The Welcome Table

hello hello hello hello!

2008-08-22T11:58:00.000-04:00

Greetings from Tom's River, NJ!!!

Love, Dan, Colin, Elena, Saskia and Sonia

In Search of Son Jarocho

2008-07-24T13:34:00.021-04:00

What a musically satisfying summer this is turning out to be! In June I spent a little time in Veracruz, Mexico, where I soaked up the music and ate great food. Thanks to my friend Beto, I was lucky enough to take in some really joyful music-making. Check out our Colás medley...

For more information about the groups in the video:

Grupo Estanzuela

www.grupoestanzuela.com

Son de la Esquina

www.lauderiaestanzuela.com.mx

Son Candela

www.comosuena.com/semblanzassoncandela.html

Our version of Colás featuring our friends the VillaLobos brothers can be found on ¡Nueva York!

What the Goose is up to this summer...

2008-07-14T10:17:00.002-04:00

Our old friend Father Goose is starting up dance parties of his own this summer. Here are a little video footage of him and his band at Madison Square Park, NYC, singing Bam Bam from his latest album It's A Bam Bam Diddly!

For those of you in the NYC area, the Goose will be taking the party to Lincoln Center's Midsummer Night Swing this Saturday, July 19. Stay up to date on where else he'll be at fathergoose.net .

¡Baile!

2008-06-26T17:46:00.004-04:00

It's been a while since any of us have posted... here's a glimpse of what we've been up to... We've been having a blast holding a few listening parties around the NYC, sharing the music from our new album Nueva York. Here we are behind the scenes before the listening party at Hue-Man Bookstore up in Harlem. Joaquin and I are warming up before the show, playing Compadre Pedro Juan:

And this is Sonia, Joaquin, Silvia, Bernardo, Colin, Elena, and I singing El Canario in the store as friends from the neighborhood danced and sang along. What an afternoon!

More great photos from that day can be found by clicking here.

Elena on the road

2008-03-20T13:30:00.011-04:00

Hello again, DZ blog readers!

The band has been traveling tirelessly these past two months on the first half of our spring tour -- and, as we've just finished playing a show in my beloved city of Chicago (kinda my second home), I wanted to take some time to tell you about some of the cool things we've seen and done...

We've hit many different parts of the country in the last two months, including the Southwest, our very own borough of Brooklyn, snowy New England (at the lovely venue Higher Ground), DZ's first appearance in Ithaca, NY, Houston, Tennessee, Colorado, and finally Chicago. As always, we've met some wonderful and interesting people along the way (in addition to our great audiences, of course) and seen some cool sights. Here are some of the highlights for me...

In Albuquerque, we were hosted by the impressive State of New Mexico-run National Hispanic Cultural Center. This organization put together a jam session for us and some local musicians, and a few of us braved a free samba class. (No pictures, sorry! Too busy dancing.) We also ate delicious green chilies at Duran's Pharmacy in Albuquerque's Old Town.

At the wonderful Rialto Theater in Tucson, AZ, we met up with our old friend Salvador Duran, a local musician and artist. A couple of us checked out his studio, which sits in a strip of artist studios near the train tracks in Tucson. In addition to playing music with us, Salvador is finishing up a mural for the Rialto Theater -- check out Salvador and his mural below.

In Houston, the band hung out at the Ripley Center for an evening and jammed with some talented, young, up-and-coming artists. These performers eventually joined us on stage for our big performance at the Wortham Center!

However, my number one highlight of the spring tour thus far has been a group from Memphis, TN, called Watoto De'Afrika. This amazing group, founded and run by Donald O'Conner, works to introduce Afro-centric performing arts and literary styles to African-American children in and around Memphis. Around 65 children and young adults joined our DZAF performance at the Germantown Performing Arts Center, dressed in colorful clothing for a Ugandan dance of their own and beautiful church garb for "Down By the Riverside" and "Catch That Train." (See pics below.) Check out the website -- they will be putting on a performance entirely made up of DZ tunes this summer!

Finally, in Chicago, we were joined by our good friend Derick Grant (tap dancer) and the wonderful group Sones de Mexico. Sones is an extremely talented and popular Chicago-based group that also functions as a non-profit musical education organization in the city.

On a personal note, I used to work alongside various community organizations in South and West Chicago, and our show at the Harris Theater allowed me to revisit those areas. While re-exploring the city, I also took a minute to visit the Obama Volunteer Headquarters in downtown Chicago. No matter what you're political views are, I maintain that Barack Obama, who began as a community organizer in South Chicago, is an incredibly inspiring and dedicated advocate for a politically-aware, justice-oriented, and equality-driven America. Nobody's perfect, but I am greatly moved by his eloquence and willingness to speak frankly about our country. Here are some photos from the headquarters (which, by the way, are open to volunteers at any time!).

Ok, well, it's back to Chicago for me. Hope you enjoyed the update, and we look forward to seeing you soon!

Cheers,
Elena

Opening photo of Elena by Gala Narezo

introducing john!

2008-02-19T16:14:00.008-05:00

check it out: i got new obnoxious argyle socks!
everyone else in DZAF is usually sporting a pair of argyles,
so I’m pretty happy about this Christmas gift.

Hello Dan Zanes and Friends friends…and friends of friends,

Phew. My name is John Foti and I’ve been playing accordion and saxophone with DZAF for the last year and a half. I can’t believe it’s been that long already! Some of you may agree that it still feels like June 2005 or so, but here we are kicking off 2008.

First off, I wanted to thank all of you who have attended DZAF shows and perhaps even chatted with me after a performance. You’re kindness, energy, and support continues to be unbelievable - and it makes me realize how lucky I am to be a part of this wild ride.

Second, while I plan on serving up more entries to the “Welcome Table” in the future, I thought I’d start by sharing a recent experience with you. While I’m not on tour with DZAF, I play music with a few other bands, one of which is my own. I’ve been writing and performing for a while now. After taking piano lessons since the age of 5, I started out in a band called the Morbid Chicken Puppies in 8th grade and we stayed together all the way until my second year out of college! Today, my band is made up of close friends, including a few former Chicken Puppies and my talented sister Kate. Since recent attempts to record an album on my own failed (I have no right trying to set up a microphone, especially on a piano), I finally sought the help of professionals and went upstate to record at The Clubhouse in Rhinebeck, NY the week before Christmas.

The plan was for me to get there the first day, record my piano and guitar parts, and then have the rest of the guys come up. When I first walked in, a few kind studio interns greeted me. They didn’t say much and seemed a bit timid. I hadn’t shaved in a while, so maybe I was a bit scary looking. Like any other unfamiliar social situation, it’s always a bit of a challenge to meet people for the first time, get a feel for your surroundings, and try to be comfortable. On top of all that, I had to get right to work. It was just Daniel the engineer, his assistant Eli, and me that first day. And while productive, it was pretty tough for me. I didn’t feel like I played all that well. I spent that night questioning myself and whether I was even ready to do this project. It’s one thing to have the songs, but another to be able to record them the way you want them to sound.

I woke up feeling pretty motivated on the second day and got a lot done early – then fellow DZAF band member Saskia came up and recorded upright bass parts (sorry I have no pictures to account for this, but she was there, I swear!). Not only was it great to see her, but she was a trooper and stayed very late to get her parts done. I’m so happy she’s a part of the recording. On the third day of the session, the rest of the band started to trickle in and that’s when things really started to get both easier AND intensely productive. We worked for three more days from 11am until midnight or so. Talk about past your bedtime!

vocal warmups!

I could go on and into more detail, but thanks to my band, Daniel and Eli, the session ended up being a terrific learning experience on many levels. Most importantly, I re-learned something that Dan always reminds us all in the band to do: have fun. I recognize now that I was a bit uptight and nervous at first, but as soon as my friends came up, things loosened up. And that’s what this was all about. The recording was going to get done somehow, someway. But that didn’t mean I had to over-think, worry, and take the joy out of it. Embracing the music being made with the people around you (which included watching Nils do 38 guitar takes for one song!), sharing stories, talking politics, learning about microphones, eating good food, being goofy - that’s what made this experience so special. Two strangers became new friends. Old friends became…older friends? And my sister…well…she’s still my sister.

And the best part is, because we didn’t completely finish things up in December, we’ll be heading back upstate in mid-February (this time, I’ll take more pictures). With that, here’s a list of ten things I learned while up at the studio:

1. Upstate NY/Hudson Valley is a beautiful place. I’m jealous of people who live there.
2. I should have taken more pictures (having traveled with Dan, I should have known this).
3. Drinking lots of water is important. So is having a bathroom nearby.
4. Friends make life a lot better.
5. So does music.
6. Rhinebeck Bagels makes a mean omelet sandwich.
7. When you’re doing something you love, it’s easy to forget about the money involved (in this case, I was spending it!)
8. Every now and then, it’s okay to wear the same shirt and pants two days in a row (as long as you shower).
9. Coffee is a wonderful thing. But too much is no good. I’m glad I didn’t start drinking it until after college.
10. Drawing silly faces on magazines is still fun after all these years.

You can check out this slideshow on the DZAF flicker page and even more pictures at myspace.com/johnfoti. And I’ll be sure to put up the new songs by April or so.

Thanks for reading and hope to see you soon,

John

the dzaf holiday hootenanny in montclair nj

2008-01-24T11:39:00.000-05:00

hi everyone,
click here to see a great slideshow of our time in montclair putting together the holiday show!

xo
dz

Introducing Elena

2007-12-10T15:57:00.000-05:00

Greetings, DZ friends of the online world!

I wanted to take a moment and introduce myself through the blog, since I’m relatively new to the band. I’m Elena, and I play the fiddle (as well as a bit of trumpet) in the group. It’s such a pleasure to be playing music with this group of folks for such energetic and loving audiences!

Two years ago, upon moving to Brooklyn, I never would have believed that I’d be traveling the country playing tunes for you all. Although music-making has always been an important part of my life, I spent my last years of college and post-college immersed in issues of urban policy, community development, and the nonprofit social justice world. I worked with community development organizations in wonderful South and West Chicago before moving to NYC to receive a grad degree in urban policy. Somewhere along the way, I began playing a lot of music again (how could I not, in this city of music and arts!) and eventually wound up with DZAF.

However, my two worlds are not mutually exclusive.

In addition to having incredible music-making fiestas, my involvement with DZAF has allowed me to explore cities and towns across the country, as well as discover amazing community arts and multicultural organizations. I’ve had a fantastic experience interacting with arts and cultural centers such as Inner City Arts in LA, El Taller in NYC, or Los Cenzontles Mexican Arts Center in San Pablo, CA, and witnessing unique and fascinating town activities (see Providence parade pics!).

Charlie Faye and DZ playing for the kids at Inner City Arts

Puppets in the Providence, RI parade

DZ cuts loose in the Providence, RI parade
photo by Andrea Moon Park

Tap dancer Derick Grant and DZ at Disneyworld

It’s inspiring to see so many examples of music and arts working to bring together young people and communities, and I look forward to many more fascinating township and community visits. I’ll hopefully be keeping photo records (and blog accounts) of our travels and of the wonderful, crazy and inspiring things we see along the way! I’ll also take snapshots of DZAF on the road… feel free to check them out!

Love,
Elena

A New Song! Una Nueva Canción!

2007-12-05T12:00:00.000-05:00

It's still in the rough stages, but I'd still like to hear from you and know what you think...

Colas is a traditional son jarocho from Veracruz, Mexico introduced to me by the Villa-Lobos Brothers, a trio from Veracruz now living in Nueva York (they're in the above photo). The group also appear on the CD singing and playing the Mexican celebration song El Pijul.

This version of Colas isn’t exactly son jarocho and it’s not exactly rock and roll but everyone at the recording session agreed that the end result sounds like New York in the new century and invites wild dancing.

I know I have some pictures here somewhere...

love,
Dan

P.S. Here's who's making some joyful noises on Colas: Colin Brooks plays the drums. Sonia De Los Santos sings. John Foti is on accordion. Rob Friedman plays the lap steel. Elena Moon Park plays her violin. George Rush stops by to play tuba. Beto Villa-Lobos plays the Jarana guitar. Ernesto Villa-Lobos sings. Luis Villa-Lobos plays the violin. DZ sings and plays the electric guitar.

My Time on the Mexican American Border

2007-11-16T14:00:00.000-05:00

Disponible en Español.
Spanish translation courtesy of Sonia de los Santos.

This is the wall that runs through the towns of Nogales, Mexico and Nogales, Arizona. Billions of dollars have been spent on such measures. When I gather together and play music with my friends from around the world we are able to build some of the bridges that are so important in these fearful and divisive times. And we have fun!

During a show in New York earlier this year I mentioned from the stage that my band and I had been working with various Latino musicians on a collection of songs from Puerto Rico, Mexico, Colombia, the Dominican Republic and other parts of the Spanish speaking Americas and that it was our "pro-immigration cd." In other words, while the debate about who’s eligible to live in the United States raged on we were having a rocking time with musical friends celebrating some of the vibrant culture that comes with immigration.

After the concert I met Joseph Nevins, a geography professor and author of the book Operation Gatekeeper who had attended the show with his family. They had just returned from Tucson, the urban epicenter of the U.S. Mexican border difficulties, where they had been working with various organizations in efforts to reduce migrant deaths and change legislation to provide more humane possibilities for Mexican and Central American workers seeking Northern employment. I mentioned that I was somewhat in the dark on the situation but would like to know more. Before I knew it, Joseph had set up an itinerary for me, and I was on my down to Tuscon see for myself what was going on.

I spent the first day driving and hiking through the Sonoran Desert on and around the migrant trails with a humanitarian aid group called the Samaritans. The first thing that struck me was that this is a military zone. Heavily armed border patrol agents in vans, SUVs and helicopters, are the dominant presence. I was unnerved and ashamed to see groups of migrants, men and women of all ages, many of whom had been walking for several days, exhausted, dehydrated, and demoralized, with little more than the shirts on their backs, being caught and herded into vans and buses. We stopped as one group of captured migrants was being loaded into a bus to be taken back to the border. A woman in the group was clearly pregnant and when the Samaritans asked if they could give her a bottle of water, the bus driver continually answered with an insistent "No." I later saw a small group of migrants which included a girl who looked to be about thirteen, my daughter’s age, herded by border patrol with dogs into a van. It’s a heartbreaking war.

Among this group of migrants being loaded into a Border Patrol van was a girl who looked to be my daughter's age. If i needed an incident to highlight my own sense of privilege this was it.

Although I’m still working to understand the situation in all of its complexity, this much came up in my conversations with people in the area: in the mid 90’s the Clinton Administration began a call for increased border security near San Diego which, until that point had been the main point of entry for migrants. Billions of dollars were spent, miles of wall were built, underground sensors were installed, and the Border Patrol was increased dramatically. What changed was that when people were unable to make enough money in Mexico to feed their families they risked their lives crossing into the U.S. through the brutal heat of the Sonoran Desert in Arizona instead of southern California. The numbers of migrants crossing the border didn't drop with the beefed up security and the numbers of people dying along the way increased. In seeing the situation first hand I couldn’t help but sense tragic political theater with a high cost both in dollars and lives. There was the feeling among almost everyone I met that until we in the U.S. attempt to change the root causes of extreme economic disparity, greatly exacerbated by the free trade agreements of the past 10 years, there is no amount of build up on the border that will stop people who cannot feed their families and are willing to risk their lives to find work here. In a more basic sense, can any of us, as God’s children, stand by while our neighbors are suffering?

My second morning in Tucson was spent at the Casa Maria Soup Kitchen run by the Catholic Worker. This is where many migrants have their first hot meal. Hundreds of people of all ages, mostly Mexican and Central American, came through the line. That afternoon I traveled with Maryada Vallet, of the humanitarian aid group No More Deaths / No Mas Muertes (with the telling slogan “Humanitarian Aid is Never a Crime”), to Nogales, Mexico where the organization has established a food and first aid facility which offers help to migrants who have been rounded up in the U.S. and dropped off back in Mexico. We saw several busloads of demoralized people being lead down the side of the highway from the U.S. across the border to Mexico. The despair and physical trauma was overwhelming. Volunteers from No More Deaths, both Mexican and U.S. citizens, bandaged hands cut by razor wire, tended feet with enormous blisters, and gave out much needed food and water. Most of those who are caught and returned to Mexico will try to cross again.

This is what I saw from the window of Kat's car driving from Altar to Sasabe. There's no escaping the sense of death, dreams, and hard reality in this part of the country.

My third day began with a 5am drive down to Altar, Mexico with Kat Rodriguez of the group Derechos Humanos, a human/civil rights group which fights the militarization of the Southern Border as well as discrimination, and human rights abuses by federal, state, and local law enforcement officials. Altar is a staging area for people who have come from all parts of Mexico with plans to cross the border. The entire economy of the town is based on the needs of the migrants - tube socks, backpacks, non-perishable foods, sneakers, and water are sold in stalls around the square. Buses of people arrive daily and are eventually split into groups of about 15-20, crammed into vans and driven to the border an hour away where they begin walking, a journey which usually takes several days. We spent a few hours in the center of town while Kat handed out small pamphlets entitled Conozca sus Derechos (Know your Rights). The feeling in the square was electric - nervousness, excitement, hope, fear on the faces of working people about to make their dangerous northbound journey. Having already witnessed the despair on the faces of the migrants returned to Nogales it was impossible for me not to feel deeply saddened in Altar.

Here is a view from the U.S. looking towards Mexico. This is a long line of migrants who have been picked up in the desert and been driven back to the border. When they cross into Mexico they'll see the tent set up by the humanitarian aid group "No Mas Muertes." Volunteers will offer them food, water, and first aid. It was necessary for me to spend the afternoon in and around that tent to begin to understand what these people had gone through in their efforts to find work or family in the U.S.

I saw the migrant experience from many angles, each one heartbreaking, eye opening, frustrating, and ultimately infuriating. Had it not been for my chance meeting of a professor and the generosity of the people working tirelessly on the front lines in the Tucson area, I could have possibly gone on for years without any idea of the tragedy on our Southern border. Every day in the newspaper there are reminders that inhumane treatment of our fellow men and women is not limited to the border region; racial profiling, raids, and deportations are a part of everyday life for many in the United States. The spirit of ‘us’ and ‘them’ has pervaded our national dialogue. For some of us, it may be easy to toss off a phrase like “increased border security.” Yet the sight of exhausted, hungry, poor men, women and children — not unlike the working people I grew up with in New Hampshire — being rounded up in the desert and bussed back to Mexico, where in desperation and in need they will likely try to cross again, is a sad piece in the larger puzzle of our failed national immigration and economic policies.

My time in Tucson ended with a family concert at the Rialto Theater. The band and I were joined onstage by Sonoran folksinger Salvador Duran and members of the legendary Mariachi Luz de Luna. As it always does, the wild, unpredictable, and joyous sound of musicians getting to know each other while people of all ages dance and sing along gave me a sense of life’s best possibilities.

It was music that made me want to know more in the first place. It’s everywhere here in Brooklyn. Norteño, son jarocho, bomba y plena, reggaetón, mariachi, merengue, salsa, cumbia, rock en español all drifting out of car radios, apartment windows, parks, restaurants and storefronts. It was music that opened my eyes and made me want to understand the lives, traditions, dreams, and difficulties of others. It was music that eventually brought me to the Southern border.

It’s clear to me now that we must all fully engage in the current immigration debate.If we are to be a healthy, vibrant, successful country in the 21st century, intolerance, fear, complacency, apathy, exclusion, and greed must be countered with love, generosity, acceptance, respect, celebration, and yes, music.

Viaje a la frontera entre México y Estados Unidos

2007-11-16T13:55:00.000-05:00

Click here for English version
Traducción por Sonia de los Santos

Durante un show en Nueva York a principios de este año, mencioné que mi grupo y yo habíamos estado trabajando con varios músicos latinos en una colección de canciones de Puerto Rico, México, Colombia y la República Dominicana; entre otras partes de América hispano parlante, y que era nuestro CD "pro-inmigración". En otras palabras, mientras el debate acerca de quién debe o no vivir en los Estados Unidos está latente, nosotros nos estamos divirtiendo con nuestros amigos en la música, celebrando la cultura de la que gozamos gracias a la inmigración.

Después de ese concierto conocí a Joseph Nevins, un profesor de geografía y autor del libro "Operation Gatekeeper", quien acudió a nuestro show con su familia. Ellos acababan de regresar de Tucson, el epicentro urbano de los problemas en la frontera de México y Estados Unidos. Ahí habían estado trabajando con varias organizaciones uniendo esfuerzos por reducir las muertes de los migrantes y cambiar la legislación para proveer posibilidades más humanas para los trabajadores de México y Centro América que buscan empleo en el norte. Les mencioné que no entendía mucho de la situación, pero que me gustaría conocer más. Antes de esperarlo, Joseph había hecho un itinerario para mi viaje a Tucson y así ver, por mi mismo, lo que estaba sucediendo.

Pasé el primer día manejando y excursionando por el desierto de Sonora siguiendo las huellas de los migrantes con un grupo humanitario llamado "Los Samaritanos". Lo primero que me impactó fue que aquello parecía una zona militar con agentes patrulleros de frontera armados en camionetas y helicópteros ejerciendo una presencia dominante. Me sentí perturbado y avergonzado al ver a grupos de migrantes, hombres y mujeres de todas las edades, que habían estado caminando por varios días; cansados, deshidratados y desmoralizados, con nada más que las camisetas colgadas en sus espaldas, siendo capturados en camiones. Nos detuvimos mientras un grupo de los migrantes capturados era llevado a un camión y llevado de vuelta a la frontera. Una mujer en el grupo estaba embarazada y cuando los Samaritanos preguntaron si era posible que le dieran una botella con agua, el chofer del camión contestaba con un insistente "NO ". Después vi a un pequeño grupo de migrantes entre los cuales estaba una niña de unos trece años, la edad de mi hija, siendo acosada por los agentes patrulleros con perros y llevada a una camioneta. Es una guerra desalmada y dolorosa.

Aunque aún estoy tratando de comprender la situación con toda su complejidad, he estado mencionado esto en conversaciones con gente en mi área: a mitad de los 90´s la administración de Clinton hizo un llamado para incrementar la seguridad en la frontera en el área de San Diego, la cual en ese tiempo era el punto principal de entrada para los migrantes. Se gastaron billones de dólares, millas de pared fueron construidas, fueron instalados sensores bajo tierra y la patrulla fronteriza fue incrementada dramáticamente. Lo único que cambió fue que cuando la gente en México no puede hacer el dinero suficiente para darle de comer a sus familias arriesga su vida cruzando a Estados Unidos en el calor infernal del desierto de Sonora y Arizona en vez de hacerlo por California. El número de migrantes que cruzan la frontera no bajó con el aumento en la seguridad, mientras que el número de personas que mueren en el camino si ha aumentado. Al ser partícipe de esto, no pude dejar de sentir que es una situación de teatro trágico político con un gran costo tanto en dólares como en vidas. Entre casi toda la gente que conocí, existe el pensamiento de que mientras nosotros en los Estados Unidos no intentemos cambiar de raíz la causa de la extrema diferencia económica, agravada por los acuerdos de libre comercio de los últimos 10 años; no hay manera de construir un muro que detenga a la gente que no puede alimentar a sus familias y que está dispuesta a arriesgar su vida por encontrar trabajo aquí. Puesto de forma más simple, ¿podemos, como hijos de Dios, estar tranquilos mientras nuestros vecinos están sufriendo?

Mi segunda mañana en Tucson la pasé en el comedor "Casa María" a cargo de trabajadores católicos, donde muchos de los migrantes hacen su primera comida caliente en su viaje. Cientos de personas de todas las edades, principalmente mexicanos y centro americanos, esperan en línea para comer. Esa tarde viajé con ≤Maryada Vallet≤, otro grupo humanitario cuyo slogan es ≤No más muertes≤, mientras decían: ≤La ayuda humanitaria nunca es un crimen≤. Fuimos hacia Nogales, en el estado de Sonora, donde la organización ha establecido un punto de ayuda con comida y primeros auxilios para ofrecer ayuda a los migrantes que han sido capturados y enviados de vuelta al lado mexicano de la frontera. Pudimos ver varios autobuses cargados de personas que bajaban desmoralizadas habiendo sido dejadas al cruzar la frontera de México. La desolación y el trauma físico y emocional en sus rostros era abrumador. Voluntarios del grupo ≤No más muertes≤, tanto mexicanos como ciudadanos americanos, les curaron las manos cortadas por alambres, los pies llenos de ampollas y les dieron el agua y la comida que tanto necesitaban. Muchos de los migrantes que son capturados y regresados a México intentarán cruzar la frontera de nuevo.

Mi tercer día empezó a las cinco de la mañana para manejar hacia Altar, Sonora con Kat Rodríguez del grupo ≤Derechos Humanos≤, un grupo que pelea contra la militarización de la frontera y la discriminación y el abuso de los derechos humanos por oficiales y agentes federales, estatales y locales. Altar es uno de los lugares en donde gente de todas partes de México y Centro América llega a concretar sus planes para cruzar la frontera. Toda la economía de este lugar está basada en las necesidades de los migrantes: calcetines, mochilas, alimentos no perecederos, calzado y agua son vendidos en las plazas. Camiones llenos de gente llegan diariamente y eventualmente se dividen en grupos de 15 a 20 personas que son llevadas a la frontera localizada a una hora de Altar, donde empiezan caminando un trayecto que les tomará varios días. Pasamos varias horas en el centro de este pueblo mientras Kat repartía folletos que decían ≤Conozca sus derechos≤. El ambiente en este lugar era abrumador: nerviosismo, emoción, deseo, miedo en las caras de los trabajadores a punto de hacer un peligroso trayecto hacia el norte. Habiendo sido testigo de la desolación en el rostro de los migrantes que regresaron a Nogales no pude evitar sentir una gran tristeza en Altar.

Pude ver la experiencia de los migrantes desde distintos ángulos, cada uno de ellos dolorosos, llenos de frustración y de furia. Sin haber tenido la suerte de conocer a un profesor y a la generosidad de la gente que trabaja sin descanso en las líneas de frente en Tucson, pude haber estado años sin tener la más mínima idea de la tragedia que ocurre en nuestra frontera del sur. Todos los días en los periódicos se pueden encontrar recordatorios de que el trato inhumano hacia nuestra gente en el sur no es exclusivo en el área fronteriza, gestos racistas, ataques y deportaciones son parte de la vida diaria de muchas personas en Estados Unidos. El espíritu de la separación entre ≤nosotros≤ y ≤ellos≤ se ha permeado en nuestro diálogo nacional. Para algunos de nosotros, puede ser fácil decir una frase como ≤aumento de la seguridad fronteriza≤, pero la imagen de pobres hombres, mujeres y niños cansados y hambrientos- como la gente trabajadora con la que crecí en New Hampshire (excepto que ellos nacieron al sur de la frontera) - siendo acorralados en el desierto y llevados de vuelta a México, donde en la desesperación tratarán de cruzar otra vez, es una triste pieza en el gran rompecabezas de nuestro fallido sistema nacional de inmigración y políticas económicas.

Mi estancia en Tucson terminó con un concierto familiar en el Teatro Rialto. Mi grupo y yo fuimos acompañados en el escenario por el cantante sonorense de música folclórica Salvador Durán y los miembros del legendario ≤Mariachi Luz de Luna≤. Como siempre, la alegría impredecible del sonido de los músicos que se conocen mientras gente de todas las edades canta y baila con nosotros, me hizo sentir las mejores e infinitas posibilidades de la vida.

Fue la música la que me llevó a querer conocer más de todo esto. Es imposible no escucharla, está en todas partes aquí en Brooklyn. Norteño, son jarocho, bomba y plena, reggaetón, mariachi, merengue, salsa, cumbia, rock en español, resonando desde los radios en los carros, las ventanas de los apartamentos, los parques, restaurantes y tiendas. Fue la música la que abrió mis ojos y me hizo querer entender la vida, tradiciones, sueños y dificultades de otros. Fue la música la que eventualmente me llevó a la frontera sur.

Tengo ahora muy claro que debemos comprometernos en el debate sobre la inmigración. Si podemos ser un país sano, vibrante y exitoso en el siglo XXI, la intolerancia, el miedo, la apatía, la exclusión y la avaricia deben ser contrarrestadas con el amor, la generosidad, la aceptación, el respecto, la celebración y sí, la música.

Amor,
Dan

Our Outpost in Blogland

2007-11-14T23:12:00.000-05:00

Bienvenido! Hello Friends and welcome to the Dan Zanes and Friends blog.

I am blessed to live in a wild and woolly world of inspiring singers, players, dancers, and creative people who work tirelessly to keep us all moving forward. Unless you spend a lot of time on my block, it would be difficult to get to know this crowd, their thoughts, jokes, social leanings, musical tastes, their outfits! It’s high time we established an outpost in blogland, opened the doors, and let you all in. Everyone around me has agreed to contribute in one way or another so let’s get this show on the road!

I'll start posting (click here) and let's see who comes along to add to the scrapbook...

Love,
Dan