Connecting through disconnecting

The best moments in Chile often happen when I'm busy trying to do something else, like check my email in the office at school. I was clicking away through the Internet when I heard the strum of an out-of-tune guitar in the anteroom outside the door. Then calls of "ven!" from the director, Ricardo, and the music teacher, Patricio, who were busy taking out brand new instruments out of cardboard boxes, tuning them up, and trying them out.

"Here, try this!" they said, handing me one of those keyboards that you blow through to make a sound. (Sorry, I can't remember what this is called in English or Spanish!) I played a few notes as they got their guitars in key, and then traded it for a tambourine.

Ricardo took up a recorder and started playing melodies, Patricio strummed along on guitar quite beautifully, and I did my best to tap along to it all. They knew so many songs...Chilote folksongs, Christmas music, Andean songs, marches, Valparaiso, Violetta Parra, "Gracias a la vida." I had to wonder if people at home in the states could pull out as many songs as these two did in the middle of the day.

"Thanks to the life!" Ricardo said, practicing his English. When he'd play a sad song, sometimes he'd pretend to cry dramatically, putting down his flute to wipe tears from his eyes and then burst into laughter. When he played the theme from Titanic, he paused to stand up, arms out, alá king-of-the-world Leonardo DiCaprio.

We played for a long time, and Ricardo traded the flute for a guitar. He has always known both, but when he was a broke student in the university, he said he had to choose between a $20 flute and a $100 guitar. "Obviously I picked the flute!" he said.

In the office next door, the phone started to ring.

"Should I get that?" I asked, seeing a possible escape from the rhythm section.

"No, leave it!" Ricardo replied, still strumming.

The phone rang again. And again. We ignored it every time. Ricardo closed the door to the office so we woulnd't hear it ring anymore--but it still chirped over our little band. That's when Ricardo went in the office and ripped the phone cord out of the jack, disconnecting the school for good. Back to the music.

All the teachers had gone to the center to strike, so there wasn't really anyone in the school besides us, the auxiliar, and a handful of other staff. A few students were there too. Luckily they can still get lunch at school even if the paro continues. They drifted to the music with juice boxes, and I handed off my tambourine. We took all the instruments out of the boxes, even the xylophone, until everyone was playing something. There was dischord, sure, but it was a beautiful sound. It was an entirely Chilean moment. I imagine at home, school directors would jump to answer the phone and be very organized about how new musical instruments are distributed and shared and played. I'm starting to think the Chilean way is better though. Tomorrow is my last day at school, and I am really going to miss this place and this wonderful if chaotic way Chileans have of doing things.

I went back to my email, my Facebook, this little blog, documenting and retelling. But it was so great to be in that moment, just enjoying it and hearing what we were playing, and connecting as we disconnected the phone.