The Performance

I need to start a list of things I never thought I would do that now I've done.  I'll start that list with "Perform in a taiko performance at a musical event in Japan."

The language barrier is an ever present monolith, overshadowing every interaction.  We thought we performed at 10:00am and the event went until 2:00.  No.  We played at ten and at two.  Guess who the open act was.  I'll give you a hint: it wasn't the Rolling Stones.

We showed up an hour early to don our traditional apparel.  Kelli and I wore white robes with black trim.  We wore black belts tied over it and black headbands.  I'd show you pictures, but as always, we forgot to take a camera.  Everyone else wore a different outfit; it was more of a white apron with a white headband.  We all wore cool ninja shoes, where your big toe goes in it's own pocket.  The whole time I was wearing the outfit, I had a nearly overwhelming desire to karate chop something.  I was holding big wooden drumsticks too, which didn't pacify the urge either.

The curtain on stage was down while we set up our drums.  The announcer talked for ever.  The head drummer nodded for us to kneel behind our drum.  Then we stood up.  Then we knelt.  He was talking for an awfully long time and we just wanted to get this over with.  As he kept talking we caught the word gaijin.  Our whole band broke out laughing. We've never been called gaijin in our hearing, because it is pretty rude to call someone a foreigner.  Well, now we were just called gaijin to an entire crowd of mostly traditional, reserved, elderly people.  After seeing the demographic of the crowd I developed a theory: He said it so the geriatric ward wasn't shocked to death by our appearance.

Eventually the curtain went up.  And we did our best to keep up, keep the beat, keep from feeling like a doofus.  We succeeded only moderately at all three.  It wasn't until we heard the audience clapping that it sunk in just how good our head drummer and club leader is.  She is rockin'.  It was hard not to lose the beat and just watch.

As a whole, our group did great.  After the song, we changed and went to watch the other acts.  There were fan dances and sword dances and singing and shamisen and flutes.  For lunch we all went outside and ate sushi.

Our club is awesome.  These people take the time to try and talk with us.  I get the sense that some of them are a little outside the Japanese norm, but I'm not sure.  Maybe once you get to know them, they let their guard down and become more animated.  We are grateful for them either way.  We feel welcome.

The only other male member of our band is a buff 58 year old.  He is a flute teacher, like his father before him.  He makes flutes, teaches flute, directs a high school band and is a ski instructor.  He drums like a maniac too.

To be honest, you can only take so much foreign singing in one day.  We were all relieved when the time came to suit up for the closing act.  The lead drummer's daughter, a cute nine year old, played her koto with us.  She wore her purple kimono with a dark purple and red obi.

Things didn't go much  better for Kelli and I this time, but what an experience.  The concussions of our drums filled the auditorium, our beats all moving together and then apart.  Whenever everyone was in unison it was a rush.  Maybe our drums added to the music.  Maybe they didn't.  Maybe we were more of a novelty.  Who cares?  We got to hear the music.

We have a couple weeks off from practice.  Maybe they were hoping to scare us away, but we're going back for more.