PASTO-hip hop conference

I'm in Pasto, a city deep down on the southern coast of Colombia, just above Equador. I produced a few songs for a group here in Cali, Rimadores de Silencio, and therefore was invited to the event.

A weekend full of forums, concerts, parties and lots of events. but i'll admit the most of the valuable experiences occured in the time in between. The conversations, learning new slang, sharing music, joking around, wandering around the city.







up in the mountains.





Somehow I was convinced into participating in a panel discussion....

Although I barely speak Spanish, and i'm not one for public speaking, I accepted-not knowing that the event was going to be televised and that every hip hop fan in Pasto was going to be there that evening.
The form was your typical one-community leaders working with kids and artist to make a change, educate, discuss culture, discuss music.

from my "sometimes-i-work-sometimes-i-dont" camera.












Hip Hop....
....no matter how much it resemebles noise at times, is such a powerful culture. For me, at least, It's an excellent gateway to people's stories. These emcees are nothing but young poets. Some, I believe more talented than writers in ivy league schools. Others, not so much...but cut from the street and given no other outlets, so they use it as a tool to have their voices heard.

same thing with salsa, bossa nova, jazz, rock, reggae....history repeating itself.



AFter Parties.










IM FAMOUS.
when we first got to the afterparty, i walked to the bar to ask for some wine and a few cups, nothing more. the bartenders eyes lit up as he shook my hand and welcomed me to his club. He then told me that my money was no good there, and asked me to have a seat as though he were lucky to know me and not the other way around. Of course, I played along and got free drinks all night ..but i did feel guilty for a split second or two.

And then later on, during a conversation with one of the emcees in the group, I was interrupted by another kid, who timidly approached us and politely asked for autographs. I am, by no means famous, and at this point all the attention was becoming slightly rediculous to me. I wanted to be real with him and tell him I wasn't the one who should be signing his poster, but the excitement on his face, and the look of admiration from his brother who stood watching his sibling meet some 'artists' stopped me. I think i realized, at that moment, how much this stuff means to some people. So I shook his hand, asked his name, listened to his aspirations for a few minutes, and signed the autograph.

my 15 minutes are up, i enjoyed them.




and i just finished "100 years of solitude". so good, ive already started re-reading it.