I Got Rhythm: Banging the Drums With SambAsia
On that Sunday morning, my head was throbbing, my eyeballs hurt and I was wheezing for water. I was hungover, and the last thing I wanted to do was trek out to 798 Art District to partake in some drum fest.
I became increasingly unenthused when I arrived to a large empty room. I pasted on a pained smile for the lone Chinese man there, who was busy setting up the equipment. He was sporting an impressive head of dreadlocks.
Five minutes later, though, a pack of nearly 20 kids had turned up – some bookish and nervous, others more arty and relaxed. They all looked utterly delighted to be there, especially once they’d gotten their hands on drumsticks.
At last, the main teacher – a tanned, slender Chinese man with robust biceps and a shaved head – clapped for order. He sectioned us off into different rows: small drums up front, the medium-sized ones in the middle, and the huge ones in the rear.
First lesson on the list? How to move. He taught us to count beats, and step to the right and then the left. The majority of my classmates were giggly and uncoordinated, but the atmosphere was convivial and encouraging.
I noticed that his assistants, like him, all moved with an aggressive rhythm, whether they were striding across the room or beating away on their instruments. But it wasn’t just their body language that distinguished them – they also dressed differently, with tousled hair, hippie skirts and scuffed canvas sneakers.
More students continued to shuffle in, and now that we were warmed up, the teacher began to feed us tidbits about the history of samba. He explained that samba is a Brazilian form of percussion, but that SambAsia – a school that originated in San Francisco – blends music and dance traditions from both Brazil and Asia.
Before we could get too comfortable, he asked us to pick up our drumsticks. He taught us the proper way to grip and thump them. And then came the music – a hypnotic, energizing bundle of beats that willed my booty to shake without even realizing it.
Every time I fell behind or wasn’t rapping my drum with enough gusto, a SambAsia member would emerge and guide me back on my way. No student was made to feel self-conscious or inept; even when singled out, we were grinning all the while.
By the time two hours had passed, I had bruises on my thigh (the heavy drums had left their mark) and my arms felt limp. But guess what? I wasn’t feeling so tired anymore. Indeed, I was ready to face the world again … drum roll, please.
Drum to your heart’s content with SambAsia every Sunday at the UCCA from 2-4pm. Beginners welcome. www.sambasiabeijing.com
Photos: SambAsia
