ABSTRACT
One of the things that struck me when I* first started working as a music therapist at a school in Heideveld was the seemingly never ceasing sound. Children call out to one another, voicing their opinions freely and strongly; there are sounds of laughter, teachers shouting (rather loudly), balls bouncing along the corridors. Community members residing in small tenement buildings or houses neighboring the school add to the sounds as they greet one another (loudly), or perhaps engage in a heated argument outside a local shebeen.† Cars and donkey carts pass by on the roads surrounding the school. The sounds of domestic life, of a vibrant, energetic community, are amplified by the close proximity of living quarters and the large number of unemployed people spending their days on the streets that wind through the community. The community sounds are continually permeated with music. Children seem to come out of the womb already drumming or “kap-ping the drums” as they call it. Music abounds in school corridors, on desks in the classroom, with boys, for the most part, using pencils, sticks, or just 192their hands to beat out Kaapse Klopse* rhythms with which everybody is familiar. Adding to this spontaneous music-making, the latest 50 Cent or Black Eyed Peas tracks can often be heard blasting out from cars and taxis. As they pass the school, groups of children eagerly join in with the music, reciting all the words and sometimes adding their own break dances as well.
