Songs To Relate To

I only went to one formal dance in high school. Prom. I was very timid of dancing and of girls, but this time around I had someone important I wanted to bring. I remember very distinctly the song we slow-danced to: Daniel Bedingfield's “If You're Not The One.”

Although romantic feelings for my high school prom date have long been buried and forgotten, every time I hear that song, I cannot help but recall fond memories of her and of that time we shared together. Music is powerful in that way. It can serve as a strong reminder of meaningful people and experiences. Since I have been in Kenya, I have found that some of the songs I listened to growing up have been redefined. From old bands like U2 and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, I have forged an even tighter affinity toward their music. Here are a few of the songs I mean:

“Where the streets have no name.” (U2)

The only way to find a place in the United States is by the street name and the address. Clearly typed out on Google Maps, one can find any place that has a street sign hanging like a name tag on the corner. But deeper in the rural areas of Kenya where I live, there are no street signs. There are no corner roads and gas stations. People give directions by telling you the person who lives nearby, or which tall tree must be followed. Mailing addresses consist nearly exclusively of P.O. Boxes. Yet, the fact that these dirt roads remain unnamed does not mean they are unknown; they are always traveled and deeply well known by all who live nearby.

“Cattle in the marketplace” (Paul Simon – You Can Call Me Al)

Even before coming to Africa, I felt I could already strongly relate to Paul Simon's – Graceland album, but this line now hits home on a whole new level. Back in California, the cattle are tucked away into the smelly armpit of the state: Bakersfield, where at least 150 miles set me apart. One would call animal control if they ever saw a cow in a produce market in California, but here the domesticated cows and goats are a common sight among the fruits and vegetables in the marketplace. Goats often loiter around to clean up fallen morsels, and the mooing of cattle is never out of earshot.


“when you see the southern cross for the first time, you understand now why you came this way” (Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – Southern Cross)

The Southern Cross is the simplest of constellations dancing about in the Southern hemisphere. It is just 4 stars in the shape of a kite or a cross, but in its simplistic beauty it holds a very useful tool. No matter what time of night, there is a way to tell which direction is due South by measuring the diameter of the constellation. The first time I saw this constellation, I was climbing Mt. Kenya, where the sky was crystal clear. Despite the bitter night's cold and the altitude, I could not help but stare upon the heavens with a deep sense of serenity.

“I bless the rains down in Africa” (Toto - Africa)

For the first two months after arriving at my site, I witnessed constant suffering on account of the lack of water. Women carried 45 pounds of water on their heads for miles day after day because there literally was no water nearby. The area was desiccated, the trees and bushes had shed their leaves and focused all of their energies on survival, and the soil was deeply parched.
I was in the church building when it happened. It was a Friday at 4pm, we were condoling the passing of an esteemed old lady in the village. Just as we had finished the ceremony and turned to leave, a thundering sound began to emanate from within the church. Huge droplets of rain pounded viciously upon an iron roofing, and the stone walls and floors only reinforced the deafening sound. I looked out the window of the church and saw the dry dirt turn deep red, as if drinking deeply after a long and difficult stretch. Each blessed drop that fell seemed to alleviate the suffering of the villagers, of the plants and the trees. Such a simple thing like rain, but the blessing was substantial, and well received.

Music - among many other things, it serves as a medium for fond memories. Just as I feel deeply connected to my high school prom date whenever I hear Daniel Bedingfield, I will carry with me the precious memories of my African experience through the songs I love.