Danso

Boy, talk about struggling with communication. As I write this, yesterday I went to a music class to learn more about playing a danso, a Korean bamboo wind or flute-like instrument. Granted, I was the only one in the group of adults and youngsters who could speak anything close to fluent English. Being here in South Korea, everyone else could only speak their native language with only a little bit of ability to speak. Still, the challenge I had of trying to get a handle on the mechanics of this instrument was giant in-size. This is despite the fact the instructor and the others in class were super kind and very patient.

As a beginner, they were trying to teach the musical scales along with how to position one's fingers when playing. They might as well been talking with a chimp. When do you cover up the holes with your fingers? Which fingers do you use to cover the holes? Do you use specific fingers with specific holes? How best do you position the danso to your lips? What is the best way to breath as you try to play? These were among the basic questions that raced through my mind as they tried communicating with me. Oh, there was another: How can I get the hell out of here? Again, in all fairness, except for that last question, the instructor worked very hard in trying to impart to give me the information I needed.

At one point, a fellow student - a little girl probably no more than 10 years of age - stepped in and spoke in enough English to move me in a good direction. She called herself Boa. Thank you, Boa. Despite her and the others, my struggle with the danso never lessened. I never stopped struggling. Looking back, I recognize I may not be cut out for the danso regardless of the language differences. That is on me and not the instructor. But the good news is their efforts to communicate with me during the lesson were at least somewhat successful. I walked away with a tad more understanding of the danso. But will I return for next week's lesson? Even I do not know the answer to that yet.