I found the Rastas!

My roommate Ivona (from Slovenia) always finds the coolest things to do around town, for free.  One place in particular she talks about almost everyday; the Tabacalera.  There are always free concerts, shows, parties, etc.  This past Saurday, I told her that the next time she goes I would tag along.  Of course she told me she was going that night.  I was hesitant because I was still recovering from our crazy house party and night out on Friday, but I said what the hell, and I joined her.  Tabacalera is a very old tobacco factory, with lots of open space, where they now hold concerts and such.  It looks kind of like an abandoned warehouse/cave.  I knew in the back of my mind that this place would be a little bit "hippie," but I was down to try something new.  It is located in the neighborhood I spoke of before, Lavapies, which is filled with an immigrant/hippie population.  When I walked through the large stone-carved doors I knew immediately that this would be an interesting experience.

I looked around and saw an array of people; rocksters, dressed in all black; hippies and rastas with long dreads; piercings everywhere. There I was with my tie-dyed Mark Sperry's, and my purple cashmere scarf (clean as a whistle I must say).  I saw many posters on every wall advertising different concerts; rock, electronic, neo-soul, pop, and reggae.  There were signs for many different types of dance classes; salsa, flamenco, african, etc, and even African drumming class.  As I walked further into the large open venue, I inhaled and got a strong whiff of Mary Jane.  Almost every person had a huge cup of beer in their hands.  The place is so huge that there are always 2 or 3 concerts going on at once.  I, of course was going to the reggae concert!  Having family from the Carribbean, I hve a soft spot for reggae music; I love it.  I was excited, but also prepared for the fact that it might not have been "real reggae," afterall we are in Spain; no connection to reggae at all. 

My roommates came and found me at the entrance and we headed to the very back room (if you want to call it that), where everything began to look like a huge wet cave, filled with people.  Before we could reach our destination, a short African guy, dressed in "urban wear," rapidly approached me and grabbed my hand.  I tried to keep walking, as I wasn't in the mood for foolery and was anxious to see the show.  He would not give up.  Soon he was walking and talking with me as if he had known me forever, and then introduced me to his friends as if we hadn't just met.  He then told me that it was his band that was going to be playing later.  Of course I did not believe him! The band that was on stage at the time had a couple singers, drummer, bass, and keyboard player.  The melodies were sweet sounds of raw, undergroud reggae, which I was very familiar with. I made my way to the front of the crowd, where people were "lighting up" and vibing to the rhythms.  The singer was actually a very hippie spanish girl, and as I got closer I realized that the band members were my new Brazilian friends who had come to our house party! I was impressed with their skills.  The Spanish girl gave a short intro to her next song called "Sin Papel," which means "no papers."  The song was quite comical to me, but as I listened closely to the words, I realized that she was speaking directly to the immigrant population and their struggle to live day to day away from their home country.  She spit some really deep verses, and by the looks of many faces in the crowd, many had been affected by this plight.  However, they laughed and danced, and made light of their struggle as if the music had given them some kind of new life.

Another band made their way to the stage.  Low and behold, my small African friend was indeed the lead singer!  The group had so much energy, and it immediately transmitted to the crowd, as everyone started awkwardly dancing as they knew how and jumping up and down.  I hestitated to join in at first, but then I figured in that particular environment I would be far from judged for acting a fool.  They started playing one of my favorite songs, "Natty Dread," and I got even more hype!  Frenchie was amused and she kept taking pictures of me.  That song just about made my night.  I could literally feel the singers' forceful voices coming from the pits of their stomachs.  You could see the passion in their eyes, and their struggle in their prominent veins. (I had to to record it!  Check the video!)  Towards the end of the performance, my new friend Sanka walked toward me in the front row, looked me dead in the eyes, and sang the last part of the song.  I loved it!

After the concert, around 11:30, I followed my friends and roommates to the upper level of the Tabacalera.  As usual, we made some random new friends on the way; 2 Moroccan men who had been talking to my French roommate.  Thet tagged along with us and I soon realized they were a bit sketch.  They both looked like they were somewhat strung out, on God knows what.  Anyway, they were practicing Arabic with me so I didn't complain just yet.  They were very "interesting" characters.  Upstairs, there was a very random birthday party going on.  Somehow, we joined in on the fun and got some cake!  We headed to the street, and our sketchy Moroccan friends followed.  We ended up at this really cute Brazilian bar!  It was really nice and I wanted to stay, but the 2 guys were getting a little annoying and there was too much smoke (as usual) so I said my goodbyes and left.  I was very satisfied with my "rasta experience," and I shall return!