As I walked Georgia towards the park on Meridian Hill, we could hear the sound of the drums, growing louder and louder.  

We passed a 13-basin cascade fountain at the bottom of the park, then climbed up the staircase. Once we arrived at the upper park, we were transfixed by a vivacious group of drummers gathered loosely around a circle. There were a broad range of musicians with instruments of all shapes and sizes such as cowbells, wooden sticks, gourd rattle and egg shakers weaving West African rhythms together. 

It was a kaleidoscope of drummers, dancers, acrobats and artists. Nearby, merchants setup shop by the equestrian statue of Joan of Arc riding into battle.  Hippie chicks with locs selling cannabis-infused baked goods. Yogis communed in restorative meditation. Friends and family held light conversation, thinking, listening, collaborating, resting.  People riding bikes, flipping skateboards, walking dogs – plenty of action to keep Georgia excited. 

The drum circle originated during the civil rights movement in the 1960’s as a celebration of black liberation.  On February 12, 1965, the day that Malcolm X was assassinated drummers joined in the park in remembrance of him and since then the drum circle has been called the Malcolm X Park Drum Circle.  Today, drumming has provided a way for Black Washingtonians to connect with African culture. And for White Washingtonians, a way to learn about the long history of the Civil Rights struggle in the city.

“So many different people from different backgrounds and walks of life coming together on a Sunday afternoon to unite as one,” I said.

“Absolutely. Drumming is uplifting for me. It’s good for my heart…it’s an art form,” 

Sonia was happy to see Georgia, and my Pitbull Lab mix was thrilled to see her also, furiously wagging her tail and giving her bestie a long, wet, sloppy embrace.

Georgia enjoyed taking Sonia for high-energy walks along the Mall where she always led the way, chasing squirrels and interacting with other dogs. And of course, Apollo loved interacting with them both, but preferred Sonia for himself.

“Wish I could take Georgia camping to Great Falls.”

“You’re more than welcomed to pick her up anytime.  But Apollo might get a tad bit jealous.”

“But I live so far away in Bowie (MD).”

“Then you should move to DC. I’ve got a spare room in the basement.”

“I will never live in Anacostia, it’s an arts and craft desert there.”

“Maybe in the past, but talent stream is rising. Young people are moving in and there’s a big arts movement afoot.”

“But isn’t it dangerous? Has anything bad ever happened to you?”

“Yes, I was mugged in 2008.  I was stepping from my car when I saw a guy walking in front of my house. I gave him eye contact and said ‘Hi.’  The next thing I know he puts a gun behind my head and followed me inside my house where he grabbed my laptop and both sets of my keys.”

“Wow! Did he ever come back?”

“Thankfully I never saw him again.”

“Surprised you didn’t move out?”

“Though it was unfortunate that it happened, I condemn the act, but not the person.”

“So if you saw him again, what would you do?”

“I would say ‘Hi’ again and ask him how he’s doing.  Tell him I forgive him and how I can help. People are building bridges in my neighborhood now and areas east of the Anacostia river. We’re products of circumstances and history. And the same problems that exist in Anacostia apply everywhere.  My community is a place where people are reaching out and it shows the possibility of change and a beacon of hope.”

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard you say.”

“Well, I didn’t say it. I credit Arthur Magee from Belfast, Northern Ireland.”

It was a little after 9 the following Friday, when Sonia and I walked into a run-down building on Shannon Place SE called the Lightbox

Sonia had low expectations, but upon entry she was blown away by the vibrant atmosphere.  There was live music, dancing, performance art on display, a Busboys and Poets pop-up restaurant and a tight-knit community all in an old police storage warehouse.  Just like in Meridian Hill Park, the beat and rhythm of the music was entertaining and invigorating.

Since we brought Georgia last week to Meridian Hill park, it was Apollo’s turn for a night out.

“Lumen8 what an interesting title.”

“It’s quite symbolic. Lumen is a measure of light equal to one candle intensity.  The number 8 represents Ward 8, the poorest and most deprived ward in the city.  But phonetically, it also brings to mind ‘illuminate.’ Based on other all-night arts events throughout the country.”

Anacostia may have a bad reputation, and we long to shed our rough and tough image.  Some people across the river treat us like we’re second class citizens. But we’re no different than anyone else. We enjoy quality art and music, and today we’re bringing that talent across the river to Ward 8.

And Apollo, as usual, served as the friendly ambassador flying around the warehouse, uniting people together.  When he jumped on Sonia’s friend, Warrie, she let out a sharp scream.

“I moved to DC on a whim four years ago, and it was one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life,” said Warrie. “Housing is exorbitant, but there are great deals to be had east of the River.  Hopefully Lumen8 can attract different people to cross the bridge and realize that Anacostia is not so scary after all.”

“So what type of art do you participate in?” I asked Sonia.

“I teach yoga. I play the violin and I like to do belly dancing.”

“Oh? Belly dancing? What does that entail?”

“It’s an ancient art form.  Come to my gig next month and you’ll see it for yourself.”

Tel’ Veh, a Turkish restaurant on the cutting edge of the Mount Vernon Triangle, was popular with guests due to their exotic, Mediterranean cuisine and generous happy hour specials.  The restaurant was contemporary but not overdone and unlike other restaurants closer to the Verizon Center core, she was graced with colossal, beautifully curved windows and tall ceilings adorned by an elegant chandelier.  Tonight the taverna was filled with revelers swaying to the harmony from a Turkish guitar and a lively street drummer. Together they formed a melodic duet deriving their rich tunes from the Balkan peninsular. But the acoustics and drums were not what the packed crowds came to see.  

Gyrating in the center of the spacious dining room was the graceful Sonia, spinning deftly while tossing her shiny veil over her voluptuous shoulders.  Through her dramatic hip movements and sensuous shimmies, she moved sinuously to the rhythm, evoking mystery and artistry.

The guests cheered enthusiastically adoring every detail of her choreography, chanting and clapping at each hypnotic movement. After a tireless hour-long performance to the high-tempo music, Sonia was on fire and the crowds responded with a standing ovation. Sonia graciously thanked every member of the audience, then gestured me to meet the owner. 

“Emir, this is Chito.  He does photography and websites.  He has his own site that will also feature your dishes.  You guys should talk.”

Needless to say, Emir was very thankful for Sonia’s performance. She had agreed to waive her fee and only work for a large tab.  And he was inclined to pay back the favor by hiring me to redesign their site.  I was now starting to move beyond Chinatown and was grateful for Sonia and Suzannah for providing me solid leads.