What can I say about quarantine that hasn’t already been said?
Over the past few months, I have read various thoughtful and eloquent reflections on the pandemic. These pieces have often explored the class and race issues that are inevitably entwined with the COVID-19 crisis, as well as issues of accessibility to resources and public health concerns. The virus is global, but its impact on us varies widely.
I am incredibly privileged and blessed to be in a position where the pandemic hasn’t been personally detrimental. Sure, I quarantined with my loud Arab family; we argued constantly and made copious amounts of hummus and baba ghanoush as peace offerings. My cat was quite upset that we were suddenly in his space. My parents started baking bread. I haven’t hugged my immunocompromised best friend since February. But everyone in my family was able to work from home or take time off from work—options that should have been a right for everybody, but weren’t. My cat adjusted and simply started to ignore us. The bread my parents made was delicious. And I am certain that one day, my arms will be wrapped around my best friend—without us having to fear for her life.
If there is one commonality that people are experiencing, it is that the virus has stalled us. We have had to change or adjust our future plans—about school, about living situations, even about vacations. For me, this summer was supposed to be a highlight: my friends and I had been saving up to travel around Thailand. Through long essays and exhausting academic projects, this trip was my source of light at the end of the tunnel.
The pandemic may have stopped me from physically travelling, but I took matters into my own hands. My room is approximately 5×5 metres, but in this space, I have seen more of the world than I ever dreamed to. Thanks to my Spotify Discover Weekly Playlist and bleary late-night Wikipedia searches, I was able to spend the past few months embarking on a journey that introduced me to art from all corners of the world.
This summer, I went to Ethiopia. On the album Wede Harer Guzo by Hailu Mergia and the Dahlak Band, every song is dreamier than the one before. Mergia is an iconic, but sometimes forgotten, Ethio-Jazz legend. Originally recorded in 1978 in Addis Ababa but only released in 2016, Wede Harer Guzo is an intoxicating album. Standout songs include the title track, “Anchin Kfu Ayinkash”, and “Embuwa Bey Lamitu.”
This summer, I visited the Dutch. YĪN YĪN is an upcoming Thai-inspired band from the Netherlands; their full-length album is titled The Rabbit that Hunts Tigers. YĪN YĪN makes psychedelic cowboy music—whilst throwing funk and house music into the mix. “One Inch Punch” and “Dion Ysiusk” are particularly delicious.
I did not have to take a plane to Italy, for Italy came to me in the booming voice of Jerry Vale. The late musician was known for his passionate singing, as well as his blend of English and Italian lyrics. If you’re interested in listening to his music, Jerry Vale Sings the Great Italian Hits is a fantastic place to start. Just be ready to yearn, because my beloved Jerry is sure to make you want to fall in love and sing all about it.
My next stop was Japan, with the Southern All Stars. This J-Pop band has been making music since the late 70s and, thankfully has not stopped. I am grateful to my friend Jade for coming across the strange cover of their 2018 album Umi no Oh, Yeah!!, which features humans dressed as sea animals. Their music is just as eclectic (and delightful).
In Cambodia, I visited Khmer icons Sinn Sisamouth and Ros Serey Sothea. In Turkey, I had coffee with Derya Yildirim and Selda Bağcan. Glass Animals’ newest album brought me to their lead singer’s hometown in Texas. In Taiwan, I found James Chen and his single folk-rock album. In Korea, I drove with windows down to Kim Jung Mi. In Egypt, I reconnected with the songs of Najat and Abdel Halim Hafiz, figures that were always singing and dancing on my family’s television screen. I don’t think I ever properly listened to them until now.
Our summers may have been stalled, but art is a space where we can all seek comfort. Many people I know have spent this time feeling nostalgic for the past. One of my friends re-discovered her love for One Direction. And if you see me reading Stephanie Meyer’s Midnight Sun later this year, just mind your own business! Others are learning new recipes or watching shows from other parts of the world, such as Ireland’s Normal People or Germany’s Dark.
In times of crisis, we turn to what comforts us most. Personally, I am comforted by the fact that there is so much to do and to see—from my own suburban bedroom, too! This time last year, how could I have ever known that I would be clumsily swaying to strange psychedelic tunes—or that this dreamy music would spark my imagination and take me all around the world ?
With that being said, where have you travelled this summer?
Comments are closed.