Rogi is deeply fascinated by the story behind the karko (conch shell), and because of that, he feels a strong connection to tell a story through this element. Although he hasn’t yet managed to fully do this, it remains his dream—because the history of the karko is something truly beautiful.

Rogi has heard many stories and has done a lot of research to understand how people used to communicate, and for him, it’s incredibly interesting. He has listened to his elders describe how the karko was used especially during moments of loss. There used to be a small community in Slagbaai, there was Playa Grandi, Rincon, and
other areas—so when someone passed away or something happened, the message would be sent via karko.

That’s how news would travel from village to village. There was a specific blow of the karko for each type of message. If someone had died, there was even a special blow for that. One of the most important traditions was simadan, which Rogi and his team are currently working on turning into a theater production. The play will not focus solely on the karko, but rather on simadan—how it started, why it was celebrated, the music, the dance, and more. And the karko was a big part of simadan as well. People would go out to cut corn, and
after harvesting, they would walk back to the village. The men would always carry instruments, and in most cases, two or three people would be playing the karko.

Today, it’s rare to find someone who still knows how to play it. Karko players have become very limited. According to Rogi’s research, the karko was once played like a brass instrument. Just like there are trumpet groups, there were karko groups. Each person would play a different tone—one higher, one lower—and together, they created harmonies that could be heard approaching from a distance.

When Rogi learned this, it sparked an emotion he had never felt before. He felt the urge to recreate those feelings, and to make something visual and lasting out of it. He wants to document how it used to be, how the karko sounded in those moments, and how that rhythm gave life. This is why Rogi considers the karko such an important part of his culture and history—and why he’s so deeply fascinated by this element.