The Drummer Who Was Kicked Out of America
His name is Eyasu. In his native tongue of Amharic this translates to “God rescues.” I heard his voice before I ever saw his face. I was parking my car behind my apartment when I heard a resonant lullaby echoing from inside a garage. The melody was soft and soothing with words that sounded African. The accompanying percussive rhythm sounded like a marimba or xylophone.
When the garage door opened, a short man with loose dreads and coal black skin stepped into the alley. He wore a white dashiki, linen pants and bright yellow shoes. He regarded me with a smile and lit a cigarette.
“Was that your music,” I asked.
“It’s a new piece. It’s not finished yet.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He told me he was from Addis Ababa. He came to America in 2016 on a P-3 Visa to teach and perform traditional African music. He lived in a small room above an Ethiopian restaurant on Fairfax Avenue in Los Angeles. The garage was his recording studio. I told him I was a drummer in my younger days and he proudly showed me his drum collection. He had a djembe from Mali, a Nigerian talking drum, a Sudanese ashiko and an Egyptian tabla. He invited me to jam with him any time.
Over the next few months, I encountered Eyasu often. We spoke about his family back in Ethiopia, how he was the…
