by Nasir Serrikashkawij
“Patara bichi damekraga” is the first line of a Georgian folk song. It means: “A little boy got lost.” When Maia sings it, her voice carries both longing and clarity. It is a song about searching. For someone, for something — a child, a place, perhaps even for oneself. It begins in Georgia, but when it echoes off the wooden walls of a rehearsal room in Tübingen, it becomes a song about all of us.
For many of the musicians in the room, a new chapter of life begins in Tübingen. Yet on a Friday evening at a TüFolk rehearsal, it feels like you could be anywhere. Or everywhere. People arrive with instruments slung over their shoulders: oud, violin, accordion, drum, ukulele. Greetings drift in German, English, Spanish, Italian, Kurdish, Arabic, and more. There is no official start. The music gathers itself and begins to flow.
A circle without borders
TüFolk is an open music group focused on folk traditions from around the world. It is not a professional ensemble but a growing circle, led by Cristobal and Maia. Cristobal comes from Valparaíso, a coastal region in Chile, and has been living in Germany for ten years, working as a musician. Maia, originally from Georgia, moved to Berlin as a student and remains deeply rooted in the musical traditions of her homeland.
The doors are open to everyone. No auditions. No expectations. Just a shared curiosity to make music from different parts of the world together. “Music is a great way to understand people better,” says Cristobal. “In the end, it is a language that helps us grasp things we cannot easily put into words.”
“As a foreigner, being welcomed into a new country really moves me,” Maia says. “When you bring something from your culture and suddenly everyone is singing or playing it with you, something personal is being shared. That is powerful. That is precious.”
The group rehearses weekly and builds a repertoire across cultures, often with the help of guest mentors. These mentors bring songs and styles from their own backgrounds. They have also learned a method of teaching by ear without sheet music to make the music accessible to all.
“We want people to teach songs from their own cultures,” Maia says. “I would not teach anything that does not come from my region.” And then she adds, “Because it makes a difference. It is about answering questions and transforming things.”
A home between the notes
This approach does not just educate. It touches people. For Cecilia, a physicist from southern Italy who joined the group after a concert in December, TüFolk brought something unexpected: a sense of home.
“When I came to Tübingen, I did not know anyone. I tried to meet people, but it was hard. TüFolk changed that. It is not just international. It is local, too. That mix is something special.”
That feeling of rootedness comes up often. For Remon, a 29-year-old from Upper Egypt now studying neuroscience, TüFolk was a turning point. “I had never played in front of others before,” he says. “But we kept telling each other, we make mistakes and that is okay. That freed us to enjoy it.” Remon plays the oud, a choice that was not easy back home. “Carrying an instrument was a stigma. But at some point, I thought, I will not hide anymore.”
At TüFolk, a community emerges. One that brings closeness and sometimes healing. As Cecilia puts it, “It is a place where you can feel like you belong, even if you are only here for a little while.”
Between rehearsals and reality
Still, keeping it all going is not easy. Funding remains a challenge. “If we had more resources, we could pay mentors,” Cristobal says. “A permanent rehearsal space would help, too. And we would love to invite guests from elsewhere, people with unique musical traditions.”
They also dream of building an archive. “We have recorded at least two concerts,” Cristobal says, “but to make them public, we need a sound technician to edit them properly.”
Despite everything, rehearsals are marked not by scarcity but by joy. The atmosphere feels improvised, vibrant, at times deeply moving. There is no conductor. Leadership shifts from song to song. Everyone teaches, everyone learns.
Memory, movement, and songs that travel
This interplay between memory and music is at the heart of TüFolk. It is not just about performing. It is about sharing something lived. Folk songs are rarely just melodies. They carry stories and identity. And when they are sung in a circle of people just getting to know one another, something begins to shift.
At a performance on March 28 at a local culture center, Cecilia introduced a song without naming it. Why? “What I love about folk songs,” she said, “is that they change. There is no fixed ownership. The same melody can mean something new depending on the context.” The song was Bella Ciao. She explained how it had transformed from a lullaby to an anti-fascist anthem. It is the same with TüFolk. Songs travel through time and come to life in new places.
If you want to join, there is only one thing to do. “Just come by and introduce yourself,” Maia says. The group rehearses every Friday at the Fichtehaus, Herrenbergerstraße 40 in Tübingen, and is currently preparing for a summer concert on July 11 at the Tübingen Stadtfest.
Perhaps, on that day, the Georgian song will be heard again. The one that begins with “Patara bichi damekraga …” A little boy got lost. But here at TüFolk, someone is calling his name.
TüFolk online and contact:
TüFolk – Klangfolk e.V. Tübingen
tun25042206