WEEK 3: A Coffee Cacophony

It’s 10am. I’m drinking coffee with my head swirling. The sun begins its defrost cycle, the neighbours white and ginger cat has been let out and begins its morning prowl, and I really begin to miss my mum. Yes, that wonderful wench has gone back to soggy Blighty to begin her own adventures.

In July 2017 (remember 2017? Lol) I was booking our flights. The agent I booked them through had a cheapish deal that included an outbound flight through the night, where sleep is for most flyers a cramped frustrating nightmare, and mum’s return flight, departing Goa at 4.05am. Yes A.M. I remember thinking back in July “ooooooof! that’s intense” with a slight evil giggle and a sense of the Will Adam trademark detachment. As humans, who experience time only in the moment, the future can sometimes seem a strange concept. We plan, imagine, envision, hope, then the time arrives and it may or may not look like we hoped. I dreamt of India as a boy. I prayed for India as a man. And now I’m here. In the present. In the moment. That hilarious 4.05am flight has gone. That was a moment, too. Saying goodbye to Kal and Clinton and the Strickland Row gang (and everyone else, love you) was a future thought, then it was a moment’s experience, then it was gone. And in all of the heartbreak and hilarity and intensity and dullness and frustration and stress and security and love I’ve felt in the past 2 months, I feel more ecstatically alive in the present than I have ever felt. I tangibly realise now that the future and past are just concepts, thoughts. Some people want to live in past thoughts. Some people want to live in future thoughts. But neither will help. The present is where the soul comes alive, and when you begin to truly live there it’s like a beached whale caught back in the tide of the ocean. Where you belong. Be present. Be here. Don’t worry.

So now that mum has gone, it’s time to get down to work. I’ve spent this week working in the senior boys home. Once they get home from school they have a quick wash and then its homework and study time until 4.30pm. Here I sit down with the boys and do group reading and comprehension, or sit down and help individual boys who may be struggling with English or maths. It’s a great experience as all the boys are invested, maybe because I’m still a novelty, so I have their attention (which really helps when I’m teaching them about apostrophes, colons and commas). On Saturday I helped one of the boys with his music theory homework, so there are still some things that never change.

On Friday nights and Saturday nights, one of the rooms in the senior boys home is host to the church’s band rehearsal. This is currently where I’m spending most of my planning and envisioning. The musicians and singers are fantastic – mostly self-taught and giving it everything. Rohid the drummer always impresses me with his time keeping (which apparently was a problem before (special shout-out to Daniel Philip for his huge help there)) and confidence. The main thing is that they need direction and unity, especially in intros and outros – the two most important parts of a song. Songs would taper in and taper out. So we’ve been working on clarity and teamwork in those moments: 4 sticks from the drummer and everyone is in; nice big ending where everyone crashes out together and on the same chord. Last Sunday (4th Feb) they kicked that out of the park – the songs they did had leadership and confidence. It was a noticeable difference.

This week I decided to introduce a new song, and what better song to pick than ‘This Is Living’ by Young&Free. This song brought a new sound for the team – one which involved synths, dance beats and regimented discipline of when to play and when not to play. The team loved the song (it’s hard not to) and were all over it. We sang it for the first time yesterday in the service and church turned into a carnival. Dancing. Singing. Whooping. It was pure joy. So much so that when it ended, Pastor Martin got us all to sing it again.

I’m so humbled by the team. Most of them are from the children homes, don’t know their parentage and are considered outcasts of the social ‘caste’ system. Yet they learn and lead with the purest joy I’ve ever experienced. I marvel. Pure life belongs “to such as these”.

As the song says: “black and white turn to colour all around”… and it’s not just this morning’s coffee.

Sidenotes:

• Mum got home safely after her 23-hour journey. Her leg, while still badly swollen from her fall on 20th Jan, has been scanned in A&E and there are no traces of breakage or tearing.
• One boy, Pawan, had previously given up playing lead guitar in the band but came back to rehearsal this week and played for the first time again on Sunday. You can tell the band look up to him, and so his return helped bring the whole team together.
• Next new song – “Elohim”.
• I got on a little public bus on Friday, which was full, then 1km down the road 34 school children got on. It’s possibly the most Indian experience I’ve had so far.
• Big thanks go out to Dave and Anne Adams for picking mum up from the train station and looking after her, and to Paula Dring for taking her to A&E. You guys are family.
• Big thanks also go out to Kal, Clinton and Miggy for continually supporting me and holding up my arms, and to all those who have donated and provide continuing financial support.
• My work here is voluntary and so your giving is what is keeping me able to stay here. If you’d like to give, you can do so via this JustGiving link or send an email to hello@willadammusic.com and I can provide my UK bank details. I will be hugely grateful for any contribution.