As I was showering this morning, I heard through the open bathroom door that my beloved had put some music on. Her favorite compact disk the last few weeks has been a collection of contemporary music from Mali. She puts it on almost every day. As I was washing my hair, I suddenly heard Spanish strains in the familiar African music. And I immediately thought of connections between Mali and Spain that I had somehow missed so far. The two countries are not that far apart, anyhow. Arabs must have provided the cultural bridge across the centuries. Having finished washing my hair, I realized that the music was indeed Spanish. Manitas de Plata, no less. My beloved had unexpectedly switched compact disks. When I told her about my conundrum, she laughed: “My theoretician!” Indeed, I am nothing if not theory happy.