Position Missionary

 It was another steamy morning in St. Lucia.  Private school children from the nearby academy are directed outdoors with chairs and tucked into whatever shade could be found.  Storm clouds move quickly over the mountains and a sudden breeze lifts branches and presses leaves sideways. The heat of the sun is so strong that the strings on the cello drop in pitch in surrender.

The primary grades assemble under a prolific and nearly ripe mango tree.  The early childhood group camps out 30 paces away  underneath a porch and the secondary school students cluster under a different tree, even further afield, literally.

My job?  To address all the students and convince them to seek fulfillment in studying violin, viola or cello at St. Lucia School of Music.  Not an easy audience!  This situation needs a microphone.  So a P.A. is located, and a half hour later,  I am schilling for the music school and continually reminding the students I don't teach guitar.

Minus the microphone, this scene reminds me of vintage photographs of missionary schools in rural Africa.  Haphazard assemblies outdoors, a dirt floor and leaf canopy.  I guess, I am a missionary for orchestra.  Music is my religion, and here I am, in a corner of the earth where stringed instruments aren't manufactured and are dear to maintain. Orchestra may still an anomaly in the Caribbean, but not for much longer!