“Christopher Columbus traveled the ocean to found the new world America…now, they come back to us”

Sorry for the mix-up on Tuesday, readers. I understand there was no posting, and that was due to some technical difficulties.

“Christopher Columbus traveled the ocean to found the new world America…now, they come back to us”

The above quote was a chant of adulation from one of the fans today during our performance in a Granada church. Like the Dan Brown and David Chase, however, I will have to leave the quote as a cliff-hanger so you, the readers, will have to endure this entire blog to see how this all fits together: sort of like watching Memento, but worse. Bwahahahahahahahahaha.

Today was a pretty much a free day. I thanked Jesus Christ in a sleepy growl that there was no wake-up call to pierce through my dreams and turn them into adrenaline-packed scenes where I hit the decks as my submarine is under nuclear threat from Red October, and was able to sleep-in. The students took advantage of this free time to see the streets and culture of Granada. Many saw Cathedrals as their cultural focus, and others chose to meander around the winding streets and soak up the culture first-hand. I was one of these ladder students, analyzing the striking similarities to Americans as moms dragged their children to school or the doctors, and as friends walked to lunch together.

This free time lasted until 5:15pm, where we had to be dressed in our concert attire and on the bus heading towards a Granada church. We traveled for a small amount of time to the city, where we disembarked and entered the amazing church. The town here was sleepy, but we took much pride in the many posters that decorated the walls of shops, markets, and even the Church. Upon our entry, we were met by a large tan stone gazebo in the center of the church. Flanking the gazebo in the transept (where the church shoots off into two large rooms) were two large areas of prayer with giant religious pictures and candles to lead the dead to the light. The dome took up the majority of the church, encompassing the brightly colored altar and some ornate candles that were in descending order like the singular commercials. Jettisoning from the front of the dome, almost launching at us, were two amazingly decorated pulpits (one used for the apostles and the other for the gospel readings). There was a central desk from which the Priest spoke from. He was intricately adorned in a purple cloak that covered his entire body and his words though in another language, seemed lyrical and his demeanor erudite.

We were stationed in the Nave just before the transept almost parallel to the congregation, however we were facing the priest at an angle, thus intersecting the congregation and not totally parallel. The Nave was not decorated but had an austere atmosphere to it: large stone columns and much open space. It was from here that we sang two songs for the service (one for communion) as a predecessor to our concert, which began some time after the congregation had taken the body and blood of Jesus Christ. Paul led us up to the stairs in front of the altar, and with the dome at our backs, we effortlessly sang the sacred Gregorian chants, captivating our audience more and more with each passing song.

Our concert was divided into two domains: the ‘sacred’ and the ‘American folk song’ sections, the first having most about 6-7 and the last having about 3-4 songs. The crowd’s enthusiasm for our presence and our gift of music exponentially increased with each successive performance, and it was not only our voices that echoed off the stone walls of the lofted and rounded ceiling. Their claps followed our voices as the sound waves found escape tunnels in the ceiling and bolted for the heavens.

The congregation’s love for our songs and appreciation for our concert was not cemented in loud hand collisions, but through the words of some of its members. For example, one man came up to our director Paul and said the above quote which I will repeat due to the large interval of Victorian language I enjoy in spicing up my works. He said, “Christopher Columbus traveled the ocean to found the new world America…now, they come back to us”. See? Told you I would come back to this…unlike the gunshot at the end of the Sopranos. Now as a historian I must point out that the Spanish explorers founded Hispaniola and the South Americas (there was Florida also), but nonetheless the message rang as clear as church bells in a sleepy town: we are returning the favor to our creators in the form of beautiful music. It is always good to hear exoneration from an audience, and this one has been the best form so far.

The night was concluded with more free time, of which I took advantage and accompanied a group to a quaint restaurant where we had profoundly intelligent conversations until curfew. I had a feeling the owner enjoyed our company, and we enjoyed the food and atmosphere of the place. It was a good conclusion to a good night.

Well, readers, thanks for taking the time to glance at this posting. This is an amazing blog, and I feel honored to write on the same electronic table that other members of the Choir get to write on, and be a part of the Colby Chorale historical experience. I hope it has not been too long for you, for I have taken much time to edit my post down so that one does not fall asleep reading it or put it down after the first page like one does when given the daunting task of analyzing War and Peace, Crime and Punishment, or Out of Africa. Not to dismember these exquisite works, but I feel a connection with others when I boast about starting these books and finding myself in the end watching the Daily Show, or just slipping it under my bed so as to put it out of mind. Thank you again for reading, and I hope you are all enjoying the blog postings.

Sincerely,

Matt