Another perspective

Having been on the road with Munirih Sparrow traveling and sharing music, its always heart warming to hear of what others say, their perspective on what we do. So much encouragement and support from the friends, their kindness, hospitality, generosity and love has been tremendous. We feel blessed to be able to share with the world our gift, doing what we love doing.

Here is an article for Shiprock/Farmington  that Jeff worked up. Wow!


MUNIRIH SPARROW & GUSTAFF BESUNGU:
TROUBADORS of ONE WORLD


Munirih Sparrow & Gustaff Besungu are fast becoming rising stars of international music & storytelling. As seasoned performers, recently they
have been performing together as troubadors of intercultural and inter-racial harmony with a compelling spiritual message.

Munirih’s musical roots arise from her Canadian prairie homeland & its soulful voice and native storytellers; while Gustaff hales from a long heritage of traditional drum players, dancers & story-catchers from Cameroon, West Central Africa. Yet both have branched off into East-West & international music, with a strong focus on Baha’i songs & Writings--displaying a far-reaching repertoire.

Inspired by these diverse sources, they are fashioning a new kind of musical sound & launching fresh themes & even new performance methods.

Munirih’s richly textured voice travels up and down the musical ladder to make intimate & meaningful connections with the audience; Gustaff’s deep-rooted voice & drumming draws listeners and participants into the heart of his time-honored rhythms & wisdom. Combining gifts, they bring into being transformational music.

Likewise, they intersperse their performances with teaching stories and invite the audience to accompany them on a spiritual journey through
interactive dialogue and singalongs. Traditional African folk songs, world wide music & Baha’i verses intermingle and are woven together with the
oneness of God, humankind, & all the world’s religions. Unity in diversity is the keynote.

Beauty after the storm

Yesterday we had a wonderful time at the Albuquerque Bahai center. What a delightful group. The music was great, the interaction cheerful, filled with humor; in celebration of Love. After snacks, engaging in light conversation, making acquaintances and being treated to a heart full dinner, it was time to go home and rest for the night.  

Our host was our driver, a very careful, diligent driver she was; we got caught in a snow storm as we drove up the mountain to Edgewood-NM from Albuquerque. High winds blowing snow directly into our path, semi-trucks and trucks getting off the road, some coming to a standstill others plowing through slowly. Now and again we got one of those crazy drivers swerving in and out of lanes for their respect of life and common sense driving skills under such conditions was out the window. Outside temperatures so inconsiderate to someone like me who is accustomed to the sunny weather of the Sunshine State (go Key West), snow on windshield and wipers quickly turn to ice. A typical 30 minutes drive took us about an hour to get home.

By the grace of the Almighty and skills of our host and driver, we got home safely.  I drank a cup of tea and slept like a baby. This morning, it was pristine outside, beautiful, and an inspiring landscape of snow to salute me.  I thought “What a view, what a beauty after the storm,” and it got me thinking: sometimes in our lives we get caught in a “snow storm,” our energies are drained, we lose our sense of purpose and feel lost and burdened, because we are not sure when the storm will pass away, but if we keep steady, become alert and weather the storm with patience, diligence and a powerful belief in hope, then we get to see the beauty after the storm, we get to enjoy life in its fullest, for no matter how long the storm stays, it will eventually give way for the beauty that ensue.

The Magic of Kindness

We've traveled so far from Gainesville to Tallahassee, all the way to Pensacola, back to Gainesville via Navarre, and now Atlanta-GA  where we are getting ready for a cozy evening of a musical presentation.

Along the way, its been very clear the power of kindness, genuine support, love and encouragement we've received in all the places. No matter the crowd, the diversity of circumstances nor the level of intimacy we have with the communities, there have been a constant show of kindness beyond words.

Musical Road Trip

Photo Courtesy of Cristina Cabezas Eury. Munirih Sparrow and Gustaff @ Gainesville Baha'i Center

It began with a Facebook message from a friend, then to Facebook connections, emails, Skype, and finally phone calls, that led to this musical journey which has begun on such a good footing.

Two musicians (I from Cameroon) and Munirih Sparrow from Canada, who had never met each other, and I dare say never heard of each other until a few weeks back when our travel itinerary was being put together, are able to go on stage and share a magical moment, a conversation of hearts to hearts in an environment of complete awe and enthusiastic support. That is the power of belief, the allure of the language of music.

Gainesville-Florida was a wonderful beginning to this journey that will take us from Florida to California, a veritable sprint of performance schedule, an avenue of spiritual and personal development and a glorious opportunity to share with the world the one thing we know and do best: playing music to awaken spirits, uplift hearts and inspire souls.

Its an endeavor sincerely calling on those we meet to examine our path of service to humanity, share in our joys and wonder of the source of our inspiration and join in the desire and efforts to transform humanity, sharing a vision that speaks to the higher ideals of every illumined soul.

This musical road trip we will share with our family, friends, fans and loved ones who are not able to travel with us using avenues of communication available to us. Hence this blog will be one of those avenues where you can become acquainted with the developments, happenings and excitements of our travel.

Please have us in your prayers and loving thoughts.

As always your encouragement and great support is the lifeblood of what we do.

Stay tuned, stay connected.

Tallahassee here we come...

Believer

I am not an Angel or a Saint
Nor does that make a Devil or Satan
I am a Believer,
In the transforming power of Goodness

Woman's World?

Bound by unfairness and fear, she has no place to go
She is been trampled by those who dread her inner light
To crush her spirit they’ve killed or buried her children alive
Her nakedness frightens, prompts obsession and insanity, they say.
If she raises her voice the world will hear her, so they silence her
Keep her shut and imprisoned,
She is given no freedom, no space of her own,
She is trained to be submissive, shy, and dependent and to become the best slave,
We are slaves to ourselves; others have expanded their prisons to engulf the rest of us

“She is a woman,” they say,
In alleys and hallways, smoked filled rooms, in brick mortar houses, at round table discussions, in upscale offices and in lavish resorts; they decide her fate while she sits on a street corner begging for change, begging for her life.
Her ailing infant knows no taste of breast milk,
Fountains of life dried out;
Malnutrition and enslavement besiege her frail body like a drought-affected-vine of the Sahara desert.

She works day and night to keep the fire burning from a little wood pile of which she had risked rape and abuse to get miles and kilometers away. A bottle of water is a luxury she stumbles on through the struggles of a stranger who cared to sympathize.
Is this her fate, is this her way of life and is she to accept this reality?
Are we to say this is her reality?

She was born under unlucky stars, so the god's have proclaimed?
Given for money, given to bring forth more children, given away not to shame the family name.
She is given away
Free labor for a man's every pleasure and desire, she is given.
Belabor her every nerve, let her not see the dreams of her soul, or let her light shine.
We care not for what she has to contribute, we care but for what she has to do for us,
After all, she is a mother, a wife, a sister, and a caregiver.

She is supposed to be the resource that satisfies our every whim,
Our prostitute who fulfills our outrageous fantasies,
She’s been coaxed to believe she is a gratification bowl to wash our faces,
She has to toil in the fields and in every other harsh working site to feed our bellies,
She is expected to tame our egos,
Bolster our righteousness,
And above all she is to blame for our failures, headaches and heartaches.

Are we mindful of her dreams, when her views are unwelcomed in the midst of thinkers, visionaries and those who inspire?
Who is she to have a say in the prosperity of humankind? Is been the centuries old question.
Who is she to challenge our world view?
Who is she to articulate her plight?
She is a woman and thus is believed to be her world?

Stories are stories

Untold Stories

She raises her hand in prayer
And asks for things to help reach her peak
Where are the roads, the cleared up paths?
Her eyes beaming the sufferings she’d known
The struggles she has endured
Her child on a worn out cloth,
Weeping eyes dried of tears
Her stomach begs for survival far from sustenance
Is she to cry or crawl under a wasted sheet
Where hope is in drops of hydration?

A beggar in tattered clothes leans on a brick wall
And asks for loose change
A passerby sighs at such a sight
Offers pennies and signs on for pity’s sake
Others spite such circumstances which bear no resemblance
To a well developed society
A little girl in pretty clothes asks her father
Are these the forgotten?

A young boy plays in the dust,
His brother ravaging through waste searching for treasure in a refuse dump,
on the hillside in a city clamoring in boom and growth.
Jungle of concrete sprout its head in every corner, tangling its citizens, amplifying vapid lives.

A young man begs for the days of spring
And wish for stars to brighten up the sky.
A little girl ponders the job of a soldier aunt that serves its queen.
A mother smiles at the warmth of a fireplace
A father looks out across the meadow and contemplates
A writer sits in an unknown corner ready
To write untold stories.