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Tuesday 2004-03-16 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
From clothes to music
Coming back from the market, I drop into Barry’s bazaar, a place where many people peddle their second-hand wares, often quite fun to browse around. This time, I’m browsing with a purpose: I’m still looking for an Iranian outfit. I soon see there are practically no clothes here (never was much, but it varies); certainly not what I’m looking for.
Suddenly I remember I’m also looking for music from Turkey and Iran: I have nothing from Turkey and only on CD with music from the Lor people in Iran. I’ve seen CDs here with arabic script - so who knows? I start talking with someone who obviously doesn’t have music, but when the man (from Turkey) asks what I’m looking for he says he can try to get something. He tells me to come back tomorrow. He also offers me coffee but I have no time for that now; that makes me feel impolite…
Wednesday 2004-03-17 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Turkish music
Back to Barry’s bazaar; the Turkish music seller soon sees me. Alas, he explains, he wasn’t able to find anything on such short notice. But, he has a tip: there’s a Turkish video store in the Kinkerstraat that also sells music. He gives detailed directions for where to find it. That’s great! I’d never have thought to look for music in a video store! This time I stay for a cup of coffee, and tell him about my trip. He also tells me there are Iranian stores on the Rozengracht; at least one of them should have music. I should have realized: with so many nationalities in Amsterdam, there should be an Iranian store somewhere.
Off to the video store then; I find it easily with his directions. Once there, it takes some explaining what I’m looking for (traditional music, not pop) but the man is incredibly patient, comes with all sorts of suggestions, and lets me listen to everything. One CD has a nice picture of a shaded pool on it that reminds me of Labi Hausz in Bukhara: it’s in Urfa, he tells me; the CD title also has Urfa in it. I buy three CDs, all very nice, and all different in style.
When I get home I do some googling and find that Urfa is actually the same as Şanlıurfa: I’m delighted I actually found music from one of the places we’re going to visit!
Friday 2004-04-23 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Iranian atmosphere
On the way home I stopped at the Iranian supermarket on the Rozengracht that I’d spotted before, to see if they had any music. They had. It took a bit of explaining to the nice young man to make it clear what I was looking for, but he got the idea at last, and was extremely patient.
When I told him I wanted Iranian music because I was going to travel through that country, that caused a big smile, and earned a pat on my shoulder. I took his personal advice, and bought two CDs. Both turned out to be rather more “modern” than I expected, but they certainly don’t sound “western” either. Nice music from Jahan (male) and Shakila (female; she seems to be quite a star). Both CDs are from the US though — apparently these musicians are Iranian refugees. I actually doubt you can get music from Iran here in Amsterdam.
Wednesday 2004-04-28 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
More music: today must be my lucky day!
On the way to the travel store I popped in at a one of the bigger music stores in Amsterdam: I know they have a reasonable section of world music but they don’t know what they’re selling. But I’m still looking for that one CD of Kirghiz music which I know exists, so I tried anyway. I didn’t see anything, but they have world music frequently mis-filed. After much prodding, the girl tried to search for “Kyrgyzstan” in the computer (no, I don’t have an artist’s name!) and to my amazement came up with a title which she proceeded to fetch. It turned out to be a different CD with Kirghiz music! That was an immediately sale: such music is hard enough to get.
Just in case, I asked at the travel store as well: they do have a few CDs, but none with Kirghiz music (different publisher, anyway). But the guy sent me to another music store I didn’t know about. Wow. Not only did they have a separate “Central Asia” section (although small), they had two CDs in there I couldn’t pass up: music from Uzbekistan (by Sevara Nazarkhan), and a double CD with traditional music from Iran. And when I asked about the Kirghiz CD, they actually knew the music publisher (Buda Musique), and offered to order it for me. Done — that should be waiting for me when I get back.
My collection of Asian music is taking shape very nicely. Listening to my new acquisitions now - so far it’s great, and I’m really happy.
Thursday 2004-05-20 - Diyarbakır, Turkey
A Kurdish evening out
Our tour companion met a Kurdish man in Diyarbakır today; he knows about a cafe where there will be live Kurdish music this evening. We all gather to go there after dinner. It turns out to be a very nice and also interesting evening. The cafe is in a cellar - and quite open; only three years ago, Kurds here could not publicly play their music here, and had to meet in secret. At least the situation of the Kurds has improved somewhat now.
The singer of the band seems to be quite well known locally, and the cafe fills up: middle-aged and young people, but also whole families with children. The music is a mix of modern songs and traditional music, and whenever a traditional is played, a group of students next to us start dancing. We chat a little with them: the boys have learned the Kurdish dances since they were boys, the girls only last year. With other well-known songs they sing along. During a break a small boy comes to the stage and is allowed to sing a song. It’s obvious the Kurds cherish their own culture and keep it alive through meetings like this. The students are poor; they only share a bottle of water (they pay their share for the band, too) and can afford to do this only once a month.
We end up dancing with them, much to the amusement of the other customers, since the steps of their dances aren’t all that easy to learn. When the show is over at eleven, we get some group pictures taken, both with the dancing students and with the band, and finally are offered a drink by the cafe management. All in all a wonderful evening with an interesting little peek into Kurdish culture.
Tuesday 2005-01-25 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Back in Turkmenistan… almost
We have our third reunion today — of a sort: Marie Josee, our travel companion, managed to get (through Koning Aap) enough invitations for a special Turkmen cultural evening in Amsterdam that we can all come. There was some hassle over the invitations which didn’t all arrive, but we all confirmed through email anyway and here we all are, properly dressed up.
The reason for the happening (in the West-Indisch huis in Amsterdam, a beautiful venue for an evening like this) is the presentation of the Dutch translation of the book “Ruhnama”, written by the President of Turkmenistan, Saparmurat Niyazov, also known as “the Great Saparmyrat Türkmenbashi”. The book — officially referred to as the “Holy Ruhnama” (Book of the Soul) — was written by Mr. Niyazov during 1997-2001; in Turkmenistan everyone reads this book in school, and although some of its contents may be historically doubtful, it has definitely played a role in inspiring a sense of national pride and strengthening Turkmen culture after independence from the Soviet Union in 1991. The museum in Aşgabat has the book and a number of translations on display; no doubt the Dutch one will be added to the display now.
None of us really had any idea what to expect of this evening. We’re welcomed with drinks, and everyone sort of stands around for a while… until finally someone takes a microphone and welcomes us and especially the delegation of the Turkmen ministry of Culture, including the Minister of Culture, TV and Radio Broadcasting of Turkmenistan, Mrs. Maral Basimovna Basimova. (There had been rumors the President himself would be here, but I guess a minister is good enough.) We all troop upstairs, where after the national anthem is sung we’re shown a video about Turkmenistan. Next is a musician from Turkmenistan who sings and plays traditional music on a flute (targe tuduk), and sings some traditional songs — very beautifully.
Then it’s a (Dutch) magician’s turn; he asks for “help” from the audience, and both Vera and I are among his willing “victims”. (I’m looking him closely on his fingers, and I cannot see what he does to the EUR 50 banknote I lent him, but the promised extra EUR 50 doesn’t appear: instead I get a piece of toilet paper which he says I now know how to turn into a banknote (sure…), and my banknote with now an (illegal) mark on it. One of the Turkmen musicians also “helps” him, and finally, in a spray of fireworks, the book is conjured up.
Next on is the Minister, who tells us about the development of Turkmenistan since its independence, and proudly declares that the “holy Ruhnama” has now been translated into 26 “world languages”; this is followed by a short interview with madame Minister. Wouter van Wijk from Koning Aap Reizen comes up next to present a slide show about traveling in Turkmenistan. This elicits a curious response from the Minister: one of the slides shows a traditional way of baking bread in the desert (I witnessed a demonstration of that myself in 2002, although it was made clear this was no longer daily practice); she gets up and assures us that such primitive things don’t happen any more, the country is more developed now — factually true, maybe, but it demonstrates a complete misunderstanding of what travellers to the country may be interested in (as the video demonstrated as well). It’s a common culture clash: tourists come for history, while inhabitants of a country are proud of their modern development… After this short intermezzo, the official part of the evening is over, and we all move over to yet another large room.
Here we are treated to more drinks, and an international buffet: Italian, Indonesian and… where are the Turkmen dishes? I find them tucked away in a side room off the main hall. And there is music: The little orchestra, part of the delegation from Turkmenistan, is excellent; they play a wide variety of music, from classical (arias), through traditional Turkmen music, to jazz, with singing by two young ladies and an older man; more traditional instruments appear, such as a dutar (a type of lute used in several varieties across Central Asia) and a dili tuduk which is like a piccolo version of the flute we heard before. Among the guests is a young Turkmen who studies at a Dutch conservatory; long after the evening is officially over, he is invited onto the stage by the older (and apparently quite famous) Turkmen singer, and together they sing an aria, in a kind of dialog, taking turns, both just singing for the joy of it, ignoring the audience, and with the older singer very obviously enjoying the young talent next to him. It forms a touching finish to a somewhat weird but interesting Turkmen evening — we felt a bit as if we were travelling in Turkmenistan again.
On the way out, we all get a copy of the “holy Ruhnama”; an attempt to have my copied signed by madame Minister fails (it’s a holy book by our great president, she explains, she really can’t sign that), but the young Turkmen singer is happy to oblige — not that I can read his cyrillic handwriting apart from the date.
Thursday 2006-09-07 - P’yŏngyang, Democratic People’s Republic of Korea
Growing talent
In every school in the country, children can take part in all sorts of extra-curricular activities. Those who show real talent for something can move on to one of the 11 Children’s’ Palaces in the country; then they go there every day after school to practice and receive high-quality instruction.
This afternoon, we visit one such Children’s’ Palace in P'yŏngyang, the Mangyongdae School children's Palace. It really is a palace, fitted out in local marble with decorations of other types of stone. For a change, we get a tour not from a professional local guide, but from a teenage girl (she's 15, maybe) who tells us about the building and smoothly shows us around along various classes. We see children taking lessons in music (both on the traditional zither and on accordion), swimming (a large swimming hall with jumping boards of different heights, the highest 5m high), calligraphy, embroidery (using a technique that's more like painting with colored threads -- the best done so that both sides of the cloth are "good" so the painting can be put up in a free-standing frame). Some of the kids are already very good, while others are still learning basic techniques.
After visiting these classes (obviously a small selection of what’s on offer), we get to see one of the weekly performances. In the theater, all foreign tourists sit in the middle section of seats, while other visitors, mainly schoolchildren, sit on either side: as usual we’re kept carefully apart from local people.
The kids, of a variety of ages, present a dazzling show with song and dance, mime, acrobatics, and both modern and traditional music. These kids are so good, I get goose pimples every now and then — and I’m not the only one. True, they’re the cream of the cream, but it’s extremely impressive.
