Taureg People of the Sahara

We drove out into the Sahara from Timbuctu, Mali. The 4wheel drive vehicles ripped through the sand as we raced the setting sun. We knew little of what to expect, only that the Taureg people would be there and that we would be able to meet them and interact. The Taureg speak French aside from there tribal language and so we would be able to have some conversation. I was curious to see what commonalities I might share with the Taureg people, also known and the "Free People". They call themselves this because they own very little and have no permanent home. They are not tied to any particular patch of land like a farmer is and they roam for months at a time in search of salt. The only animals they own are camels because they require very little maintenance and allow the people to travel long distances in the hot Sahara sand.

When we arrived at their tented camp, we were greeted by singing and sword dancing. Tom, our resident professor and cultural interpreter on the trip had told me earlier that day about the Taureg men and how mysterious they were and that above all I should mingle with them but be careful. I understood what he meant as I watched the men riding their camels along the horizon, their heads wrapped in crowns of fabric and their beautiful skin glowing with the vibrant colors of the sunset. As if under a spell I gazed at them, watched their movements and wondered what it would be like to be a free person. In their eyes is a peace and freedom of which I have never known, a being so transparent that it captivates every sensation with its presence.

They made a dinner for us beneath a million star sky. We, a group of 23 Stanford University alumni and our respective guides, sat on rugs rolled out on the sand and ate millet with our hands. The soft grains dissolved in my mouth as I relished the sensation of eating food from my fingertips. Utensils are superfluous in the desert and so are individual plates. In Mali families share from one large dish, each member eating the food that is directly in front of them. The right hand in used to eat and greet and illustrate points with gestures as is done in all parts of the world...talking with that hands. The left hand is the "dirty hand" used for wiping your ass and that's about it. I kept having to remind myself not to use my left hand. I didn't want to offend my gracious hosts.

The men played enchanting, trance like music. The people danced, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, moving their arms gracefully through the air, slow, slithering like a snake under a snake-charmers command. One man played a sort of guitar like instrument while the other pulsed beats on a drum. I even sang with them and made up a song for them. It was my gift to them for letting me into their world. It was their gift to me to share that moment of musical understanding.

the show

During many moments
sounds soaring from me
a musical machine
my heart was
flying
way above the room
and my smile was
so big
that it almost fell
off my face.


Thanks
for all the support,
the love
the meaning you bring
to the songs that I sing
thank you for the moments
that make me
brighter.

Casablanca's Mile High Mosque.

The Mosque in Casablanca is the most beautiful piece of architecture in the whole city.
It is the second largest mosque in the world. It sits on the Edge of the sea and stretches up high into the crisp blue sky.
People sit along the boardwalk, veiled woman, men in jalabes, some western clothing, smiles, stares, white folks, tourists, Muslims, photographs and flashes of crashes of culture.

The building was constructed through funding from the local Muslim community.
In each tile and brick is a peace of the peoples of Morocco.
The square shape of the tower is there to differentiate The Moroccan Muslims from the Arabic Muslims.
I wish I could have stayed there longer to understand why it was so important to keep Muslims divided in sections.

Romance: Gone in 60 seconds

It was there and now its gone
It was a sad and bitter song
to see you
curled into a forever of possibilities
bunches
of truth crumpled
in hands that make
art
soft and smooth

We watched the scramble of people below
our eyes still dry from the morning light
And there in the space
between shoulder mountains
my lips pressed in to you
And i cried inside because soon
you would be leaving

The moments we had
temporary bliss
left in memories fading
into days and moonbeams

I will romantisize you
Raise all that you are
up to that sweet
transient place
Where Short-term romances
live
Where I loved you
Just before you fucked me
Over

Those short spurts of moments
Fragments
where I loved you
As a man
As a human I thought
I loved you
As a visitor
A lonely explorer
Through mangled caverns
Of my still desire.

People You Should Know Showcase...

Hello friends.

Happy New Year and best wishes for 2006!
I have just returned from almost two months away in Africa and Mexico.
I had a spectacular trip. My mind has been filled with incredible
images and my heart inspired by the wondrous world we occupy.
While abroad, I had the opportunity to sing with all kinds of different people:
the nomadic Tuareg dessert peoples in Mali, an 8 piece "high life"
band in Ghana, and a rockin electronica trio in Mexico City.

Now, back home in NYC, the song still stirs strong within me.
I wrote a new song in espanol and am playing a new electric guitar
from South Africa...
I bit you'll never guess what its made out of.
Come to CBGB's 313 tomorrow night to find out!
Hope to see you there!
much love,

Liah