my five string

 

Well...actually she's a 6 string.

A couple strings broke the first week I had her and didn't bother replacing them all since I was waiting for a guitar care package from my dad. Sure enough a few weeks ago I received the package containing a set of strings, music, and a turner.

The lack of tuner was my excuse to my host family for not playing. They have been incessantly asking me if and when I will be playing for them. So this is why I have yet to restring or tune my guitar.

Lets get this straight. I am not mean, rude or shy about playing for others. I just don’t know how!

I’m what a friend of mine called a “cliché peace corps volunteer”. It seems as though a good chunk of PCVs purchase guitars at the beginning of their service never having touched one eager to come away semi-pro just to end up selling the thing at the end of their service to new incoming volunteers who have the same false optimism. (this is all true b/c I’ve seen it happen already)

But I plan on being the exception. Yes I know I may possibility be suffering from classic “That only happens to other people but I’m different” disease. 

Let me make my case.

1. I already know how to play “a horse with no name” by a little band named America. You may have heard of them.

2. I come from a long line of guitar players. First, my dad has been jammin’ since the summer of 69 when he got his first real six string. HA ok fine so that’s a song but the man has been playing for as long as I can remember and he’s pretty good.  Then…my uncle Kory bless is little heart left behind a guitar after he passed away and it ended up in my falsely optimistic 13 year old hands. I quickly signed up for guitar lessons and then just as quickly quit going. But I stayed long enough to learn “A Horse with No Name” along with some of the basic chords.  I blame my small fingers.  Then I have two other cousins who play all the time. I mean they really play. We’re talking in front of people. With a band. With fans. So WHY NOT ME!? Right?

3. I’m a classically trained violin player. What I mean to say by this is that I get it. I know music. My fingers are comfortable with strings. My ear has been trained to know when its Right. Wrong. Sharp. Flat. Now this doesn’t mean I can sing but maybe I’ll just stick to songs in G or C or whatever the easiest key might be.

Photographic evidence and inspiration:

            

I know I’m not going to be the next Slash, Flea, Santana or Jimmy (Page or Hendrix) you pick. But I do have a few goal songs.

First to get in with the locals I need to learn Hotel California or some other famous 80’s song. Then for my personal enjoyment I would love to be able to play some of Tristan Prettyman’s songs. Then I need to learn how to play Skinny Love by Bon Iver so I can play with my BFF’s here in El Salvador.  And finally, I would love to get some of the songs my dad plays under my belt so that when I return I can jam out with him and my cousins and uncle during our big family get-togethers. Ya hear that Dad, Kris, Justin and Jarron? :)

About my guitar:

Cost: $40

Make and model : Local handmade guitar shop just outside San Vicente, El Salvador

Additional information: I love. love. love. my purplish woven shoulder strap.

“Dream Deep, for Every Dream Precedes the Goal”

CURRENT STATUS: no calluses on my fingers