Vengo del Monte

We took a family day trip to Rio Negro over the weekend, a little over an hour outside the city and into the mountains. Although I was born in Medellin, I was raised in the U.S. and now find myself a foreigner in my homeland. In Colombia, I’m viewed as an American and rightfully so. Since I grew up in Rhode Island and New Jersey, nothing reminds me more of my foreigner status than the mountains that surround Medellin. As hard as they are to avoid, I suspect most city Paisas barely notice them. My mother-in-law often forgets they’re even there. It’s like living in Jersey City and no longer being awed by the Manhattan skyline.  My new relationship with Medellin’s mountains and my mother-in-law’s indifference to their existence has led me to believe that it’s only when you leave their presence that you begin to appreciate their beauty and importance in shaping your identity. Who would my mother-in-law be without those mountains?

The immigration of Cubans and Puerto Ricans fueled the salsa boom of the late 60s and early 70s through the influx of amazingly talented musicians and the audience they tailored. As an immigrant, I believe it’s this connection with “where you’re from” and that yearning for familiarity that my mother-in-law lives that begins to shape you as a Latino in the U.S. You begin to think of yourself in terms of the pride for your homeland, your mountains. Just as the concrete jungle is a source of pride for New Yorkers, so too are the montañas for Paisas. This in part is why I moved back to Medellin.

Trumpeter Tommy Olivencia understood this when he released Vengo del Monte in 1976 on the album Introducing Lalo Rodriguez and Simon Perez. Even 34 years later, I believe he speaks to assure us that you are from the mountains and they will always be “within you” just as the New York skyline will always be part of a Brooklynite. It brings me a certain sense of comfort the thought that although I didn’t grow up with mountains, I brought them with me when my mother brought us to the states. They are part of what makes me.

Vengo del Monte by Tommy Olivencia

Lalo Rodriguez on vocals doesn’t fall short of having monte adentro on his interpretation of Olivencia’s Vengo del Monte. The killa trumpet and timables solos on this track are speaking to those Nuyoricans and hyphenated Americans who dared leave their homelands. They understand our experience.

Watch Emilio and Zagala’s group from Santiago, Chile perform Olivencia’s Vengo del Monte:

It’s an understatement to say that the beautiful landscape I witness daily inspires me as it has for many salsa clasica composers. Cuba and Puerto Rico have equally impressive scenery. It’s what Maria Burgos means when she sings of having “monte adentro” on Vengo del Monte off La Controversia’s album, Vision Divina. Although I don’t know specifically what La Controversia meant by "Vengo del Monte", aside from letting us know that they come from the mountains, I learned of an interesting Colombian campesino’s experience this weekend on my trip to Rio Negro.

While at the park, we were approached by La Loca del Pueblo. She had a particular accent while she told us jokes and promoted the play being held in an hour. Since my mother-in-law previously worked at that park, she told me the story of artists similar to La Loca. Due to lack of jobs in the country side, artists travel from remote rural areas in the mountains to town centers or cities to make a living performing for tourists and city slickers. When Maria Burgos sings Vengo del Monte, I thought of La Loca’s experience, specifically when she sings in the first 53 seconds of the song:

Vengo del Monte by La Controversia

Vengo del monte
Yo Vengo del monte
Y yo te quiero cantar
Porque lo que traigo es salsa y se que te va gustar
Porque lo que traigo es salsa y se que te va gustar

Con todo los ingredientes
Para todo los rumberos
Que le gusta guaguanco, son montuno, y el bolero
Que le gusta guaguanco, son montuno, y el bolero

As I thought of La Loca, I imagined La Controversia traveling from the country side to perform guaguancos, son montunos, and boleros on a routine basis. Each time, the trombonist plays that sweet solo from minute 1:08 to 1:45 as a testament to his campesino skills while the timbalero unleashes the mountain’s fury from minute 2:41 to 3:28. Similar to La Loca, all this was done in an effort to entertain us the audience.

Here’s another cool song inspired by mountains: Quemando Monte by Pluma y Su Salsa. I threw this one in the post as Pluma is Colombian. Perhaps the very same mountains that awed me this weekend moved him to take on this song. The vocalist in Quemando Monte tells the story of jibaro farmers burning an area in the mountains to plant their harvest but the burning happens to get out of control. As we traveled down the mountain back from our Rio Negro trip, we actually saw a plot of land on the side of a mountain burning. I wish I had my camera ready (stupid battery ran out). Luckily I had my mp3 player with Quemando Monte handy and could close my eyes to experience the singer’s story telling. I imagined a campesino sitting in the middle of a burning patch fueling the fire with his organ on minute 2:11 to 2:40.

Quemando Monte by Pluma y Su Salsa

What makes this music so universal and appealing to dancers and listeners alike, even those that don’t speak the language, are the musicians’ ability to convey their experiences through solos. Without you even knowing what the lyrics mean you can feel La Loca’s trip from el campo, Olivencia’s understanding of an immigrant’s need to assert his identity in an alien culture, and Pluma’s tales through the voice of a smooth trumpet or the energy of a timbalero. Combining the dancer’s own experiences with those transmitted by the musician is when you get a true connection on the dance floor. It’s all about the music’s relationship to our experience both in life and on the dance floor.

Peace
DJ Walt