Chekere Land

So yesterday I went roaming around campus looking for a good place to practice the chekere. I didn't want to be near anyone, and I didn't want to get too close to the dorms, or the President's house, or the security building, or the offices. I eventually ended up in one of the far reaches of the campus, past the swampy mosquito-laden lake, up an embankment, over a drainage ditch and right next to the freeway in a grassy/wooded area that looked like the dumping grounds for giant slabs of concrete. Kind of cool in a desolate/urban kind of way, but also kind of creepy since there was absolutely no one around to hear me scream, for instance. But it was here that I found the peace and quiet and isolation I wanted to practice.

Now, I knew the chekere was loud when we practiced inside, but outside, it's even louder. I was getting major echo-age just off the trees, and I had to put on earplugs. Oh, and did I mention it's hard to play? It took me a while just to get a feel for it, but once I was starting to get a sound out of it, it was kind of cool. And then I started getting into it, and was beginning to think about some form stuff--like how to hold it, and where to put my hands, and how to extend my fingers and which muscles to use. And then I remembered that I shouldn't be holding it too close to the middle part because that's where it's weakest and it could break, and then I started to get worried that I'd break it, and how bad I'd feel if I broke it. And then I kind of lost the momentum I had, but also came to the realization that what I really ought to do is get my own chekere, and then I too can become a chekere master! Or something like that--we'll see.