Of music and time travel

If Music be the fuel of travel, fill my tank and let it play.
May I traverse the world.
Take me on journeys uncharted, through its jungles and cities.
Tickle my taste buds, infuse me with the culture and its people.
Yet, to revisit sweet memories of days gone by is the quickest journey of all.

Ever hear a song that transports you to a time and place in your past? You recall with joy or remorse the mood of that era and like deja vu relive the experience virtually.
Siblings on holiday from boarding school. Black out nights, seated on the veranda under the canopy of a night sky illuminated by the moon and sprinkled with glowing stars. Engrossed in the tales of the school term we lean in. Suddenly electricity returns, blinding our eyes, the TV blips on arresting a conversation in mid sentence (who forgot to off the TV after the lights went out?). We dash to the sitting room, it's Thursday night, 10:00pm - time for "The Old Fox".

Music by ABBA transports me to sunny afternoons in the mid 80's, on Katonga road. In a quiet house, its occupants reading or taking a nap the music plays that is, until side A is over and the tape waits in silence to be turned over to side B. The pocket size cassette tapes made of plastic with the band photo inserted in the front jacket; 4 Swedes, 2 men and 2 women. The ladies; a blond and a brunette dressed in Maxi's, the men; in large collar white shirts and belly bottoms.

Dad's music collection neatly stacked in a red mini briefcase - our source of entertainment. Record albums the size of dinner plates lie in a pile below the record player. Favorites on the top: Bee Gees, Shalama, Michael Jackson, George Benson, Culture Club, Boney M, Donna Summer...

Recently, feeling a little home sick, I turned to YouTube for some Ugandan music. As I listened to Samali Matovu's "Omukwano" I was transported to Nakawa market on a hot Friday afternoon. A fish monger scales tilapia for a customer while a skinny brown dog naps under a tree. Two boda-bodas' are packed at the road side their owners eager to pick customers from the taxi that just halted at the stage. Across the road a special hire driver leans back in the driver's seat of a white Corolla, he contemplates the possibility of the next client. A lady emerges from the market salon with a green bucket full of grey water which she pours on the soil, it creates a map on the ground and quickly sinks in swiftly, the ground cools off with an "aaaaah!".

Hajat Madina sings "Bibuuza" and the taxi headed to Serere stops shortly after Kumi hospital. The driver runs into a kiosk. The shop verandas have open sacks of millet, sugar and rice stationed in front of each door, the shop keepers hidden behind wooden counters. A man walks past with a small radio close to his ear, he is cajoled by the ring of a bicycle bell behind him "egaali!, egaali!"
Further ahead 2 little topless boys run across the potholed street sticks in hand, they laugh to their hearts content. A woman wrapped in a green and yellow kitenge shouts "orwa emotoka!" (watch out for the cars!) the children disappear behind the wall. A cobbler mends shoes in a corridor, while 2 shops up, a tailor rocks his Singer sowing machine, his finished products dangle on the clothes line to his left.

I look out my window and see the neighbor walking her dog, she stoops to scoop the do and it starts to snow. I return to my present circumstances, reminded that we are oceans apart. Time to get on with the task at hand.
It's powerful, it entertains, enriches, relaxes... it takes you places but right now,  it makes me homesick.

It's complicated!

While friends sipped glasses of ice tea over the weekends, we spent ours driving through neighborhoods in search of accommodation closer to work. The exercise of house hunting brought two issues to light. One, "chocolate" doesn't usually work in your favor so make a "dress statement". Two, proximity is a sure recipe for rivalry.

Stress from the daily commute to and from Washington D.C, Maryland and Centreville Virginia was beginning to make ER a possible destination. So, we made the decision to find a place closer to our work locations, that way we would not go crazy trying to beat traffic in a rush to pick the kids. With summer around the corner and Craig's list flooded with houses and apartments for rent and sale, we surfed our way through North Potomac, Bethesda, Rockville, Gaithersburg and other interesting neighborhoods in Maryland. Because of high housing prices and smaller spaces, Virginia and all its nice pockets slowly got scrapped off the list. Ballston, East Falls church, West Falls church, Vienna and Dunn Loring were darn expensive (clearly proximity to the capitol keeps housing prices extra high)

On our search I tripped over the "dress statement" block. After visiting a few apartments I became conscious of my family's dress sense. For the most part, we hopped in the car never minding much about presentation; I shouldn't be judged by the way I dress just as long as I can pay right? Well, a house showing is like an interview; presentation, demeanor and confidence are a few of the aspects that determine your candidacy. It's important everywhere. I was often perplexed when friends 'dressed up', their children's faces reflected like mirrors in the noon day sun. Clothes were almost always new, and yet we were just having a cup of tea at home. I on the other hand considered a bath and clean clothes sufficient, nothing fancy. It's just us right? Wrong!
Let me break it down.
Being black is a step or two, or three behind the starting line, Zimmerman can tell you more about that. Now, being black with a strange accent leaves you in the locker room. But being black, with a strange accent and poor dress sense? That right there is simply a non starter! You don't even have a locker room. One has got to set some pretty high standards in order to stand out from the crowd and presentation is at the top of the list. The dress label is the key, anything other than the "right" high end label will get you locked out of friendships, business deals, jobs and dinners (to mention but a few). Certain styles are associated with certain kinds of people. So before you rush out on a shopping spree be sure to hit the "right" stores.You've got to make a statement before you open your mouth. The message is "I may work long and hard, I may even 'lose it' for a few seconds but I've got this!" (use index finger and point from head to toe with attitude)
That my friends is the dress statement!

We found a place to stay in Maryland and that is when I also discovered that Maryland and Virginia are rivals. Virginia is the proud, nose in the air lady. She knows she is young and pretty and has a taste for good, expensive, classy things.Population is mostly white. Maryland is the older, flabbier lady who knows more but doesn't look all that. The illegal immigrants hide in her quarters which they can't do in Virginia because there are cops at every turn. A friend likened Maryland to Kikuubo and Virginia to Kampala road - that put things in some perspective. I had no idea.

I don't expect many visitors from VA and I kinda like my dress sense, so that's not changing anytime soon but it's been good learning experience.