The “Eszperente” Ukulele

I felt like writing down a little piece and sharing it with you. Keep this in mind: with this musical contraption you can pluck pleasant sounds and surprise people with something made with love. (The Hungarian original is written in “eszperente”, a word game in which only the vowel e is used.) You can play jazz, you can jam — it makes no difference; there need not be a single unhappy person around.I keep saying it: you have to play a great deal. Then these sounds will settle into both your mind and your hands, and none of them will remain an enemy.

Evening falls and I bring these playfully plucked minutes to an end. My hands are buzzing, my palms are trembling, my backside has gone numb and my body has been sitting obediently in one place all this time. I must not forget: in the morning I need to practise again, properly and enthusiastically, so that the sounds come back to life. Morning arrives and I begin: I pick up my favourite musical contraption, which has been lying on the sofa, and start planning. Shall I play? Shall I begin? Perhaps I should eat first, because then I will play the sounds properly. I eat strawberries, but strawberry juice drips onto the instrument and its top becomes horribly sticky. I wipe off the juice, save the situation and quickly eat my lebbencs soup. Was that really my breakfast? There was nothing else to do; apparently that was what my stomach needed, not a steak.

I begin with a sound my soul would rather chase away: E-flat /Eb/. I struggle with it, keep repositioning my hand, and everything trembles, so I start again forty times. My mind offers no comfort: you will have to suffer with this chord, and forty times will not be enough — begin seventy times and you will improve. I search for sounds higher and lower on this musical contraption. What I find is a bottomless forest of possibilities, far too many to put into my head. But I am enthusiastic! I challenge my hand with friendlier and more difficult sounds alike, and it gradually becomes more experienced rather than more lost. I do thisregularly. My hand becomes faster and more lively. I play some shapes a thousand times. I am no longer afraid: I start tackling steeper, more dangerous chord structures as well.

Weeks pass, and everything becomes more enjoyable. I can even boast a little: I can name a great many sounds and place my hand where it needs to go. I no longer object to the difficult ones either; I move my hand with discipline and play. My musical contraption vibrates softly, and through it I send a little love to other people.

I love it, and I play a lot. My favourite part is seeing people notice the instrument in my hands, become curious, and start wanting to try it themselves.