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Former Refugee Provides Music Therapy

 

BY CARA ANNA, Associated Press Writer Tue, May 9th, 9:31 AM ET

ITHACA, N.Y. - "Can we trust you?" the girls asked.

Samite Mulondo told them they could.

Shyly, the three girls, who’d been sexual slaves for rebel soldiers in northern Uganda, asked if he could help them be tested secretly for HIV. And not just them, but 130 others.

Their request surprised Samite. He’d come to Uganda from America to play music and try to ease their pain. This was more than he’d expected.

That moment, and others like it from Africa’s refugee camps and orphanages, are helping Samite build a new kind of foreign aid: Music therapy.

It’s striking how quickly music can bring life to glassy eyes, says the Ithaca-based Samite, a former Ugandan refugee. "You play them two songs and they say, `Can I sing? Can I tell you what happened to me?’"

Samite’s new CD, "Embalasasa," is the latest step in bringing musicians and instruments, and some hope, to African children.

In January, his nonprofit Musicians for World Harmony took nearly a dozen Americans to orphanages in Kenya and Tanzania to meet hundreds of AIDS orphans and former street children. To break the ice, the Americans sang the "Hokey Pokey" and handed out hundreds of instruments, like flutes and kalimbas, or thumb pianos. And with a new digital recording studio as a gift, they helped children burn CDs of themselves singing.

"They sing, and then they die," Samite says, his soft voice cushioning the words. "But it’s important for a kid to say, ‘This is my friend’s voice.’"

It’s not known how many groups like Samite’s exist, if any. A spokesman for the American Music Therapy Association, Al Bumanis, says music therapy was used with victims of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks and the Columbine shootings. Opera singer Luciano Pavarotti supported a music-therapy project in Bosnia after the genocide there. Samite’s work is "unique enough," Bumanis says.

This year, Samite’s work has attracted the attention of the largest music-therapy department in America, at Boston’s Berklee College of Music. Karen Wacks, an associate professor, says the school is talking about putting together an Africa trip for students, and Samite, next year.

The idea came from Amanda Maestro-Scherer, a Berklee junior who went with Samite this year.

She remembers being shown around an AIDS orphanage by a little girl, maybe 10 or 11, named Faith. Then she took out her guitar and asked the girl to help write a song.

"Happy or sad?" Maestro-Scherer asked.

"Sad," Faith said. And she started singing about a girl who was sick and alone who came to an orphanage and found a new home and friends.

Songwriting is a common approach with people who’ve experienced trauma, Maestro-Scherer says. It lets people express themselves indirectly.

"It’s very quick," Wacks adds. "You don’t have to sit and process what someone is thinking or saying. You’re able to access your emotions almost immediately."

Both would like to push music therapy beyond its established role in nursing homes and schools of developed countries and into the places where the 47-year-old Samite ventures.

Samite found his role by accident. He was helping to film a documentary for PBS called "Song of the Refugee" in 1997, but people in Liberia were angry about the cameras. The director suggested that Samite play a song, and he did on his flute. People gathered, and after a while they began singing and playing. Soon the cameraman could shoot anything, Samite says.

Later, in Rwanda, he pulled out his flute again. He was at a transit camp for survivors of the genocide there, and he started playing for a little boy. The boy brought over his friend, and then about 20 more. First they sang, then they told stories of the killings they’d seen.

After that, Samite says, he called his wife in America and told her he now knew why he was a musician. "I woke her up," he says, smiling. "I was actually crying."

As a musician, Samite doesn’t need this kind of work to survive. He tours. He’s working on the soundtrack for a documentary about Nobel Peace Prize winner Wangari Maathai of Kenya.

Glenn Ivers, the producer of the PBS documentary, "Song of the Refugee," has seen enough projects come to Africa and fail. The world gives a lot of aid in food and clothing, but there’s very little for the spiritual side, he says.

The last word comes by e-mail from Kenya, where Anthony Njeru produces videos for musicians across East Africa. He’s been the cameraman for some of Samite’s visits, and he writes, "It is very important to understand the place of music to the African. It is as everyday as food."

Music as therapy isn’t always quick and easy, he says. He remembers a boy at one AIDS orphanage who refused to talk about his feelings on Samite’s first visit last year. But unlike many who visit Africa, Samite came back.

"This kid took him to the small cemetery holding tiny mounds of flower-filled earth and began pouring his feelings," Njeru writes.

And the other children asked Samite to return.

What’s the Buzz? Sound Therapy

The New York Times

By STEPHANIE ROSENBLOOM

CAROL HARADA lay on her back, eyes closed, on cushions strewn across the floor of a studio in Emeryville, Calif. Several people, some clutching musical instruments, quietly gathered around. It was her turn to receive a group healing.

One person held her feet. Another touched her head. Someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Ms. Harada, 40, then stated that her intention was to release the dull pain in her left shoulder.

"The physical touch was important, to remind me I was safe and directly connected to people doing healing work on my behalf," she wrote in an e-mail describing her experience last spring.

Then, using their voices and acoustic instruments - bowls made from crystals, an Australian didgeridoo, bells and drums - the participants gently bathed Ms. Harada in sound.

When the sonic massage ended several minutes later, Ms. Harada’s eyes fluttered open. She felt grateful, peaceful and when she stood up, found that the range of motion in her shoulder had increased.

For decades people have relaxed and meditated to soothing sounds, including recordings of waves lapping, desktop waterfalls and wind chimes. Lately a new kind of sound therapy, often called sound healing, has begun to attract a following. Also known as vibrational medicine, the practice employs the vibrations of the human voice as well as objects that resonate - tuning forks, gongs, Tibetan singing bowls - to go beyond relaxation and stimulate healing. "It’s like meditation was 20 years ago and yoga was 10 to 15 years ago," said Amrita Cottrell, the founder and director of the Healing Music Organization in Santa Cruz, Calif., and the leader of the class that Ms. Harada attended.

While many people are only just discovering it, sound healing is actually a return to ancient cultural practices that used chants and singing bowls to restore health and relieve pain. It is often introduced at mind-body or wellness festivals. Thousands of healers from almost every state and many countries have created Web sites about sound healing.

Schools for certification have sprung up too, though certification is hardly standardized. The healers include medical doctors, academics and people with no medical or scientific background at all. What they have in common is a belief in the potency of sound to not only promote relaxation, but relieve ailments, from common aches and pains to the anxiety that accompanies chemotherapy.

People who have tried sound healing say they like it because it is noninvasive and relaxing. And lying on a cushion, exercising only the ears, is decidedly easier than stretching into the downward dog pose.

But can chanting "om lam hu" or blowing into a didgeridoo really loosen a stiff neck?

No controlled clinical trials have been done to show that sound healing works, said Dr. Vijay B. Vad, a sports medicine specialist at the Hospital for Special Surgery in Manhattan and a doctor for the P.G.A. Tour. But those who try sound healing may feel their pain diminish, because pain is notoriously subjective, Dr. Vad said. Some 35 percent of people with back pain find relief from a placebo, he noted.

Sound healing, like other mind-body treatments, he said, could act as a placebo, or it may distract the mind, breaking a stress cycle. "Even if it breaks your cycle for 15 minutes, that’s sometimes enough to have a therapeutic effect," Dr. Vad said.

Sylvia Pelcz-Larsen of Boulder, Colo., an acupuncturist who was suffering from excruciating back pain, tried a form of sound healing called Acutonics, which involves applying tuning forks to acupressure points on the body.

"I got a 10-minute session, and my back was about 80 percent better," she said. "It changed my life." Ms. Pelcz-Larsen now teaches classes through the Kairos Institute of Sound Healing, which is based in New Mexico but offers classes throughout the world, and has incorporated tuning forks into her acupuncture practice, along with Tibetan singing bowls, planetary gongs and chimes.

Using forks and bowls for anything other than dinner may seem to some people like New Age nonsense. But healers, sometimes called sounders, argue that sound can have physiological effects because its vibrations are not merely heard but also felt. And vibrations, they say, can lower heart rate variability, relax brain wave patterns and reduce respiratory rates.

When the heart rate is relatively steady, and breathing is deep and slow, stress hormones decrease, said Dr. Mitchell L. Gaynor, an oncologist and clinical assistant professor of medicine at Weill Medical College of Cornell University in New York and the author of "The Healing Power of Sound." That is significant, he said, because stress can depress every aspect of the immune system, "including those that protect us against flu and against cancer."

Ms. Cottrell pointed out that ultrasound, which employs vibrations in frequencies above the range of human hearing, has been used therapeutically. "When the body is sick - it could be a cold, a broken bone, an ulcer, a tumor, or an emotional or mental illness - it’s all a matter of the frequencies of the body being out of tune, off balance, out of synch," she said. "Vibration can help bring that back into balance."

Sound healing works like the cry you make when you stub your toe, said Jonathan Goldman, the director of the Sound Healers Association in Boulder, and the author of "Healing Sounds: The Power of Harmonics." "Have you ever been able to stub your toe and not make a sound?" he asked. "It hurts a lot more."

The cry, he suggested, may stimulate endorphins or create resonance with the part of the body that is in pain and lessen it. Or, he said, the cry you emit may simply distract you from the pain.

Dr. Gaynor distinguishes between curing and healing. To "cure" means physically to fix something, whereas "healing" refers to wholeness, a union of the mind, body and spirit, he said. Dr. Gaynor, who has an oncology practice in Manhattan, considers sound healing integrative medicine: not an alternative to science but a complement to it.

He leads free biweekly support groups for his patients that involve chanting and playing Tibetan singing bowls. The bowls are made of several kinds of metal; when struck gently on the rim with a wood baton, they vibrate at different frequencies, making sounds not unlike church bells.

When Marisa Harris of Manhattan first saw Dr. Gaynor with one of his Tibetan bowls she thought he was going to prepare pasta. But when he began to play them, she said, it was the first time since she had been diagnosed with Stage 4 pancreatic cancer that she could hear something other than the words "you’re going to die."

"It was as if all of a sudden there was room for possibility," she said. The sound, Ms. Harris said, penetrated her body and made her feel as if it were not only her thoughts about death that were breaking up, "but these poisonous cells, these cancer cells, were breaking up and I experienced something very healing."

More than seven years later she plays her own singing bowls every day, often chanting the names of her three children, her husband and other loved ones. The bowls, she said, helped her express feelings she had bottled up inside. Sometimes, she said, she talks to the bowls about her fears. "The sound would take them away," she said, "out of my being, out of my existence."

Mr. Goldman draws an analogy between sound healing and prayer. Many cultures, he said, believe that vocalizing a prayer amplifies it. By the same token, he said, expressing what you want a sound to accomplish (Ms. Harada’s wish to release the pain in her left shoulder, for example), can help you heal yourself - or someone else.

Dr. Gaynor likens sound healing to music therapy. In "The Healing Power of Sound" he cites studies indicating that music can lower blood pressure, reduce cardiac complications among patients who have recently suffered heart attacks, reduce stress hormones during medical testing and boost natural opiates.

But not everyone who partakes in sound healing is in need of medical treatment. Ms. Harada’s husband, Greg Bergere, attended the sound healing classes in Emeryville even though he had no physical ailments. They left him feeling refreshed. "It felt like I just had a really relaxing night’s sleep," he said. For some people, that alone may be worth the price of a singing bowl.

 

Copyright 2005 The New York Times Company