{"id":4561,"date":"2014-09-24T10:26:32","date_gmt":"2014-09-24T15:26:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.massfolkarts.org\/blog\/?p=4561"},"modified":"2014-09-25T09:01:36","modified_gmt":"2014-09-25T14:01:36","slug":"the-price-and-promise-of-leaving-home","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.massfolkarts.org\/index.php\/2014\/09\/the-price-and-promise-of-leaving-home\/","title":{"rendered":"The Price and Promise of Leaving Home"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Sushil_competing\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Old Time musician Alan Kaufman <\/a>and I were in Lowell to judge the 35th<\/sup> Annual Banjo & Fiddle Contest<\/a> on September 6th. As the audience began to gather, Alan mentioned, \u201cThere is someone I want you to meet. A man from Nepal who plays the Himalayan fiddle (a four-stringed wooden instrument played with a bow), and jaw harp. His name is Sushil Gautam.\u201d Alan explained that he had met Sushil at the local Dunkin\u2019 Donuts in Arlington, where Sushil works. A few weeks earlier, Alan had walked in wearing a Banjo & Fiddle contest tee-shirt and the two got to talking. This is when Alan discovered that the man who serves him his ice tea is not only a Himalayan fiddle and jaw harp player, he also helped to establish The Music Museum of Nepal <\/a>and published\u00a0 a book on the history, ethnic songs, and methods of playing the Nepalese sarangi.<\/p>\n

Sushil, Alan, and I spoke briefly before the contest began. Although Sushil had brought his sarangi, he was not planning on entering the contest. I told Sushil I’d be in touch soon about interviewing him for the MCC Folk Arts & Heritage Program. He kindly gave me a copy of his paperback, Sarangee, A Guide Book<\/span>. The book, in Nepalese, was published by Orbit International Education Culture Education Department in Kathmandu, Nepal. Before walking away, Sushil handed me his business card, saying\u00a0 \u201cThis is the view from my parent\u2019s home.\u201d It was a stunning panorama of the Himalayan Mountains with a small village in the foreground.<\/p>\n

\"Sushil<\/a><\/p>\n

I stared at the picture, worthy of a travel brochure. Wrapped up in that little moment was the price of leaving home. The push\/pull factors of limited economic opportunities, family, farm fresh food. . . .Why would someone leave such a place of physical beauty to resettle in a country halfway round the world. Clearly, it wasn\u2019t the job. Or was it?<\/p>\n

We scheduled a time for me to interview Sushil at his home in Somerville, where he lives with his wife and young daughter.<\/p>\n

On September 12, I found my way to a rental house on a narrow side street off Somerville Avenue. I rang the doorbell.\u00a0 At first, there was no response. I rang again. The windows were open; orange silk curtains fluttered in the screenless windows. I rang once more. Sushil appeared with a smile on his face and welcomed me into the front room of the house. It was sparsely furnished. Around the room were reminders of home —\u00a0 photocopied color prints of family members and scenes from his parents\u2019 village in Nepal. His daughter\u2019s stuffed toys were piled in one corner. Several musical instruments were lined up against the back wall, resting on the carpeted floor; a few more hung from the walls. Sushil showed me two sarangis, one carved out of a lighter wood, and one of a darker, denser wood. The latter had an ornate carving of an elephant on the back. \u201cOh, Ganesha,\u201d I remarked.\u00a0 Sushil, surprised, asked \u201cYou know of Ganesha?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Carving<\/a><\/p>\n

I asked if I could record our interview. He nodded and gestured to a small side table and two plastic chairs.<\/p>\n

Economic opportunities and the chance to better his daughter’s future motivated Sushil and his wife to emigrate. Sushil Gautam came to this country with his wife and young daughter in January of 2013. \u201cI grew up with tourism in my village.\u201d Although the snow-capped Himalayas loom in the distance, snow never falls in his village. \u201cAll the year it is green.\u201d Arriving in Boston, during the deep midwinter, came as somewhat of a shock. \u201cI experience snow by my hand and leg here in Boston for the first time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sushil had been selected by lottery for a green card and the opportunity to work and stay in the United States. Like many immigrants, he and his wife have university degrees, but can only find work in the food services. For now, Sushil is happy with his job at Dunkin\u2019 Donuts, which provides an opportunity to improve his speaking skills in English. He has aspirations of finding a job as a teacher of languages and culture in the future.<\/p>\n

\"Sushil<\/a><\/p>\n

The sarangi is a bowed chordophone<\/a>, carved from solid or composite wood, rather than pieced together like a violin. It has four strings; nylon has replaced gut (sheep intestine), and a metal string is used for the highest pitched string. \u00a0The sarangi is held vertically, much like a South Indian violin, or Chinese erhu. The outer two strings are tuned to an octave; the middle two strings are tuned a 4th<\/sup> up from the lowest string, e.g.<\/i>, G, C, C, G.\u00a0 In western parlance, we\u2019d call this an open tuning, meaning that all the strings are tuned to harmonized notes.\u00a0 \u00a0Some sarangi are highly ornamented, with carving depicting the God Ganesha or the Buddha.<\/p>\n

\"Sushil<\/a><\/p>\n