Hurdy Gurdy

Today:

I was trying to make it to a Chicago Humanities Festival Event that started at 10am, but a long train came across my path and then my debit card wouldn't work in the CTA's machine, so I had to use up all my cash, and then I was several stops down on the orange line when I realized that, once again, I had forgotten to shove the $2 into the little pay-for-parking slot. I got off the train and waited on the chilly platform for the next outbound train, which I took back to Midway. Since I didn't have any cash and I knew the ATM would charge me and not even give me the correct bills, I just went out to the parking lot in defeat. I was tired, in a very relaxed way, and it didn't bother me that I was just going to have to face the fact that I had not been paying attention to anything all morning and that I had to go back to Trinity, find some cash, and regroup.

So I'm driving down Cicero and suddenly I find myself turning into a strip mall's parking lot. I finally wake up and realize that this is good because I can get something I need and get cash back and get the correct bills all at the same time. So after that my day stopped being so lame.

Downtown again, I stopped by the Cultural Center to view the crocheted coral reef, then took my chance to wander around the Art Institute before the event there started. The event was a performance of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, done skillfully by four violins, a cello, a bass, and a harpsichord. It was so good that a joyful laughter was mixed with my applause. After exiting the auditorium when the concert came to its too-soon end, I realized that my very important name badge had fallen to the floor. I returned and found it in the hands of a volunteer who was cleaning up trash. While I was there, I noticed that several audience members had gone up on stage to talk to the musicians, and that there were two little girls oohing and awing over the beautiful harpsichord.


I saw my chance to make this not only the first day I've ever seen a harpsichord in action, but also the first day to see how a harpsichord works. I watched as he removed the board that covered the hammers and explained the acoustics of the instrument. The little girls moved on to looking at the painting on the underside of the harpsichord's lid, the harpsichordist asked me if I would like to try it out, and the harpsichordist moved on to talking to another audience member.

That is how I ended up seated at a harpsichord on the stage in the beautiful concert hall in the Art Institute of Chicago, playing "O Lord, You're Beautiful," not only because that is one of the only songs I have memorized, but because it just fit.

The next event I went to was a reenactment of a Mediaeval Bible play, Noye's Fludde. Part of the accompaniment to the song and dance was a hurdy gurdy, which I saw up close at the end of the performance.

I walked around Chicago for quite some time, enjoying just being alone, without a schedule, and yet still surrounded by activity. Then I went to an event called "Wars of Scarcity," in which they interviewed Valentino, a man who lived through war, estrangement from his family, refugee camps, and a transition to life in the United States. He is raising awareness of Sudan's plight while he finishes his education, which is preparing him to return to his country as a leader.

After some more wandering (Not all who wander are lost: during my wanderings, a passerby asked me "which way to Chestnut?" and I could tell her, thanks to my previous wanderings, in which I was kind of lost, I guess.), I found a secluded seat on the CTA and traveled back to Trinity.