It’s controversial
There are different stories, rumors, innuendo
Exactly why the Malian guitarist Djelimady Tounkara and his compatriots never made it to Cuba is shrouded in mystery, poetic license, and urban legend
They were supposed to meet up with Eliades Ochoa under the direction of Nick Gold and Ry Cooder
And produce an album celebrating the shared heritage and interchanges between west african and cuban music
According to some sources, the Malians didn’t get their visas approved by the Cuban government
Others report that business concerns ended up blocking it (whether about contracts, missing out on touring opportunities, or something else)
There are those that swear that it was as simple as Tounkara’s entourage losing their passports and missing their flights
And, especially among west african circles, some suspicion about being cut out of the project by nefarious interests
In any case, the planned collaboration didn’t happen, and in 1996 (what a tremendous year!), what was produced instead was a reunion of cuban greats, many long-retired, reviving the island’s mid-century glorious musical traditions
It became the Buena Vista Social Club album, with a documentary by Wim Wenders, and endless sales, awards, tours, follow-ups, and soundtrack to three million late 20th century mocha lattes
Like everyone else and their third cousin, I bought the cd and loved it
It sparked a worldwide craze for cuban son and bolero
And made Compay Segundo, Ibrahim Ferrer, Ruben Gonzalez, and Omara Portuondo stars again (well-deserved)
But my favorite on the album was actually a guajira by Eliades Ochoa, a style and player completely new to me
El Carretero was a guajira-son written and performed originally by Guillermo Portabales
Guajira means “country” with the same implications as it has here
As in, “Chicago is just Mississippi with a lot more street lights”
In 2010, 14 years after whatever missed connections thwarted the original plan, Segundo, Gonzalez, and Ferrer had all passed
But Ochoa was (and is) still active, and Gold finally got him, Tounkara, and their associated all-star squads together in Spain
By this time, Tounkara (who had been part of Mali’s legendary Rail Band — definitely need a dose from them) had an even more famous countryman: Toumani Diabate, the kora player
So of course he’s part of the group, along with Bassekou Kouyate, who plays balafon
which is sort of like a xylophone
[Zaza loves to play it at the annual African Festival of the Arts on the Midway]
[which almost certainly won’t happen this year. Sigh]
Accounts of the studio sessions and resulting tour reveal some conflicts and tensions
Especially between Ochoa and Diabate
Their first session was to record “Al Vaiven de mi Carreta”
Another guajira-son (or guajira-de-salon) by Portabales
(Here’s a recording of it by the composer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A12ktvy76_M)
It’s very similar to El Carretero
A country lament about the sad, difficult life of the cartwright
Wondering when he well get back home to his hut (el bohio)
You can make out some of the tensions between the two leaders and camps in this video of the first take in Madrid
Warning: Wim Wenders this ain’t!
Note Diabate’s Scarface “Say hello to my little friend” t-shirt ?
And also note that this take doesn’t feature much kora
I imagine he wasn’t pleased
The final album version gives him, Tounkara’s guitar, and Lassana Diabate’s balafon much more space
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F7gLOA7XNW4
Along with a chorus at the end asking “Cuando llegare al bohio?”
Honestly, I love both versions
Supposedly, the recording sessions were difficult cuz Ochoa (who comes from the farm country in eastern cuba) likes to get up with the rooster’s dawn calls, just as the song describes the Carretero doing
While Diabate tends to sleep until the afternoon
And you can see in the video that Ochoa sees himself in charge (he barks out “silence!” to get it started) and isn’t all that interested in modifying the guajira to accomodate the malian input
But they seem to have arrived at a fruitful meeting, perhaps sometime around high noon?
Even if it took 14 years
The world, chico, and everything in it.
