Yes, it all was true! (See yesterday's post). And earlier that day, in a ten-floor ride, I found out that the man in the elevator with me grew up in Elizabeth, New Jersey, one town over from my childhood home. The world is strange and mysterious and in spite of all evidence to the contrary, there are benevolent forces at work.
Here is the proof of my meeting with Andrew and Mary.
“Old Doc Jones was a fine old man, fine old man, fine old man.
Old Doc Jones was a fine old man. He told ten thousand lies.”
On my first night in Brazil almost three weeks ago, I went out to see a Samba Rehearsal. Jumped right in with both feet into the waters of this vibrant culture. Yet I confess that since then, except for some lovely dinners out with folks, nights have mostly been back in the hotel preparing for the next day’s class or gathering notes for the classes that just happened or driving to the airport.
So when my good friend Pati here in Rio suggested I go out with her Dad to hear some live music in a restaurant, I was ready. Up we drove into the hills of the Santa Teresa neighborhood, bumping our way on windy cobblestone streets with glimpses of remarkable views and colorfully painted houses. We arrived at the restaurant with outdoor seating and folks gathered in the streets listening to the bass/ mandolin/ guitar/ keyboard band play some lovely choro music. We could stand outside and listen for free or go in and sit at a table for a small cover charge. On a whim, we decided we might as well go in and sat at a table in the corner.
We ordered a beer and settled ourselves down, ready to be swept up by the virtuosic and lilting blend of choro, jazz and other styles. And we were. When the band took a break, a man five feet away at a table next to us turned to me and asked, “Are you Doug Goodkin from The San Francisco School?” And thought, “Bingo! Here’s the moment I’ve been waiting for. The first movie star recognition from someone who saw The Secret Song film!”
But instead he said, “I went there. And so did my sister Mary” nodding to the woman sitting by his side. He was well over six feet tall and would have been much shorter when he left school in 8th grade, but I immediately recognized her. What were the chances that two of my former students would choose to go to the same restaurant on the same night at the next table over thousands of miles from San Francisco and some 16 years after I last saw them!!!!
It got stranger. Andrew (the man) said he thought I was on the same flight as him from Atlanta to Sao Paulo but decided he must have been mistaken and never talked to me then. Take a moment to calculate the odds of that! But when he saw me come into the restaurant, he knew that twice seen meant I was the real deal.
I talked with them during the whole break and it was clear that they were as lovely as adults as they were as students. Then it got a bit weirder as I asked Mary who had been in her graduating class and the first person she mention was Lydia Moog, who had just taken my Orff workshop in Sao Paulo! I said, “Lydia’s here!” Told her about the workshop and showed her a photo.
And speaking of Lydia, I knew her mother as German, but it came up in conversation that her Mom actually went to the British School in Rio as a child! The very same school where I gave a workshop today. Andrew and Mary’s mother is Brazilian and grew up in Rio and now I’m thinking that we should see whether she and Lydia’s mother ever met each other! Who knows?
One of the games I played a lot with the kids at the school was called Old Doc Jones. You told an improbable story right on the edge of believability and then sang the Old Doc Jones song. The listeners had to put their thumb up if they thought it was true, down if false. If ONE thing in the story wasn’t true, then it would be false. Then the storyteller had to fess up to the real deal.
So what do you think? Did all of the above happen? Every bit? (Except for Andrew/ Mary’s mother and Lydia’s mother meeting—that’s just conjecture for now). Thumbs up or down?
I’ll tell you tomorrow.
It takes a long time to hug 50 people one at a time. But having done so to close the 2-day course in Sao Paulo, I can testify that it was the right thing to do. Just before that, we had gathered around the piano and at the suggestion of one of the students, sang the old Jazz Standard Side By Side. I have a repertoire of openers and closers for my courses, but this was the first time I ever ended the course like this. I did my best to feed them the English lines while singing, having had no time to write them on the board. Before singing, I explained (with my translator) the meaning of the words. With a shaky voice and trickling tears, I told them that amidst all our troubles and sorrows, all kinds of weather and the sky falling on our heads, we have no choice but to "travel along, singing our song, side by side." It’s the only way I know how to survive the shitstorm in my country and a strategy I’ve cultivated for the 45 years at my school, through good times and bad.
The suggestion to sing the song surely came from what happened just before that— the showing of The Secret Song film with Portuguese sub-titles. I believe I’ve seen this film with some 20 different audiences, but this was the first time it received a standing ovation. Again, no surprise that these Brazilian folks value the work, the art, the community feeling, the love for children, between children, between fellow teachers teaching the children. That the film reveals. Again, extra special because alum SF Student Lydia was there, taking her own walk back into her time at school that she clearly values so much.
And before that? A beautiful small-group improvised movement activity, five fabulous pieces from five continents using the same five notes, some powerful Body Music in honor of International Body Music Day and a spontaneous Brazilian music jam session during the break. This has happened so much in these courses, folks looking for every opportunity to make music, whether in the formal class or the informal free time. This rarely happens at American Orff Conferences and in retrospect, it’s weird that we music teachers don’t take time to make music outside the class.
So now back in Rio, a hotel fronting the beachfront, which should be a delicious invitation to get out and take it all in. But first I had to complete the notes to close out the Sao Paulo course, keep working on the Hong Kong visa and book a flight, think about this afternoon’s workshop with eight people in an International British School. Work is a pleasure and pleasure is a pleasure, but I have to work at remembering to leave time for the sheer pleasure. Maybe tomorrow?
Need I report that it was another glorious day with my new 50+ folks in the Sao Paulo workshop? Made especially sweet as it included a student I taught for 11 years in The San Francisco School and hadn’t seen since she graduated in 2009 16 years ago. She out-of-the-blue wrote to me just before my trip to Brazil asking if I know of any music study/gatherings in Brazil as she was coming here for an Urban Studies project. I mentioned my workshop, she signed up and there she was today, playing the Orff instruments she hasn’t for a long time, singing, dancing, improvising, playing body percussion.
Equally sweet was to share the day with a daughter of a student who didn’t yet exist when I first taught her Mom in San Francisco in 2006. She was born in 2007, the Mom returned to SF in 2010 and again in 2018 to complete her studies and the daughter, now 17, is a virtuoso recorder player winning competitions worldwide. I improvised recorder with her today on a simple piece with Orff instrument accompaniment, just so I can put on my resume that I did for when she becomes internationally famous. :-) Most importantly, a lovely human being who clearly had a lot of fun playing music and dancing in ways quite different from the virtuosic recorder world.
And the day yet more satisfying having another one of the SF Orff Course graduates translating for me, meeting up with another 6 graduates and another 5 who I knew from Orff Afrique. Alongside another 6 folks who just took the Tatui Jazz Course with me and on and on and on. One woman came up and reminded me that I worked with her in Munich at an International School and then in China at another. Another said she met me in Salzburg in 1995—30 years ago!! The casual tossing about of all these decades is more and more commonplace as the years pile up, but always astonishing and a bit sobering when I realize that no one will ever say to me, “I met you 30 years ago in Sao Paulo in 2025!!!” Although who knows? It actually is possible.
I went on for excellent pizza with eight of these old and new friends. There was a moment when they were all happily chatting in Portuguese and suddenly, Time seemed to stop. There was an enhanced sense of Presence in the moment and while chewing on my arugula/ mozzarella pizza, the thought struck: “I don’t ever want this to stop.” I think I have made peace with the notion of mortality, especially as none of us has a choice in the matter. But truth be told, I don’t want this unbridled joy to ever end. My body in this moment felt wholly radiant, my heart full, my mind clear, not a muscle or nerve in my body calling for attention, not an unmet desire whining for fulfillment, not a restless heart yearning for love. It was all present in that moment and if I was a devout Christian convinced that heavenly angels awaited me to join their choir and float on the clouds in pure bliss, I still don’t think I could imagine a heaven greater than this.
Of course, the Buddhists would say that I even have to let go of heaven, even if I spent a lifetime working to arrive. But for now, I believe I’ll just sit in its radiance and bask in its light and warmth. And then, joy of all joys, wake up to a second day with the same people!!
I often have wondered how culture might change if all the billboards advertising things we don’t need had wise sayings that reminded us of what we do need. In some ways, some Facebook posts have become just that. Here are three that attracted my attention and help steer my intentions as we begin this new month of February.
It’s a sunny day in Sao Paulo. Even in the windowless room where I soon will be teaching another 50 Brazilian music teachers, I’m facing the sunshine of their smiles. Just by being alive, we can’t help but do some harm—ask the animals and plants we eat, the fossil fuels we burn, for starters. But to minimize harm and maximize healing, that’s in our power. “First do no harm” is the Hippocratic oath of doctors, but shouldn’t we all make that vow? Teachers, politicians, corporative executives? No one is exempt from that responsibility.
“Do no harm” is the negative flip side of the positive “do some good.” Building the new patterns that serve life, both individually and collectively, is precisely what I feel this Orff music teaching is about. Next week, school begins in Brazil, so today’s workshop will offer models, activities, games, songs to welcome the children at the beginning of their year, assure them that they belong, will be seen and heard, will be valued.
It is impossible for me to wholly pretend that the dark cloud of Mordor in my land is not there. But as I’ve said before recently, I refuse to let it wholly darken my mind, refuse it entrance into my heart and soul and choose to face the right direction—those smiling faces of the adults and children I teach. That is what has sustained my hope and will continue to do so, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary.
And so February, here we are. Let’s go!
What’s wrong with this picture? Here I am with a free morning in Rio de Janeiro and instead of enjoying a coffee at the Girl From Ipanema café and walking on the beach, I’m in this little apartment working on my computer, trying to catch up with the business side of being an adult human.
Having spent and continuing to spend so many days playing like a child in music classes and workshops, it’s easy to get spoiled and think that life should be a constant carnival of fun and games. But none of this happens without the boring bits of organizing the courses and classes, booking the flights, filling out the Visa forms, figuring out the payment procedures, gathering and sending the notes and yet more.
It’s satisfying to write the books that carry the work further, but when you’ve created your own publishing company, there is a maddening amount of inventory, invoices, arranging mailings, communicating with distribution centers and dealers, paying royalties to other authors and yet more. Like writing the books! Then come the editors, graphic designers, lay-out people, printers, etc.
Then all the summer course work checking in on registration, communicating with the faculty team, the site organizer, filling out the paperwork for the national Orff Association. And of course, updating the Website, advertising the courses/ workshops/ concerts/ books/ podcast on social media or through my personal mailing list. A few hours of actually living the work in the workshop, course or concert, only made possible by the endless hours preparing for it and following through to complete it. It can be maddening (especially the Visa forms!) and exhausting.
But hey, it comes with the territory. It is a kind of proving ground for how much you care about the work, how much boring details you’re willing to sit with to get to the joy. I got as far as I could go with the Hong Kong Visa and then treated myself to finishing my book lying in a hammock on the porch of my Rio apartment. There’s something about a hammock that says, “Relax! You’ve earned it!”
And so I will. At least until the timer rings to tell me to finish my packing and head off to the airport.
I had taken my computer out briefly in the airport before flying to Rio and it wouldn’t boot up. I assumed it was out-of-charge. So when I arrived in the apartment rented for me for the next four days, I plugged it in, saw the green light and went to turn it on and… nothing. I tried out my new philosophy of not worrying about what might happen—ie, it would never turn on again, I would finish my next 9 days in Brazil without it and everything I might need on it and maybe lose all the things—too many— I didn’t have backed up. So I passed a morning without it, shopped for a little food and my friend Beth picked up at 3:00. And off we went to…
· The Mall in Rio— Not my first choice of the first place to visit in the city where samba groups are gathering for Carnaval and enticing beaches are a taxi ride away. Everyone in a Mall seems the same— all there to get stuff. A marked contrast to the Samba rehearsal, jazz club, Hindu temple, Zen retreat or Orff workshop. But I needed the Apple Store!
· Too Old— That’s what the Apple Store guy said when he refused to work on my machine. I think he was referred to the machine, but maybe to me! Planned obsolescence sucks!
· Ignored by Jesus—Coming out of the Apple Store, I looked up and there was Jesus up on the mountain looking over the city. I asked for help, figuring if he could turn water into wine, he could get my computer to turn on. Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered. Though I suppose one could make the case for him helping my friend Beth remember that she knew a guy who worked on Macs and I left my computer with him and 24 hours later, it was up and running! Jose Carlos is my new personal Messiah.
So maybe the Lord works in mysterious ways, leading me to Jose Carlos. But I doubt it. Frankly, if one felt a need to name a Creator with omnipotent powers (I don’t), one should notice that he/she/they endowed us with the capacity to think, feels and help each other. As far as I can see, that’s all we have to work with. Pray if you like—and I certainly petition the gods even when they let me down—but better spend your time improving yourself and your fellow humans.
· Life without computers— Who would we be without them? Scary to even ask that question, since their presence in our lives is a mere 30 years out of 100,000 or so. But how quickly we adapt to the available technologies and build our lives around them so that their absence becomes unimaginable.
· Drinking soap—This I will never forget. I grabbed what I thought was a small plastic bottle of water from the house and in my workshop yesterday at the Brazilian Institute for Music and Education, I got ready to teach again after a break and took a drink. It turned out to be dish soap!!! I had to excuse myself to run and spit it out and my translator Beth was laughing so hard, imagining bubbles coming out of my mouth next time I spoke.
· Funny— I am. Or used to be. Beth, my Orff student both in California and Brazil, is helping me remember because she really cracks up at my comments. Which inspires me to make more. A bit sad that I haven’t felt permission to release that fellow in a while, but I like him a lot and am inspired to bring him back to the forefront.
· Humidity—Rio is hot, but also humid. I realized that very few of the hot places I’ve been in the last year—China, Australia, New Orleans, etc. — were humid. Heat and humidity mean that you take a cold shower and five minutes later, you’re sweating. I had forgotten. But my wife hasn’t. She is resolved never to visit a hot and humid country again.
· Taxis—There are a lot! Reminds me of New York.
· 50’s New York—In fact, a lot in Rio reminds me of 1950’s New York. Except for those amazing views of Corcovado. And the beachfront.
Meanwhile, today was yet another soul-lifting day with 50 new people filling the room with such joy, laughter, playfulness and beauty. The same day I got a letter from my AOSA organization that my proposal to present at next year’s conference was rejected because I didn’t score enough points on their rubricked proposal form. Excuse me while I go outside and scream. Or vomit. Such a spectacular contrast to my experience here, feeling like Charlie Brown forever hopeful I’ll finally kick the football in my own country and there I am, flat on my back again. Oh America, is there any hope for us? Meanwhile, Viva Brasil!!!!
The days are whizzing by, each one a lifetime in itself, so trying to play a little catch-up here. My one-day course in Brasilia for another 50 teachers was in an echoey church basement. No Orff instruments, a small bag of dubious percussion instruments and a very funky keyboard. No matter. I always say all I need is a circle of people with a beating heart, open mind, receptive body and a working voice and indeed, it was enough. The closing spiral song especially evocative in that acoustic cathedral-like space. Taken to El Paso Mexican restaurant by my translator and her husband, two lovely people who helped me pass a memorable evening. This part of the city reminded me a bit of Singapore and in terms of modernity, the parallels apply.
The next day, the course organizer and his 17-year-old niece who learned English by watching TV took me on a tour of this interesting city. Using yesterday’s outline, my comments.
· Government tour — Brasilia is an interesting place. It is a city that was built intentionally to become the new Brazilian capital and as such, is quite modern. I went on a tour of the Government Buildings and was struck by many details of Brazilian history that I want to investigate more. The relatively recent decades of dictatorship, the copycat January 8th, 2023 invasion of the building so similar to our January 6th, the time-line of human rights progress. So interesting how the latter seems to follow a universal pattern of what differences people are willing to finally accept as “normal” and when. It seems to go from religion to race to women’s right to children’s rights to disabilities to gay rights to trans rights. Of course, WAY too many people who didn’t get these memos and are still determined to target some or all of these groups.
· Capybara —Name the world’s largest rodent in 5 seconds—GO! Well, I could because I used to draw this animal, the capybara, as a kid. But I had never seen one live. So when my hosts mentioned that there were many in Brasilia, it became the sole focus of the city tour. We went to a riverside where they said sometimes as many as 50 would be roaming around. But there wasn’t one in sight. Until there was. One. But it was enough. They’re big! And apparently this one was still growing. The next time my wife complains about a mouse in our house, I’ll remind her to be grateful that we don’t have a capybara infestation.
· Climbing the Banyan Tree—There was a large Banyan Tree with some ropes and chains to help you climb it. I climbed trees all the time as a kid and once as an adult (after which I wrote a poem about it). So sure, why not? (That photo is not me, but I’m waiting for my host to send on.)
· Three Wishes— There were two “handles” on the tree and you’re supposed to hold on to them and make three wishes. Of course, I’m not supposed to reveal the details, but I can say that following the airline advice of putting on my own oxygen mask before assisting others, the first wish was a personal one that would allow me to keep working as I both must do and love to do, the second one for the happiness of my daughters and the third one for the awakening of intelligence and caring in my country.
• Portuguese—… is a language I wish I could speak while in Brazil. As I
always tell myself in Italy, it’s close enough to Spanish but as I always
forget once I’m there, not really. Oddly enough, the airport folks I need to
speak with briefly spoke neither English nor Spanish and it was like the old
days of traveling, lots of gesturing, pointing and probably raised voices.
But I managed to get on the plane and arrived in Rio around 9:30.
If you’ve noticed that I’ve gone a few days without posting, it’s because my computer refused to start and it looked possible that it never would and I’d be stranded the next 10 days in Brazil without it. Never mind losing so much that mostly is not backed up.
Meanwhile, life went on. I flew from Sao Paolo to Brasilia to Rio, taught two one-day courses and in one hour, will teach yet another one to a different group of 50 people. Here are some topics I would have written about and maybe it’s best to just list them and leave my comments to your imagination. Or not. (If the latter, I’ll fill them in tomorrow.) Just want to say I’m happy—and relieved— to be back!
· Life without computers
· The Mall in Rio
· Too Old
· Ignored by Jesus
· Drinking soap
· Funny
· Humidity
· Taxis
· 50’s New York
· Tattoos
· Acai
· Capybara
· Government tour
· Climbing the Banyan Tree
· Three Wishes—put on oxygen mask before assisting others.
· Opening the door.
