I
love radio.
When I was younger I never really understood the point. I was irritated by most radio announcers who seemed to have little to add to any conversation. And why just listen, when you can watch, I thought? TV seemed
infinitely superior to radio, which seemed like its ugly cousin. And why would you want to listen to the music someone else had selected, anyway, when you could choose it yourself with tapes and records and then, wonder of wonders,
CDs? (Yes, kiddies, I'm
that old.)
Well, I've come around completely, and for many years now radio has been rather an obsession. I think I "discovered" (American)
National Public Radio when I was on a road trip -- maybe when I was driving up to northern Minnesota with Mom and all we were able to find was the worst top-of-the-charts country, some evangelical Christian talk radio, and NPR news.
I became a real junkie around the time I started commuting by car between San Francisco and Emeryville to a job at
Avalon Travel Publishing years ago. And I've never looked back. When I was in Hungary, and the streaming technologies were just getting going, and I had an incredibly crappy ISDN line for internet, I used to lie on the parquet floor underneath my desk where my laptop slowly and laboriously downloaded a program in fits and starts and I would tingle with emotion, a strange mix of homesickness and relief.
KQED was my most beloved station for a very long time, and even when I spent two years listening to
KUT in Austin, I longed for its programming and schedule, which had come to feel natural as a heartbeat to me. When afternoon rolled around and I didn't hear
All Things Considered, I felt irritated, slighted. Didn't they understand it was
the time for that unique blend of quirky, funny, heartfelt, and off-the-beaten-track you find there?
Lately, though, I think I've been won over completely by
Michigan radio, which has some
wonderful programs I had never heard back in California. Through it I've discovered the joys of Lynne Rosetto Kasper's
Splendid Table, Dick Gordon's
The Story, which often leaves me open-mouthed with wonder, and the ever-incisive
Diane Rehm, who has an amazing knack for keeping her finger on the pulse of the American zeitgeist.
Since radio broadcasts have started becoming available over the web, it adds a whole new level of possibilities. Downloading podcasts for long drives, or walking commutes. . . it's a wonderful world. But I also
really appreciate the streaming capabilities, particularly with non-US-based radio stations. One day, just for the hell of it, I decided it would be quite interesting to listen to a radio station in a place I know next to nothing about. So, I settled on Namibia. And then Besim, who was sitting on the couch wondering
what was going on, directed us to Trinidad and Tobago. You can go most anywhere to listen to both majority and minority stations at
RadioStationWorld. You might be surprised what you find.
One station you
won't find there, though, as of yet, is one that is very near and dear to my heart for a variety of reasons, one I sometimes tune in to, thanks to streaming technology, and turn on at full blast on my favored PC in the doctoral lab when it's late at night and I'm there by myself trying to finish a paper.
Rádió C, short for
cigány, or the Hungarian word for "Gypsy," is a station that started several years ago in Budapest. It's been plagued with financial troubles, accusations of corruption, and loads of other troubles, but for now it's still in business. Sometimes I think I need to write at least a bit about it in my dissertation.
Why is it great to listen to? Well, think about Romani musical talent, for a moment, whether or not you buy into the "it's in the blood" ideology that even Roma themselves often promote. And then think, don't musicians always listen to the coolest music of all? Well, I sure think so. There's lots of Hungarian Romani music, for sure, but they also play unexpected jazz, plenty of pop from all over the world. You even hear Hindi filmi music sometimes. And sure, yes, they announce in Hungarian, and have some talk-radio shows. But most of the time it's music, and a mix you won't hear anywhere else.
Check it out. (Just choose your preferred media player and format under the heading "Élő adás!")
They say about themselves: "
Budapesten és környékén körülbelül 200,000 cigány ember él (ebből csak Budapesten több mint 100,000!). 2001. október 8-a óta létezik egy rádió, amely közvetlenül nekik szól, az ő nyelvükön, az ő problémáiknak hangot adva. Ez a Rádió ©."
"In Budapest and its environs, about 200,000 Gypsy people live (out of which, in just Budapest, there are more than 100,000). Since October 8, 2001, there has been a radio station that speaks directly to them, in their language, giving voice to their problems. That is Radio C." (translation by yours truly.)
If you find yourself wanting a Hungarian-English dictionary while looking at the site, I recommend the SZTAKI dictionary. However, given the intricacies of Hungarian grammar, with its prefixes and suffixes, and all, it probably won't get you very far. So, I'd encourage you instead to ask your favorite Hungarian-speaker to help you navigate, if you get as far as their website! :)
You may
think that this is what those Romani musicians look like.
Well, maybe they do when they dress up in costumes to perform in a square for a Hungarian public. (I took this photo in Budapest at the Spring Festival in Erzsébet tér in 2003.)
But when they're just hanging out, playing music, they're more likely to look like this.
These are my friends Orhan (on accordion) and Dragan (on guitar), at the
Amala School of Gypsy Language and Culture in Valjevo, Serbia, in August of 2003.
Orhan is (or was, back then) a director in a Romani theater in Skopje, Macedonia. (I've lost track of him and would love to know what happened to him if you know him!)
Dragan Ristić is the
head of the band Kal, which he founded with his brother Dušan.
It has an album out that has become immensely popular in Europe, according to my friend Sani Rifati, founder of
Voice of Roma. Yup, and they've even made it
onto Wikipedia. I should be up on these things, but I've been hiding out in my little world in Detroit & Ann Arbor. But lucky for us, Sani is helping to organize a
tour for them in the United States in fall of 2008.
Okay, now, um, back to the task of grading undergraduate papers, which I'm doing a very good job of avoiding here, clearly.
