Spirit Man: Said Bourhana

I first met Said Bourhana at a club, listening to The Brooklyn Gypsies, in 2015.

The band was jaw-droppingly sensual. My friends and I joined Said and his friends as passionate groupies. We all danced deep into the night to the lyrical sax of Troy “Mobius” Simms and the aching oud-playing of Zeb “the Spy from Cairo”. We were inspired by the siren-like song of Carmen Estevez singing in…we finally figured it was Spanish, but the words didn’t matter so much as the way she sang them from heaven, the way she swayed her hips and slithered her hands up to the sky to the drum beats of Brandon “B Riddimz” Lewis.

We danced, and danced, many nights at Nublu and in Max Cellar, a briefly-existent Bushwick club.

“You should come listen to us play,” Said said. He was in a band himself, Innov Gnawa.

I remember being somewhat surprised at the bright robes and slippers they donned, at the castanet-like qraqebs they clicked together in a rhythm that tugged at me in a way I could not quite describe. I remember hearing his friend, Hassan, the man we’d known only for his dance moves, play that beautiful wooden instrument I only recently learned was the ancient sintir. He is the Maalam Hassan BenJafaar. How had we not known these spirit drivers, whose rhythms touched our souls?

It was Said’s friend and band member Ahmed Jeriouda who first told me they were from Morocco. My heart had soared.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Morocco!” I said.

It’s hard to say why a place in the world pulls us so, why my first taste of Moroccan food many years ago in Chicago--a phyllo wrapped sweet and savory chicken pie translated as “pastilla”—seemed to send me straight to heaven. The same can be said for people. It’s hard to say exactly why someone like Said can clap his hands together high above his head, firmly and surely, and make people feel strong and safe, even when the music pulls them into a deep surprising trance. It’s hard to say why someone like Said can move deftly through a crowd, holding out his hands and swaying his hips, and inspire people to move and sway themselves.

“We don’t know how to be human,” Said said to me months back, when I’d posed a question to him about why people act like they do.

In the last year, Said has become my own Mkadim or Spirit Leader, the same way he is for Innov Gnawa, a band of beautiful Moroccan men that has soared to amazing heights in the world, playing with DJ and Electronic musician Bonobo on his Migration tour to audiences from Coachella to Colorado’s Red Rocks. His energy provides a solid foundation from which to try, as much as possible, to be a decent human. It is a spirit much-needed in the world.

Said brought his friends and bandmates – Hassan, Ahmed and Samir Langus – to play for my friend Abena Strafford’s birthday. It was a magical night at the home of Kathleen Hennessy’s. It was a private continuation of our amazing nights at Nublu.

Since then, I have attended nearly every show the band plays, from small intimate nights at Park Slope’s international music mecca, Barbes, to Terminal 5. Last month, I finally traveled to Morocco, and upon my return Said put his immense cooking talents to work to cook in my home for a small group of neighbors and friends. He made the parsley and cilantro-based chermoula for the striped bass he’d caught the day before. He showed me how to cook and peel the fresh eggplant for the Zaalouk. Seeing him pass the incense around and sit among his bandmates on my living room rug, chanting the gnawa songs of ancient sub-Saharan Africa.

We shopped around his local Queens markets for the fresh ingredients he needed. We bought fresh plump Sunsweet apricots and shrimp and lamb from Costco. I was reminded as I traveled through New York with him in his square grey Element how Said came to this country when he was 18, how he worked in a restaurant as a busboy and slept there at night before he could get on his feet, how he has learned to do every manner of construction himself over the decades since, how he catches his own fish, and picks up bags and bags of leftover bread from a friend’s bakery to deliver to people in need.

Said is generous of spirit, and it is that spirit that carries through his hands…whether they hit the drum in perfect rhythm, or bring the qraqebs together, or come together solidly above his head. I am excited to see how Said, and Innov Gnawa, continue to bring their soulful culture to the world.

Thank you Said, for the inspiration!

To ‘trance and dance,’ look for where to find Said and Innov Gnawa at innovgnawa.com.

Shalom. Inshallah. Peace be with You.