Hear Now

July 24, 2014

On any given morning, a crowd of sounds permeates the school campus. AS the sky flickers into light, a competition between wind and birds proceeds. The wind blusters, hard, at times grabbing focus and obliterating all other sound of the moment. But it cannot sustain itself and as the wind retreats, assumably to gather its own breath, the varied twitterings, tweets, cries and calls of the multi-cultural population of birds, co-opts the airwaves. Small hums, sharp cries, a yelp or two, tiny tweets and rolled whistles bounce back and forth. The crows work hard to dominate. The wind seems to settle as the morning spreads out. The birds calm down almost in reaction to the many children spilling from the red brick dorms. Hushed tones, full of sleepiness, color their conversations as they head off for yoga or morning exercise. A house or two might gently fill with chants or song. Children learning ways to greet the day.

The human sound builds subtly. At first a few voices punctuate the calm, but steadily the scuffle of sandaled feet accompany voices gaining their daily strength. Children, adults move along various paths, heading to their own preoccupations. As light permeates shadow, the bodies flow along a common path, voices at full strength. Feet slide along concrete as shoes are removed and stored.  Bare feet scrape over mats. People enter the dining hall, sharing short bits of conversation. Plates tink, ladels slosh and water gurgles into cups. A tiny hum under the waves of chat grows in size and intensity until a wave of silence envelopes the enter hall.  A choral chant languidly replaces the silence. A few moments pass and voices burst forth once again. A tin plate, maybe cup, ferociously clatters against the floor. The sounds of hundreds of mouths eating and continuing to squeeze words through the food.  Laughter, debate, teases rule the minutes until the nearly endless splash of dishwashing underscores the exiting voices.

The cacophony of the day then starts in earnest. Little football (soccer) games, music practice, morning chants, bicycles, oxen, birds, an occasional howler monkey. Men, machines, brooms, sandals, wind, umbrellas foomping and rain plonking.  These sounds rise and fall throughout the rain, wind and sun as the hours fold into each other and the ever-shifting people complete their studies, work and play. Only mealtimes bring some regularity in sound as people file in, eat and move back out.  Although once in a great while a hammering or machine roar accompanies the meal prayers, an odd pairing of the old and new.

In my cottage room at night, echoes of the day still resonate across campus they descend into a night murmur. I fall asleep to the calm whispers of the completed day, knowing I’ll wake to the war of wind and birds.