Unless you've successfully avoided and/or ignored me for the past several months, you know that I recently spent some time studying music on the island of Guadeloupe. Those of you who know this might wonder if I'll ever shut up about it. One day, perhaps. But today is not that day.

Even though I've had a decent career playing ethnic percussion, I had never traveled to a foreign country and done a total immersion music study. Why? Glad you asked.

Reason 1 - Because I've focused on playing ethnic instruments in contemporary popular styles. Let's face it - 90% of us percussionists will make a hell of a lot more money playing pop, R&B, and jazz than by playing ______ (insert foreign folkloric style here). The remaining 10% have my undying respect.

Reason 2 - There are masters of music from all over the world here in New York City, so cats who live here can find local teachers of just about anything.

When the opportunity to travel and study music was to present itself, I always thought I'd go to Brazil. I love the music of Brazil madly, and have had some success playing it. But at a rehearsal with Andy Narrel, drummer Gregory Louis introduced me to GWOKA. And it was aaaalllll over! Along with my new love for gwoka music, I reasoned that there is a glut of master Brazilian percussionists in New York and elsewhere. Guadeloupe would be the road less-traveled, and hopefully add to my uniqueness as a player.

The point of a trip like this was not to learn rhythms and specific parts. A book can teach you that. The point was to absorb that ìfeelî (whatever that means). Oh, you know - to let that unquantifiable bend in the beat subdivisions become a part of my natural playing - the groove.

I was in Guadeloupe for two weeks - not nearly enough time for the local groove to become second nature for me. Think of it like a speech accent: if you're an American and you spend two weeks in London, will you come home speaking in an English accent without thinking about it? No. But if you spent your time there studying and practicing every nuance of the locals' speech, you'll be able to cop that accent spot-on -- with some effort, yes, but it will be there for you.

I immersed myself in gwoka grooves (there isn't just one) for those two magical weeks. I played constantly with the locals in Guad, and I practice the stuff religiously here at home.

So, is it in me? I mean, really? When I'm playing and I remember the Caribbean air, the lizards chasing each other on the patio, the beautiful view I saw as my teacher schooled me on his front porch, the spices sold at the outdoor markets, ... YES, the groove is in those things, and they are in me.