Streets of Quibdo, Colombia, 2012
I have fond memories of the Police in Quibdó. They had guns, but rarely needed/used them. I guess, when you live in a small town and the policeman are your best friend/cousin/neighbor/classmate, your relations with them are mostly jovial. I remember having to call the police four times when I lived in Colombia. One time when I was robbed at knife-point by a bunch of 12 year-olds and the other three times were over music.
Yes, music.
It was about 11pm on a Sunday and I had already settled into my bedroom to sleep, because I had a 6am meeting in the morning with the Governor of Chocó.
SIX. A.M. MEETING. WITH. THE. GOVERNOR.
My neighbors, whom I loved dearly, were all blasting music. From across the street I heard Salsa songs, from a few houses down ballenato, from a little further, more salsa. Three different playlists. The music was so loud that it was causing the glass door in my room to shake. It was only 11pm. I told myself, it will be ok. A few more hours and the parties will eventually end. I tried to sleep. It was now 1am. Music still blaring. 3am. Dear God help me. I called the Police. I filed a noise complaint and I told them I lived in Barrio Chambacú. The Police came. For five minutes, the music stopped. It was now blasting again. Why? I called the Police back. They said they were on the way. I don't think they ever came because the music never stopped. I called the police again. It was 4am. The dispatch, recognizing it was me, again, laughed and said I could come in the morning when the office opened to file a complaint. I decided it'd be best to just enjoy the music until it was time to get dressed.
In Quibdó music is a big part of life. Most weekends are spent sitting outside with family and friends, listening to Salsa, Reggeaton and, the occasional Hip-Hop while drinking Ron or Aquardiente. I had grown to love this lifestyle: I even had my favorite salsa songs, and a few Hip-Hop classics, namely, Mary J Blige or lil Wayne, that would occasionally come up on rotation. One song I really enjoyed was "Sawelle." I could understand a few English phrases in the song "I go tell my mama, I go tell my papa," but I couldn't understand the other lyrics and just assumed it was from the Caribbean: maybe a Jamaican Patois.
One day my friends asked me, "What does this song mean?" I explained that the language they were speaking wasn't English, and I couldn't understand the words either because I don't speak Patois. And, we all just left it at that, assuming the song was from the El Caribe.
Fast-forward several months. I had arrived back in the States and I was at a party with friends. "Sawelle" comes on and I'm in shock. I start explaining to my friend that this was my jam back in Colombia and it was a Caribbean song. Imagine my surprise when my friend told me that the song was actually from Nigeria. I couldn't believe this Nigerian song had reached all the way to the small town in Colombia!
My official introduction to Afrobeats occurred while living in an Afro-Colombian town in 2012. The song I heard is actually an Igbo song called "Nwa Baby" and it is a remake of the 1960's song "Sawale", originally by Carl Rex Larson. Every time I hear this song in a party now, it takes me back to my Colombia days!
Enjoy!