Now I know why the caged bird sings

I received an interesting email a couple of weeks ago from Matt Bigg, who many of you will know is a former Reuters colleague now based in Ghana.

Matt and I first worked together in East Africa around 1996, and was part of a fantastic bureau I was privileged to head that included Simon Denyer, Ros Russell, Julian Rake, Corine Dufka, Kieran Murray, Elizabeth Matambanadzo, Patrick Muiruri, George Mulala, Tony Njuguna, Marc Detemple, Wambui Chege, Manoah Esipisu, Pedja Stanisic, Peter Andrews and … I bet I’ve forgotten a few key people here so please forgive me. I certainly won’t forget the amazing Kim Waters either, best country manager I ever worked with.

Coincidentally, Matt took over from me as Reuters Bureau Chief in Jakarta when I left in 2011.

Anyway, I’ll post his email so you can read it in his own words, and my response follows. It has been contact like this from around the world that has really sustained me through all of this, and I can’t thank you enough.

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Hi David,

How are you man? I feel like I know the answer, at least partly, through reading your blog.

When I first heard what happened last October the last thing I expected was to get regular updates about your life. It’s been a revelation.

I have a favour to ask.

What music have you been listening to? Could you send me the name of either one, or four, songs that I could play to the girls.

Let me explain.

Since January 2014, Soila, Nina and I have been playing a kind of game each morning while I drive them to school called Song of the Week. Each morning, Monday-Thursday, we play a different song (so four different songs) and on the Friday they chose their favourite, which we call the Song of the Week.

The idea is to introduce the girls to music they would never otherwise hear and in the nearly four-years we’ve been doing it we’ve listened to music from around the world and from every century from the 16th to the 21st. We’ve listened to hip hop and Icelandic folk music, Kora music from Mali and Korean pop, classical, opera, jazz, show tunes and on and on.

Once in a while we have a guest presenter. We invite that person to send us a list of four songs that we can play on YouTube and explain why they like them. Olivia, for example, did a Song of the Week, which included some Indonesian folk music, some rock, and Top of the World by the Carpenters, which her mother used to play her.

I was wondering whether you could do a Song of the Week for us, maybe focusing on the music you’ve been listening to in recent months. The girls know about you and it would be a great way to bring you closer as they’ve been asking about you a lot.

Give it a thought. It would be great if you could, but don’t worry if the idea seems too outlandish or whatever.

Yours,

Matt

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My reply (and I hope you’ll click on the links and give them a listen…):

Dear Matt, Soila and Nina

What a fantastic idea. I’m honoured you’ve asked! I feel like I’m on desert island discs …

As you can guess, I am literally counting down the days until my release — 17 more “sleeps”, as my nieces insist on stating it.

From here I’ll go straight to Chiang Mai in northern Thailand for a 30-day retreat at a rehab center called The Cabin. As I am likely to be banned from Indonesia for at least three months, I think it is a rather sensible way to come down from the madness of the last seven months.

From there I’ll probably go to Zim for a month or so and then perhaps Cambodia, where Rake is based, as I have the offer of an apartment (Tanya Pang, ex Reuters) there for bit. Hopefully back to Bali after that.

I’m mentally and physically strong and happy with the way I’ve pulled through this, although I am well aware that being free is likely to pose as big a challenge as jail. I certainly couldn’t have done it without the love and support of so many people on the outside.

So, to the music. It’s actually quite an easy task as four songs very definitely stick in my mind from this ordeal.

1) Dia, by Anji

This is arecent Indonesian love song that became an instant classic and is very easy on the ear even if you don’t speak the language.

The title, Dia, means “She” or “Her” (it can also mean “He” or “Him” as the pronoun is neutral) and the song tells the story of a man, broken hearted from a previous love, who accidentally meets a beautiful girl and slowly learns to love again, mending his broken heart.

The chorus, to be sung lustily in the car, goes:

“Oh Tuhan, ku cinta Dia,
Ku sayang Dia, rindu Dia, Inginkan Dia
Utuhkanlah rasa cinta dihatiku
Hanya padanya, untuk Dia”

Translated:

“Oh God, I love her
She’s my love, I miss her, I want her
That love is kept in my heart,
Always faithful, only for her”

The song has special meaning because the guards would always play it over the intercom after visiting on Tuesdays and Thursdays when I was being held in Polresta remand jail. All of us had only recently been arrested and so we were bewildered, frightened even, and seeing our friends, girlfriends and wives and having to explain how we came to be there. You definitely had the realization you were in trouble, and that you had caused trouble for those you loved. Often you would see even the prison tough guys with tears in their eyes as they pressed their palms against the perspex visiting windows to the hands of their loved ones, knowing it would be a long time before they’d be able to properly touch them. When the visitors had left, the guards would play the song and most of the prisoners would sing along. It was the first Indonesia song I learnt by heart and even today, when I walk around the prison, one of the inmates will shout “Oh Tuhan” and I will carry on the song in my somewhat deep voice, much to the amusement of all.

2) Folsom Prison blues, by Johnny Cash

I can hear the guitar chords in my head and I used to play it in my mind a lot in the early days of my imprisonment when I couldn’t sleep. The rhythm, which sounds so much like a train going down the track, really helps send you to sleep. Johnny Cash was always a great supporter of the rights of prisoners and this version is him performing live at San Quentin prison.

3) Tie a Yellow Ribbon round the Old Oak Tree, by Tony Orlando and Dawn

This was a very cheesy song that was a hit when I was growing up in Zimbabwe in the 70s. The lyrics tell of someone who is coming home after three years away — it is implied that the singer has been in jail, but it could equally mean has been away at university, or serving in the military overseas. The song enjoyed a massive resurgence after the Iranian revolution when revolutionary guards held hostage 54 U.S. embassy employees in Tehran in a siege lasting 444 days, and was appropriated by tens of thousands of Americans who tied yellow ribbons around trees to welcome their compatriots home. It is a song that entered my mind and never left after an ex-girlfriend visited me in jail and said she would be waiting for me when I was released. Instead of a yellow ribbon, however, I imagined her tying a Bali sarong around a tree as you can see every day across the island, and so in my head I sang “Tie a checked sarong around the banyan tree”.

4) Lay You Down On a Bed of Roses by Bon Jovi

This classic rock ballad is about someone who wakes up in the morning realizing they have made a terrible mistake, letting down the person (or people) they love. It was the only English language song that the guards would play over the loudspeaker, but the words had a literal as well as metaphorical meaning for me because the chorus goes:

“I want to lay you down on a bed of roses,
While I sleep on a bed of nails”

For the first month I was in prison I had to sleep on the floor, with no mattress, and so every night I would imagine my friends, family and loved ones, the people I had let down, sleeping in a comfy bed while I had it rough. Again, it is best appreciated by singing the chorus really loudly in the car!

I hope you like my song choices. I will be very interested to hear which one is your favourite and if the choice is unanimous, so let me know. I won’t tell you which is my favourite until afterwards.

Lots of love

Fox

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It turns out that this week, my last in prison, is the week they’ve chosen to listen to my selection and I’ve had the great pleasure of getting a voice mail from them every day when they arrive at school commenting on my choice.

Things like this really make me realize how lucky I am.