Thursday, December 26, 2013

Thailand: Political Troubles, Thai Style

Bill Bryson, the humorous travel writer and popular polymath, once said, “I can't think of anything that excites a greater sense of childlike wonder than to be in a country where you are ignorant of almost everything. Suddenly you are five years old again. You can't read anything, you have only the most rudimentary sense of how things work, you can't even reliably cross a street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses” (in Neither Here Nor There: Travels in Europe).


Next to recreational drug use and paying for sex, politics is the most slippery slope an ignorant traveler can venture upon. That is why Jan and I, when asked by locals for our opinion of their political scene, usually say, “We don’t know enough to have an opinion.” This is no false modesty on our part. Truly, we are remarkably ignorant of other nations’ current events (and even founding histories).


So we generally try to avoid the subject of politics—except to notice things in other countries that put our American political system to shame. A few of the superior political ideas and practices we have encountered so far include: compulsory voting (in Australia and Thailand); the constitutional right to affordable, high-quality health care in Thailand; and mandatory retirement (at half salary) for Indonesian teachers who reach age 62.



But when we arrived in Thailand two weeks ago, politics was literally in our faces. Bangkok’s streets were thronged with protestors, the government was shut down, the nation’s first female prime minister was reduced to tears, and—of more immediate concern for us—a HUG Your Baby class had to be called off!


Friends at home and abroad were emailing us, concerned for our safety, although we have never felt any personal danger in Thailand (or anywhere on our travels so far—except from monkeys). So we started reading The Bangkok Post (Thailand’s English-language newspaper), trying to discover what was at issue in this Buddhist democracy. We also had conversations with some of our Thai hosts, who were eager to help us—and watch us—understand. Through this research we’ve collected enough information to hazard an opinion about what’s up, politically, in Thailand.


The latest round of Thai political protests are set against a very long and wide backdrop, of course. Thailand and Brunei are the only two countries in the ASEAN region that were never colonies of a European country. For this reason, both countries have powerful royal families that are much loved by the general population (although younger adults tend to be less devoted monarchists than older citizens).



The current king of Thailand (whose birthday, celebrated just as we arrived, is the nation’s biggest holiday) has ruled since 1946. He is now 86 and is wheelchair-bound. In his younger days he may have been able to knock heads and bring opposing factions to the table. That’s not likely to happen now.


Thailand has been a constitutional monarchy since 1932. Remarkably, women have voted in Thailand since 1897! Democracy has a long but fragile history in Thailand, and it is very much up for grabs as the protests mount.



Contemporary Thailand has at least four major political parties, but the two most quarrelsome are identified by the color of shirts their vocal followers wear. The “Red Shirt” UDD (United Front for Democracy Against Dictatorship) is a populist movement whose chief concern is justice and opportunity for the rural poor. Yingluck Shinawatra, from the allied Pheu Thai party, became Thailand’s first female primary minister in 2011, following a landslide election that international monitors judged to be free and fair.


The “Yellow Shirt” PDRC (People’s Democratic Reform Committee) is the party that has engineered the protests. This party’s leadership are wealthy, educated, Bangkok people, who think that the current government is corrupt. The PDRC party line is that, from its rural (and Northern) power base, Thailand’s elected (but corrupt) officials are raising the tax burden on the prosperous and well-employed residents of the capital city, with the aim of redistributing wealth, unsustainably, from the rich to the poor.


Comparing the Yellow-Shirt protestors to the American Tea Party activists may be too simple a comparison, but the similarities are, in many respects, striking. The Yellow Shirts think the current government needs to be radically reformed, and they are perfectly willing to throw sticks in the spokes of government. The protests you see on TV are actually anti-democratic, not pro-democratic. Those engineering them not only resemble the Tea Party. They also resemble the members of Thai elite whose fascination with fascism led the country to side with Japan in the early days of the constitutional monarchy.




The PDRC is “Democratic” in name only. Its leaders aren’t calling for another election they know they would lose. Some of them want the monarchy to return with a new constitution. Others want an appointed committee to rule (even though almost half of the Thai Senate is, according to the current constitution, already appointed rather than elected). The scariest voices in the PDRC urge a return to military rule, but so far the military is shying away from seizing power.  


But democracy is fragile in Thailand. The Bangkok police and the Thai military both have a history of heavy-handed responses to internal conflict. To its credit, the big protest we witnessed on Monday, December 9 (in which more than 150,000 citizens flooded the streets of Bangkok), was remarkably peaceful. The police gave the protestors the access they wanted to public buildings, and the protestors gave the police what they wanted, peacefully clearing out afterwards.



The question is: What do the Thai people want? And they clearly seem to want the Shinawatras—Yingluck, if not her popular but exiled brother, Thaksin (a Ph.D. telecom mogul, now living in Dubai and London). The political power of the Shinawatra clan is what the Yellow Shirts fear. They hate Thaksin and his sister as much as the Tea Party hates Obama: enough to ruin the country in pursuit of their political agenda. If the Yellow Shirts succeed, watch to see if the North secedes.


Of course there is an alternative to civil war. The ballot box still holds power in Thailand. Unfortunately, that is precisely the power the current protestors hope to trump.

Friday, November 8, 2013

Malaysia/Brunei: At Home and at Peace in Muslim Lands


The Call to Prayer (adhan, or azad) wakes us up in Malaysia (where we stay directly across from the country’s largest mosque) and in Brunei (where we recently stayed with an exceptionally kind and generous Muslim family).







What remarkable and moving words: “Allah Akbar.” God is great. Now THERE’S a thought to keep in mind—at least five times a day—especially when the muzzein who intones the Call is so powerfully present, and beautifully precise with his pitch and phrasing! Morning prayer includes the notion that it is “better to pray than to sleep.” Most days, at least, I’m aligned with that sentiment.




But I need to pause here. God and “Allah” do not denote the same Reality, at least not according to a recent ruling of the Malaysian Supreme court. And in Brunei yesterday (the day we left), that country’s Supreme Court decided to phase in implementation of Shariah law, which includes in its arsenal of penalties to its Muslim citizens (only): amputation of hands (for stealing), stoning (for adultery), and caning (for abortion).


People in the USA (a nation founded through an anti-monarchial, democratic revolution) may believe that it’s a civic right—duty, even—to stand up, speak out, and organize when they feel their government has taken a wrong turn. I hear that’s what’s happening in North Carolina right now. But protest, however peaceful, has never been a path to change in Brunei. Decisions of Sultan Hassanal Bolkiah (one of the world’s wealthiest men, whose family has been in power for 600 years) are final.



Jan and I have talked a good deal about emerging political realities, both in America and abroad. We’ve concluded that HUG Your Baby's focus is, and ought to be, personal and educational rather than political or religious on this year of international teaching. After all, we travel in the wake of both Hillary Clinton (2012) and John Kerry (2013) as we bring what we can offer to this remarkable part in the world. 

However you approach it, the pan-Malaysian world is wonderfully multicultural. Over here it’s not the African and European people who are most conspicuous (as in North Carolina’s history); the Malay and Chinese cultures figure most prominently. Indians, Europeans and indigenous groups are in the mix as well, just as Latinos, Asians and Native Americans play active roles in North Carolina life today.



Malaysians describe their country as a “melting pot” of Malay, Chinese, and Indian cultures. While each of these groups has its distinctive holidays and customs, individuals from all three backgrounds work, learn and live together harmoniously. Public buses play the “One Malaysia” multicultural music video, to build national pride. We, as Americans, felt nothing but a warm welcome everywhere we went in Malaysia. Indeed, the Malaysian flag looks like an Islamic version of the Stars and Stripes!


Through HUG Your Baby, which has been exceptionally well received in both Malaysia and Brunei, Jan and I have been blessed to meet so many kind and generous, caring and devoted people of both Malay and Chinese ancestry. (When these two cultures merge through marriage, the product is called Baba Nonya—literally, “men / women”—or Peranakan). A marvelously varied, truly world-class cuisine has been one outcome of such cultural intermingling.


Both countries are majority Muslim, and Jan and I have witnessed a religion of peace and love at work in the lives, families and communities we’ve gotten to know. People appear VERY calm and happy—and regular prayer is a big part of what keeps them centered. Before Bakar would pull out of his driveway to take us to Ripas Hospital, he always whispered a prayer. Every kid in Brunei learns this practice in Driver’s Ed class, he told us. Very reassuring for passengers, parents of new drivers, and other drivers too!




People here are also uncommonly generous—upholding another of Islam’s Five Pillars. A religion of peace and love lives in the hearts of the nurses and doctors we have met, clearly visible in both the care they give their patients and the welcome they have given us. With an excellent, modern system of universal health care, Bruneians pay a dollar for a doctor visit. The USA has much to learn!


It’s a complicated world we ALL inhabit—or it should be. How dull life would be if everybody thought the same, acted alike, and lived in exactly the same manner! How much LESS GREAT God would be (I, for one, currently believe) if each human being reflected only the same, simple Truth. A world of differences is a more wonderful world, don’t you think?














Monday, October 28, 2013

Bali: More Music Connections

From the late ‘80s through the mid ‘90s I had a band (with Dave Smith and Mary Cohn) called The Sound Connection. We had fun, playing most often at weddings. In fact—though this is a contrarian view to voice among fellow musicians—I’ve always enjoyed playing weddings. Wedding music has a function. It serves a purpose: to bring people together in celebration. People of different ages, backgrounds and tastes all connect as they listen and dance. It’s a “sound connection.” Isn’t that really the point? Call me a cave man, but I think music is at its best when it’s more of a means than an end.



Being in Bali has presented unanticipated opportunities to connect with many wonderful people, both living and dead, through music (whose mystic purpose Edmund Gurney explored in the 1880s as “the power of sound”). In a previous post I reported how Jonathan and David and I rehearsed and jammed with Balinese musicians to create a joyful and memorable New Year’s celebration. Music was our chosen means of connecting.



During the last couple of weeks I’ve continued to make more music and musical connections in Bali by playing at a birthday party and, yes, a wedding. At this high-end wedding reception, before the reggae band I was playing with went on, I heard, and then met, the very talented young musician, Gus Teja, and his world music ensemble. This close encounter with a bamboo flute master (and gifted composer and arranger) was a moment to remember. But over the last week three other musical events occurred that stand out as even more meaningful for me. Read on to learn why!




Ida Bagus Oka, our guide and driver and friend, has engineered most of my Balinese “sound connections.” Ida loves to laugh when I call him my “agent.” A retired teacher like me, Ida is an exceptionally well-connected person in Ubud. Not only has he let me use the alto sax I helped him buy on my first visit to Bali; Ida has also introduced me, in a short span of time, to many local musicians. 

Several of these local musicians, like Gus Teja (mentioned above) and Agung Gepeng (mentioned below), were Ida’s students. For twenty years Ida taught math and science, music and badminton—and also stepped in to lead Hindu prayers, when a priest could not be found—at the primary school on Monkey Forest Road.



The Cool Tone Blues Band offered me a regular place to sit in: Thursday nights at the lovely and delicious Siam Sally restaurant. Agung (guitar) and Koko (vocals) both speak excellent English and are wonderfully soulful musicians. The other Cool Tone guys (who play bass, keyboards and percussion) are really good musicians too, and in demand to play metal and jazz with other local bands. 




The Cool Tones serve up a broad and faithful repertoire of blues and classic rock, played at an ear-catching low volume (thanks, in part, to their use of cajon instead of drumset). What’s more, they play with verve and precision, covering everybody from Howling Wolf and Freddy King to Eric Clapton, Stevie Wonder, and even a song like “What a Wonderful World.”



The more I worked with them, the more I was impressed by the Cool Tones’ range and depth. How improbable it is that these young men in Bali should devote their lives to the same music that shaped my life, a generation earlier, in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Nashville and North Carolina! Plus, they could not be more respectful, kind and appreciative. Remarkably, they see me as a kind of hero: someone who has actually inhabited the ideal world of their dreams. It was touching to play with them on Thursday, for the last time on this trip. We were all sad to part ways, but I will stay in touch with these guys, and I expect Jon and Dave will too.  



Another remarkable experience I had with music last week was visiting the School for the Blind in Denpasar, and attending a high school music class there. Ida used to teach at this school, Yayasan Pendidikan Dria Raba, and his brother teaches there now. The young musicians I shared an hour with (in a small but well-equipped, dimly-lit, air-conditioned and sound-insulated room) closely resemble the many middle and upper school bands I worked with during my decades at CFS.  



Largely student-led, this Bali-based band of the blind work out their own arrangements, finding parts for several electric guitars plus bass, drums, and keyboard. Two or three of the musicians also sing, well. We played a blues tune, a couple of Indonesian pop songs, and then—most amazing to my ears—a rocking cover of “Cotton Fields,” with Texarkana perfectly pronounced in Lead Belly’s English!


I carefully passed around, for the students to “see,” the beautiful Mark VI tenor that Jelle Oortman Gerlings is letting me use (with the precious horn still hanging protectively from my neck, Jelle!). I was moved as I watched wise, young fingers study the horn’s mechanism and engraving.


But the most moving musical experience of all my days in Bali happened just last night, when I played with The Soul Doctors. Wil Hammer, the husband of midwife Robin Lim, and Dennis Ferrell, a “nearly retired” psychologist originally from Texas, formed The Soul Doctors in 2008. Now the band is a regular fixture on the Bali music scene. They cover a lot of great material from Dylan and The Band, to Louis Prima, James Taylor, Mark Knopfler and The Beatles (among many others), but the heartbeat of their music is its originality.


Wil and Dennis write clever, well constructed tunes, and they perform them well, too, with studied arrangements. All proceeds from CD sales support the Bumi Sehat Foundation. Mamo on bass and Komang on guitar are gifted Indonesian musicians, and the band really pops with Robi Navicula (a certified Balinese rock star in his own right) and Oded (an Israeli who once used Roman Catholic relief money to rebuild a tsunami-damaged mosque in Ache!) on percussion. For me it was particularly satisfying to play with a group that has charts and rehearses, especially since the rehearsal spot—Wil and Robin’s family compound—is a five-minute walk from where Jan and I stay in Nyuh Kuning!



So I rehearsed several times during the past ten days with these talented, friendly and funny Soul Doctors: all for a one-hour set last night at Indus Restaurant. The event was designed to be a happy gathering, but there was an inescapable undercurrent of sadness too. Its purpose was to celebrate the life of Kerry Pendergrast, who sang with The Soul Doctors until just six weeks ago, when she suddenly, unexpectedly, died of a massive brain infarction.



I learned a great deal about Kerry at the celebration. Her Balinese husband, Pranato, played a handmade flute, passionately, in her honor. Then their two young-adult children both sang original songs, in very different styles, about their mom. Those performances were beautiful, but heart wrenching to hear. Kerry was not only a great musician, who passed on her love of music. I learned she was also an accomplished painter, a formidable poet, a free-spirited dancer, a feminist cabaret performer, a very funny lady, and a devoted wife and mother who helped found a daycare center. As Kerry’s family and friends remembered her, they also revealed how she brightened and inspired so many lives: by daring to be exactly herself!



And then I took the stage with The Soul Doctors—literally standing in Kerry’s place—trying (through a raging fever) to be like her: exactly myself. I never met Kerry, and that is my loss. But it’s much less a loss than the one that those who knew and loved her must bear. 



I’m grateful to Wil and Dennis for letting me play their songs—Kerry’s music—with them. It was an honor to celebrate her inspiring life by accenting the joyful, healing connections that music's blind faith, power, and love express. In the process, I hope I helped The Soul Doctors live up to their name!

Sunday, October 27, 2013

Bali: Balinese Music and Musicians


Balinese culture is a rich, sophisticated tapestry that is formed of many interlocking strands, styles, and traditions. Since my first visit to Bali in 1981, I’ve found gamelan music to be soothing, spellbinding, and challenging. Hearing it always grounds me in a specific, enchanting and absorbing world.


During my most recent trips to Bali in 2013-14 it’s been such a pleasure to learn more about the variety of Balinese musical styles, and to get to know—and play with—some excellent Balinese musicians.


In September I made time to learn more about the Balinese suling (bamboo flute). I enjoyed a two-hour lesson, then, with I Wayan Karta, a suling master and bamboo flute maker. My time with him focused on the circular breathing technique used by suling players. I also bought a flute from him, tuned to play western music.






Our exceedingly well connected guide and driver, Ida Bagus Oka, found an alto sax for me to play. (I later helped him buy a new one of his own.) It was great to sit in with a couple of very talented Balinese blues bands based in Ubud: Moko’s Blues Band (featuring Komang, the Taj Mahal of Bali) and the more youthful Cool Tones Blues Band, featuring the tasteful and very soulful Agung on guitar.


What a pleasure it is to play with both groups! Komang and Agung are exceptionally warm and welcoming guys—and wonderful artists, deeply rooted in the American blues tradition. As young men they discovered that blues music let them express their individuality more fully than they could do playing the gamelan music that they cut (and filed!) their teeth on.


I was also delighted to meet Jelle (a.k.a. Jelle Oortman Gerlings), a Julliard-trained Dutch saxophonist (turned television and film director), who generously loaned me a Mark VI tenor to play while I'm in Ubud. Now I can play tenor and alto at the same time—something perhaps never seen before in these parts!





It was great fun to have sons Jonathan and David join me, sitting in with the Cool Tone guys, at their regular gig at Ubud’s Siam Sally restaurant and bar. Wonderful food and atmosphere! The Henderson family was a hit, with both the band and the customers.



Even more challenging, and fulfilling, was the chance all three of us had to work with I Wayan Sudirana. Sudi, a native of Ubud, has recently returned from a 10-year stint in Vancouver. There he earned a Ph.D. in ethnomusicology and worked with the university's gamelan. During his sojourn in North America he also played with a number of other gamelan groups and world music ensembles.

Sudi is a consummate musician, composer, and teacher. Chok Wa, the member of Ubud’s royal family who is the local patron of Balinese performing arts, invited us three Henderson boys to take part in a New Year’s Eve music “collaboration,” led by Sudi. We went to three, three-hour rehearsals, with a rotating cast of Balinese performers, at the beautiful “new palace” for performing arts, which Chok Wa is constructing on the edge of one of Ubud’s most spectacular ravines. In a previous post I described playing Chok Wa's wooden saxophone in this same setting last September.


Rehearsals took place on Chok Wa’s stunning porch (the most beautiful rehearsal space I’ve ever seen!), where we drank coffee, watched the sun set, and admired the statues, waterfalls, and nearby rice terraces. We improvised together, shared teaching techniques (such as rolling large wooden dice to signal spontaneous changes in the group’s rhythm or pitch), and worked on one of Sudi’s compositions.

That piece, “Kaju Fenny,” is probably the most rhythmically challenging music I’ve ever attempted to perform. Basically written in seven (actually 21/8), much of it has a two-against-three feeling. Plus, there are quite a few meter changes (to 12/8, 18/8, and 27/8). Solos are played over a cycle of measures that “count down”: 7 measures, 6 measures, 5, 4, 3, 2 and 1. Then the cycle repeats. Perhaps most amazing is how singable the melody is. This piece is truly a gem!



But Jonathan (on bass), Dave (on cajon), and I (on alto) really had to woodshed our parts! I’m glad we had each other to rely on—and partners who were willing for us to arrange our vacation schedule to accommodate rehearsals both at Chok Wa’s palace and in our hotel rooms.



By the evening of the performance, the piece was sounding pretty good. Playing melody lines with the sax were a western-tuned, small xylophone (played by a guy who, in an hour, learned by ear and by heart the part that took me three days to almost play right!), and a violin played by a Balinese woman of Chinese descent. For the performance Sudi decided to play cheng cheng (cymbal pairs on a stand), although over the course of the rehearsals he performed and taught parts of his composition on suling, xylophone, voice, and various percussion instruments.



The only disappointment was that New Year’s Eve turned out to be excessively rainy. The large and beautiful outdoor stage at the Lotus Café in Ubud had been prepared with lights and a sound system for our performance. However, the weather did not cooperate. After waiting for two hours, hoping the skies would clear, the musicians (about 20 in number and carrying a variety of western, eastern, and Balinese instruments) retreated to a nearby, closed Starbuck’s, where we proceeded to entertain ourselves (within earshot of the Lotus Café customers). What a memorable session it was! We played Sudi’s piece and maybe a dozen others. 



Balinese are soft-spoken people, and their vocal styles tend to reflect this cultural preference. Dave’s approach to singing is quite the opposite—but people loved it. A spoken word artist was inspired (perhaps even challenged) to offer poetic reflections on the new year. The highlight of the evening for me was sharing a version of “St. Thomas,” which included a reference to “Auld Lang Syne.” After Jonathan had played a beautiful bass solo, and the instrumental theme was ready to restate, the Balinese musicians spontaneously added a “kecak” rhythm to our performance. It was so cool I almost couldn’t play out the head!



For Jon, Dave, and me (and, I think, for the Balinese musicians too), New Year’s 2014 was a memorable one. Food came out at midnight, and we wrapped up our “show” as fireworks burst overhead with everybody toasting both the new year and the universal spirit of the rhythm, melody, and harmony that brought us all together.