PerroZomPopo (Street Smart)

Yesterday we heard some music playing at about 9 p.m. and remembered that PerroZomPopo, a very popular Nicaraguan band, was playing near the town center. Sophia was sleeping and Astrid was finishing Giaconda Belli’s book about Nicaragua ("Country Under My Skin"), so I walked the six blocks to the concert by myself.

The street between the Convent San Francisco and one of the hotels had been closed to set up a large stage and sound system. Concert-goers paid $5.00 and entered from a side street. I entered the blocked off area from behind the stage, then walked on the raised sidewalk to the side of the stage until I could see the performers. This was an area opposite the convent where the view to the concert was supposed to be blocked off by sheets, but la gente had torn them down. Though free, it was the best seat in the house, with a great view of the stage and of the facade of the convent across the street.

The band was incredible. I didn’t know anything about them, but they were all great musicians. The band was formed by Ramon Mejia, who sings and played guitar on a few songs. He has a buzz cut, but was wearing a hat. "Perrozompopo" is a colloquialism for "street smart" and a nickname for a species of gecko native to Nicaragua. Mejia chose the name as a way to identify with his country and his people.

Their music was basically rock, with traces of reggae sometimes, and rap at other times. There were large movie screens on either side of the stage that projected videos, primarily of the streets of Nicaragua or, during the finale, of the musicians themselves. Mejia and the bass player were in front of the stage; further back were two more guitarists, a violinist, a drummer and a pianist. Near the end they all gave quite amazing solos.

Besides the music, it was fun to watch the light show on the convent. There were projections of white light (lasers?) on the four columns and the cornice, and different colors on the rectangles between the columns. Sometimes the lights on the columns would expand out and contract, like it was breathing. Sometimes there were circles of light around the circular windows that would expand out then shrink bank. It wasn’t from secondhand (or firsthand) smoke, I swear. At other times there was an image of a bishop chasing a sheep across the top of the cornice. The light show was pretty sophisticated; much more than I expected.

I tried to figure out the economics of the thing. There were probably less than a thousand paying customers, seven band members, a crew to build up and tear down, several large trucks for transportation, lighting and sound team, and hotel rooms to be paid. If they sell pirated CD’s in the marketplace for the same prices as the movies ($1.00 apiece), they can’t get much from sales within Nicaragua. Of course, there are at least four levels of prices: poor Nicas, rich Nicas, tourists and ex-pats, and the crew members probably get paid less than $2.00 an hour. So maybe it all works out.