Autor:    Julio Castillo Gómez

SECOND CALL

I´m nervous and far from home. I pick up my saxophone. My heart speeds up; I think it´s normal in these situations; but, well, it´s what I like to do. The black curtain that is there: inert, frivolous, dark, separates me from the public. Suddenly I hear a bell that alerts us to the second call to start the concert. I look to one side and the other looking for my companions; they are there, they laugh and joke, although I can see in their faces that they are feeling the same as me, and I wonder: “how did I end up here?”. And then, like lightning, I begin to dust off my memory of those naive days at the INEM School in Montería, when with that vitality typical of childhood, I felt attracted by a golden magnet: the saxophone. It happened when, in a rehearsal, I asked the music master Tobias with a trembling voice:

—Can I?

He, a little incredulous and disturbed by the deafening sounds of trumpets and trombones, asked me the question:

—And where did you come from?

I timidly replied:

—From here.

—And what do you know about music?

—I studied flute and piano with master Pacho.

He looked at me again and said:

—Oh well!

With all the patience and dedication, with that vocation of a teacher, he explained to me:

—Take it like this, play it; no, no; yes, that’s it, that’s it.

He handed me an almost discarded paper, with scars, a survivor, perhaps, of a thousand hands and of stubborn and good battles.

—This is your first melody, then I come to listen to you.

I looked at it, its title: “La mona Carolina”. I thought: “Porro, it´s my thing, I´ve heard it!”. Then, between wasted sounds and howls, I began to play it.

—I played it! —I exclaimed.

From that moment my idyll began with my music, my sinuana and Caribbean music, which I carry in my soul. I began to understand it, to take care of it like a treasure, because the more I listened to it and play it, the more I ratified where I came from and where my dreams should land.

Once again, I hear that murmur of polyphonic conversations on the other side of the curtain, and I think: “I´m sure they´ll like what we´re bringing, I have no doubts”.

What was I up to? Oh yeah! I kept studying, teaching, walking, enjoying music, the saxophone, which is part of me. And the more I walk, always appreciating the sounds of this vibrant planet, the more I am convinced that we are made of culture, that it is our essence; and I thank life, God, for the opportunity he gave me to cultivate the music of one of the most beautiful regions, of a corner that is more than geography, that is song and poetry.

I am here, nervous, sweaty, because the responsibility of representing the culture of my land requires seriousness, dedication, passion. I have a long way to go, maybe my life will end trying to perfect my art, but it´s worth it.

I look at the clock, we ran out of five minutes. The last bell rings. My companions, my brothers, are by my side. We hold hands. We all know what we have to do. It´s been I don´t know how many hours of rehearsal.

Our reward goes beyond the material, ours is sublime...

They slowly raise the curtain. The murmur fades little by little, it is no longer heard. I look at them, they are there for us, for who we are. Now, I just have to focus on giving my best. We take, in unison, a breath of air, and the miracle happens, everything becomes music.