If you stood out in the sun, you'd toast in no time, but as soon as you got under some shade, it was bearable.

I'll never forget one winter in Indiana when we had a massive blizzard followed by some sub-zero temperatures.  The air was so cold then that every time I'd breathe it'd feel as if my little hairs in my nostrils turned into little tiny icicles and then defrost as soon as I'd breathe out.  Well, here in the desert the air was so dry that it felt like every bit of moisture in my nostrils was being sucked out turning that dense jungle of hair and mucus into a parched river bed, but then replenished as soon as I'd breathe out.  (Sorry if my imagery is slightly disturbing)

After a 30-minute 4x4 ride through the rocky, Red Planet-like desert wilderness on the way to the Erg Chebbi dunes, we arrived at a mud piste auberge where we all went into hiding from the blinding and unforgiving sun.  The mud-kasbah was amazingly cool.  We decided to order lunch.  The kasbah had about everything one could find in your typical Moroccan restaurant.  The server told us that they had some of the best Kalia in the region.  I'm not even going to attempt to describe it so I'll just borrow from others.  According to Morocco.com, it describes Kalia as "...a mutton or kid stew flavored with over 40 spices served with egg, vegetables and parsley" (http://www.morocco.com/meknes-tafilalet/erfoud/).   Andrew Zimmern of Bizarre Foods also got a taste and had this to say about it:

I supposedly had Kalia in Erfoud, but my experience was not as unpleasant as Andrew's.  I do remember thinking that the meat was extremely tender and bursting with flavor.  The server told us that the meat had over 40 different spices; he did not say anything about the meat being a mystery meat, marinated in animal fat, or that it was putrid.  In retrospect, I'm glad he left the details out.  

Shortly after lunch, we took a nap.  Most of us had traveled overnight on a bus for about 8 hours or more, so it was nice to rest on a flat surface.  Our guides told us that we had to wait a few more hours for other tour groups to arrive and for the sun to come down a bit.  

After our nap, we went out of the auberge and walked a few hundred meters into the fringe of the desert dunes.  The sky was mostly overcast with just a few rays of the evening sun sneaking through the clouds .  The color of the dunes, mostly a pale beige hue at the height of the day, was now displaying a full range of rich orange shades.  I felt like a little kid walking through this vast sea of sand.  It was such a contrast to anything I had seen: the ripples in the sand, the sand hills and mountains, and the patches of desert grass at the base of these hills.  The sand was slightly coarse, but soothing to walk on.

While we wandered out, our guides began assembling our camels.  The camels grunted all the way to the mounting area.  We had two guides assigned to our group so they formed two caravan lines.  Once everyone was mounted, the guides tugged on the rope and began walking ahead of the leading camels, and just like that, our journey into the Sahara had begun.  

The hour and a half camel ride to our desert oasis was memorable in a number of ways.  The slow pace of the caravan allowed us to take in the surroundings, the changing hues of the desert landscape, the towering sand mountains, their shadows, and the rolling hills of sand going as far as the eye could see, but the pace also made the camel trek seem like it was a never-ending ordeal especially for my groin region.

That's me, second from the top

Going uphill on the camel was no problem, but going downhill put the pressure right smack on the gonads.  Ouch!  It was a relief finally to get off the camel, but just as I loosened up my boxers and pants to give my boys some room to recuperate, I couldn't help but think of our one and a half hour trek back.  The camel ride at the break of dawn with the sun rising over the horizon no longer had the same mystical allure that I had once imagined.

At campsite, there were already a number of other groups in other tents.  We saw a number of people climbing onto what looked like the knife-edge of a tall sand mountain overlooking base camp.  I climbed up to catch a glimpse of the sunset and to get a few shots of the sea of sand that extended to the horizon.  All the while, our guides were busy cooking up dinner.  They served up a number of tagines and put on a full table spread with plates and silverware.  Our group, already used to eating Moroccan-style, grabbed the xubz (bread) and began to chow using bits and pieces of bread with surgical precision to take apart the meat and grab the veggies that had, perhaps by God's will, fallen within our respective triangles of the tagine.

Once dinner was served, our guides and guides from other groups came by to put on a little drum and chant session to cap the night.  The setting was definitely magical.  The sky was pitch black, the stars were brighter than ever, the desert air was cool, and the moon provided the only light in this remote landscape.  Just as my mind was beginning to drift into the desert night, I was hurled back down when a fellow volunteer asked our guide if there was a restroom or designated place to take care of personal needs to which he responded with arms open wide and a strong roll of the 'r', "The rrrestrrroom is everrrywherrre!"

The plan was to catch a few ZZZs and then get up before dawn to catch the sunrise.  Our entire group of 11 slept in one tent.  We spoke for a bit, but then crashed for the night.  At around 5AM, our guides began banging their pots and pans to wake us up.  A few of us got up and climbed the sand mountain once again.  It was a bit chilly and windy, but the views were quite astounding.  I got to catch a glimpse of the sun as it rose over another tall sand ridge.  The sun was almost completely white.  It was beautiful.  I don't think I had ever seen the sun this clear.  I took a few shots and then scooted down the sand mountain to get a bit of breakfast--this time served inside our tent.

Soon thereafter, I reluctantly mounted another camel and just tried to focus my attention away from the ride and onto the beautiful scenery of changing orange and red hues as the sun began its ascent.  After another torturous yet amusing camel trek, I arrived at our kasbah auberge a bit bow-legged, but with all pieces intact, hamdullah (thanks be to God).  Once there, we took turns taking a much needed shower and prepared ourselves for our 4x4 ride back to Erfoud.  

On the way back, I saw a number of camels and herds of goats and some sheep grazing in the distance.  I also noticed quite a few signs advertising all sorts of marine fossils mainly of the trilobite variety.  Our drivers cautioned us that some of the shops rather than excavating in the harsh sun manufacture much of what they sell to unsuspecting tourists.

We arrived in the palm-oasis of Erfoud, most famously known for its annual date festival celebrating the harvest of a wide array of tasty date varieties.  This year the event got a major boost from the government who decided to capitalize on this abundant crop by putting up a highly publicized grand exhibition called SIDATTES 2010.  The drivers dropped us off at the Erfoud bus and taxi station.  From there, a few of us chilled out at a nearby restaurant, tried a little Kalia, and then went on our separate ways thankfully without any major bowel movement disruptions, l-hamdullilah.  

Trip Essentials:

Price

The bigger the group, the better the discount.  A lone trekker normally will pay between 400-450DH.  Our group of 11 managed to get a flat 400DH per head. Bigger groups of volunteers have been able to go as low as 350DH per person.  

What's included? 

From Erfoud, you’ll take a 4x4 ride to the kasbah auberge in Merzouga, camel trek to campsite and back, dinner and breakfast, overnight stay in their tents outfitted with spongy mattresses and plenty of blankets, and use of kasbah facilities (showers and storage).  

Who to call?

Pretty much every volunteer group has used a couple of guys who work with Sahara-Excursions.com.  Our contact is Hamid and can be reached at +212-(0)666-76-63-51.  If you tell them that you were referred by Peace Corps volunteers, volontaires du Corps de la Paix, he should honor the 350-450DH price range that he has extended to us.

How to get to Erfoud?

CTM departs to Erfoud from a number of major cities like Fes, Marrakech, and Casablanca.  Supratours also goes out to Erfoud.  They coordinate their departures based on train arrivals.  For more information, visit www.oncf.ma

BssHa on your travels!  Triq Slama!  

In Matters of Faith: Introducing Salsism

My relationship with organized religion has been a rocky one.  I grew up in an evangelical home.  I read my Bible often, prayed daily, and went to Bible school every Sunday.  My parents did not dare miss a church service.  When I began to slowly distance myself from our church, I didn't walk away from everything I had learned; I simply began to think more for myself rather than saying yea and amen to anything the church minister said. To this day, I continue to indulge in my spirituality.  I seek meaning and understanding not just from scriptures, but from encounters with people, nature, and in music.

There have been many a great messengers who I believe spoke truth in their music sometimes in their lyrics or through their instruments. Some of these contemporary luminaries are the likes of Bob Marley, John Lennon, and Pink Floyd just to name a few.  In the Latin world, we also have a number of musicians who in their devotion to perfect their craft composed some tunes that resonated in the hearts of many and continues to influence one generation after another. They produced what I like to call Salsism or Salsianity, a non-canonical compilation of Salsa songs that speak to different people in different ways.

Salsism began spreading during the 60's and 70's throughout Latin and Central America and the Caribbean.  The debate is still out on when or where the movement began gaining converts/dancers.  Some say it originated in Cuba, others say it started in Puerto Rico, and another group claims that it finally came together as a gospel in New York City.  Thanks to technological advances, some old songs are being restored that may point to a more definitive date and time, but that's for Salsism theologians to grapple about.  What's important is the message.  

Unfortunately, because Morocco has a strict ban on proselytizing, I have only shared it with a select few; however, despite the ban, it appears that Salsism may be an unstoppable force. Ominous signs can be seen in Marrakech, which hosted an International Salsa Festival late September.

Salsism from its inception has been a pluralistic tradition.   In fact, if you were to ask most Salsism followers or as we call them in Spanish Salseros, they will tell you that they also subscribe to a host of other beliefs: Catholicism, Confucianism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Protestantism, and probably to a small degree at this present moment Islam.

Like other faiths, its meaning is incomprehensible.  You can devote time to unraveling the hidden messages within the lyrics, but it is not a requirement for one to devote any time at all to that.  Actually, some of our most fervent followers don't understand a word of what is being sung, but they attend congregational meetings regularly and display their zeal on the dance floor whether it be in Cuban, Puerto Rican, Ballroom, or pegadito (nice-n-close) style.  If you were to ask most salseros about their passion for the music, I think many would agree that it's more about what you do rather than what you believe.  


One way we exhibit that passion is to partake in general congregational meetings where you can hear the gospel truth sung by a soulful sonero and where more often than not alcohol is served in abundance.   The eclectic mix of African drums, indigenous chants, and the smooth brass of NYC's jazz  influence creates an intoxicating magical fusion of captivating beats and rhythms complemented with heartfelt lyrics that quite often leave people with the insatiable need for more.  Dancing is not a requirement, but it is highly recommended for anyone wishing to experience the transcendence of moving in unison with the music and the partner of your choice--it is important to note that in this particular instance too much alcohol can work against you if you wish to reach this transcendent state.  

On my last blog I shared a tidbit of my credo sung by one of the all-time great soneros of the 20th century, Hector Lavoe.  He is one of the many soneros who we salseros believe to have interpreted some profound messages often written by Willie Colon and Ruben Blades that were then delivered through salsa.  A lot of gospel truth emerged during the 60's and 70's in what many call the Golden Age of Salsa.  Lavoe, Willie Colon, Ruben Blades, Celia Cruz, Ismael Rivera, El Gran Combo, Grupo Niche, and Oscar de Leon are just a few of some of the most prolific interpreters during Salsism's Golden Age.  The songs they sung are so timeless that the studios continue to enhance them, new soneros like Marc Anthony remake them, and DJs continue to remix them.  It's impossible to outline all the values of Salsism: first, because as I said, it's too encompassing to be narrowed down to a few phrases; and second, doing so would result in a biased, incomplete, and woefully inadequate interpretation.  There's only one way to experience transcendence.  You can't take my word for it; you have to go there yourself.

So without further ado, here are a number of songs from some of the most devout interpreters of Salsism:
  

1)  "El Todopoderoso" by Hector Lavoe


A tribute to the All-Mighty, but cautions people to keep their beliefs to themselves.

2) "Todo Tiene Su Final" by Hector Lavoe



Sings of the bloom and withering of a beautiful flower and the rise and fall of a world champion to remind all that nothing lasts forever.  Carpe diem!

3) "El Cantante" by Hector Lavoe written by Ruben Blades



Talks about the life of a famous singer who many envy and believe to be the happiest man alive.  Yet, throughout the song he claims that he is like everyone else.  He suffers and has had hard times that have hurt deeply; however, no one asks or wants to know.  He is told and he knows quite well that he is a singer.  His role is to sing and to bring joy to the people.

4) "Plastico" by Ruben Blades (This video has lyrics translated into English and shows a number of congregational meetings)



Talks of rejecting materialism and the illusion of social class.

5) "El Gran Baron" by Willie Colon


"No se puede corregir a la naturaleza, palo que nace doblao', jamas su tronco endereza."  (You can't correct/change nature.  A tree that grows bent, never does it's trunk straighten.)  The song interprets this famous dicho(saying) by telling the story of the only son of a rich man who will one day be heir to his father's fortune.  The young man is sent abroad to study, and while away from his father's constant gaze, he "comes out of the closet".  One day the father decides to make a surprise visit to his son.  The young man dressed in women's clothes and makeup greets his father on the street.  The father is appalled and disowns his son.  Years later, the young man dies all alone in a hospital.  His father after so many years wonders about the fate of his only son and inquires about him only to learn that he passed away.  Another famous dicho is added towards the end, "Si del cielo te cae limones, aprende hacer limonada" (If the heavens send you lemons, learn to make lemonade).

6) "Pedro Navaja" by Ruben Blades



In this song, Blades tells the story of a street hustler and a prostitute working the same street.  The hustler decides to assault the prostitute.  The prostitute is stabbed, but before she collapses she fires her revolver and shoots the hustler.  Both die and then a drunk man passes by tripping over them, grabs the revolver, a few coins that were on the sidewalk, and then says: "La vida te da sorpresas; sorpresas te da la vida ay Dios" (Literally, life surprises you; colloquially, shit happens.)
------
As with any message that is being delivered, one should strive to understand the context in which it was written.  Many Salsism gospel songs criticize or comment on the Latin American machismo, rampant crime, corruption, and a host of other societal ills.  I've tried not to interject my interpretation of the songs because I think everyone should determine meaning for themselves.  I've provided only brief synapses of the lyrics, but even my translations and summaries should not be taken completely to heart.

I cannot tell you what to do with the gospel that has been shared.  Some feel the need to tell all.  As for me, I prefer to live by example attending congregational meetings on a regular basis and inviting anyone in search of truth and transcendence.  Now that I am down to my last month of Peace Corps service, I can't wait to reunite with fellow salseros.  Perhaps years down the road, I will return to Morocco to partake of the festivities of what I hope will be one of the biggest congregational meetings ever.

---------

For the closest congregational meeting in your neck of the woods, check out Salsadancecongresses.com or http://www.salsapower.com/

Also, to continue to hear more gospel truth, these days you can stream live salsa from Live365, Pandora, or Spotify.    You'll also find that once you type Hector Lavoe or Willie Colon on YouTube the names of other salsa greats come up.  Good luck in your search! Keep listening and keep dancing!