Rojo Mojo

I just watched the most amazing video that I just have to share that I found through this wonderful blog that I just love to visit and have kept meaning to share for the longest time but just haven't gotten around to it.

Planet Nomad already talks about the dynamic duo who make guitar magic on this video, and she even got to see them in concert. I am so out of it that I am just now hearing about them (how oh how bad off would I be if there was no internet -- no blogs? oh, I shudder) but already I want their CD (better yet, DVD, because watching that "blurriness which is her hand" is really almost half the joy) and am finally motivated and inspired to start calling around this still newish (to me) city of ours about guitar lessons for my 12-yr-old that I have been promising him for, uh, awhile.

I have enjoyed Planet Nomad for the cultural observations that she makes as an American and educator who recently moved to Oregon after living in Mauritania, with plans for her and her family to make Morocco their home (this summer?). She's also an engaging writer and aspiring novelist of said experiences. But really, she's just fun and real and as a red-blooded american mother of three herself who's been homeschooling her children this year in a french curriculum to keep the continuity (and their spots in the system) during this year-long hiatus I find myself just shaking my head. I mean, some people thought we were crazy for putting Conner in an Italian school while we were in Italy, but that ain't nothing compared to the hoops they jumped through to get their kids enrolled in the French-based school in Mauritania to give their kids the opportunity that would provide. Hence the homeschooling: it was very, very difficult to qualify for the slots; but once you're in, you're in.

I have thought so many times of how I need to tell my aunt (aka "judy", an occasional commenter) and uncle, especially, of this blogger as they are my sole family members who lived for a time (four years) in Africa (Kinshasha, then Zaire), albeit so, so many moons ago. And they were the ones that inspired me to go to Africa myself (Tanzania) for a college semester, almost half as many moons ago. (Is that possible?)

So here's my shout out -- to Judith and Don, and to anyone else looking for an interesting, cultural-observational type read. Go read Planet Nomad!

I'll just let you read her thoughts on these amazing guitarists. So go read them. Now. Complete with how to maneuver a concert crowd like a true Mauritanian.

Suffice it to say that it had us grooving and bopping and beating our hands to the beat on the nearest hard object we could find. Not to mention staring agog at the whir of her...strumming? Can you even call it that?

Me and the kids were getting freaky, anyway. John came home in the middle of our third listening and stood there soaking it in a moment before he gave two sharp claps and said, "Garcon! hey! where's my sangria?" Yea, yea, that's french-like. But you get the idea.

Alas, we have not yet trained our kids in the art of mixed drinks. But they were more than happy to oblige with a performance of their own.

If you haven't already clicked on a link above to enjoy the music and/or the blog of Planet Nomad, I'm posting a YouTube below. Because you must, must experience these guitarists slash drummers for yourself. Especially if you are in a funk. Because you will have to move and tap your hand, at the very least. If you can even stay in your seat.

Then again, I don't have a life, so you all probably already ran into these guys ages ago. (Why didn't you tell me?) It's not like I don't try to get out -- like tonight? Conner and I were going to go to our second Italian session. But John belatedly realized that there was a function that he ought to attend after all. And I sooo don't have the last-minute babysitter hook-up going on here.

But that's okay, because I'll get the little ones down early and Conner and I will watch American Idol instead, and I'll get to see if Josiah the homeless dude gets through despite his major flub-up (I think he will) along with other favorites like the Aussie with the awesome Jimi Hendrix bone structure and the female rocker/nurse who almost died in a car wreck just days before Hollywood Week and sang her rocker heart out anyway with two broken ribs. Now that's chutzpah.

Yes, I just gave myself away, because I am an official 30-something Idol fan. But here, see John? Aw, looks like he might get his sangria after all.

Even if he has to get it for himself.