A Twangy Kind of Knowledge

There are a lot of things you could expect me to be learning right now in Germany. And you'd probably be right: in daily life, I am learning the language, in classes and within my program I'm making good friends, the fully equipped kitchen right outside my door is making me a better cook, the exchange rate is turning me into a thriftier shopper, the weather is making me learn to love and appreciate my umbrella. I am now a confident user of public transportation in all forms, adequately prepared to navigate the German postal service, and (finally) capable of ordering tap water free of charge at a restaurant. That last one, surprisingly, took the longest to master. It's all in the vocabulary.

Something that you may not have guessed that I'm learning in Regensburg is how to play the banjo. And yet, as I sit here writing this post, I am looking at a beautiful, 35-year-old, American-made banjo on loan to me from my German grammar teacher (Sepp Frank). One would think, perhaps, that the inspiration to learn this instrument would have come to me sooner; for instance, at any point over the past three years that I have been living in the country music capitol of the world. But amazingly enough, I have been connected to (surely) one of the only banjo players in the entirety of Europe. He also happens to be one of the most generous souls I have ever met.

Over the last six months or so, I have been developing an interest in learning to play the banjo. I played guitar quite a bit in high school, and though I didn't keep up with it very well in college, something about Regensburg has rekindled my passion for making music. The desire to play the banjo really began when I heard the song "For the Widows in Paradise" by Sufjan Stevens for the first time (if you've never heard it, I highly recommend that you stop reading, go to this link, and listen). Every time I've listened to that song since, I haven't been able to shake the feeling that I needed to learn how to play it. And now, thanks to Sepp Frank, a man of extraordinary talent (both in teaching and in music) and inner kindness, I can proudly say that I can clank out a rough version of that song on the banjo.


Things have really picked up now that my brother Will is here visiting me for his spring break. The classic pairing of guitar and banjo is thrilling to me, but I'm not sure if my new flatmate Phil feels the same. . .