I’m not very good at writing things in order, because I don’t really remember things in order–but I have to tell you about our dance class experience.
One of the girls, McKenna, is studying dance for her project. The translators helped her to meet this renowned dance teacher who wants to teach McKenna… so she was going to go try it out, and I guess the first time she saw her she said she was really “intense” so she asked if me and Alexis wanted to come along.
I was like, what the heck, why not? I’m in India, aren’t I?
So we get in a rickshaw (moto-taxi) and go. When we get there, the door is locked and it appears that no one is there. McKenna gives her a call, and she says she will come…
We wait…
And 5 or 10 minutes later the lady walks down the stairs–and she’s got the aura of Medusa I’m pretty sure, because you have to be brave to look that woman in the eye… or even speak when she’s around…
“All right, let’s start,” she says to McKenna when we get in the classroom. “These are your friends?” she says, with a disdainful look back at me, Sailijah, and Alexis.
“Yeah, they wanted to come just for support,” McKenna says, and she kind of makes a face at us when the teacher turns her back to us, because Alexis whispers, “You want me to come dance with you?”
McKenna makes another face, like, ‘I don’t know if she’ll eat your face off if you get up here, or if that’s totally cool, or what…’ So Alexis gets up and mimicks the strained position that the dance teacher has formed McKenna into.
“Oh, you want to try to?” she is surprised to find a new victim.
“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Alexis says.
“Good,” she says, and forms Alexis too. I want to get up and join them, but I’m afraid to look the fool–they’re both dancers and I’m not sure if dance teacher guru is okay with us coming with McKenna or not…
She teaches them a before-you-dance ritual which is an unspoken way of apologizing to the earth for stomping on it, but letting her know that it’s okay because you’re dancing, not trying to beat her up. It consists of a precise posture, a precise squat, touching the floor then your eyes, floor, then your eyes and some other things I can’t remember.
They go back into position and are taught to stomp. Lift your knee, point your toe, stomp with all your foot! Lift your knee, point your toe, stomp!
“Louder! I have to hear the noise!” scolds dance teacher.
They keep stomping, and when her back is turned one turns to the other, “Do your feet hurt?”
“All right, take a break, walk around the room…”
We still feel like we can’t talk in this woman’s auspicious presence. I’m anxious to join, so when they finish their room circles, I get up and in line.
“Can I try to?”
“Okay, okay,” she says, and makes me apologize to earth before she will continue with the lesson. I apologize… dancing is probably one of the nicer things I’ve done to the poor earth so I think she’ll forgive me…
She tries to form me like a duck as she did to the others, but this barbie doll is the kind you buy from the dollar store, not Toys-R-Us.
“Elbows up!” she scolds. “Farther away from your body! Not like that! Like this! Now, stomp! One and two, three and four! No! Don’t move your body! Your knees! Look. Like this.”
I try my best to follow–I decide not to look in the mirror because that might be embarrassing to see myself compared to the real dancers. Dance teacher guru has a good target with me there though.
“You can smile!” she says.
This makes me laugh. I’m not upset. I’m not offended or intimidated by her or discouraged by my poor performance. I actually am quite amused by my inadequacy, as normal (it is rather amusing, you know). I don’t know why, but I enjoy this stern, old-style Indian teacher. I am impressed by the photos of her as a youth in the traditional dancing clothes with the perfect hands and feet positions that she is trying to teach my inflexible hands to make.
Little girls in white salwar kameez costumes start to pile in as we are going overtime into their lesson. They look at us curiously, but are greatly disciplined into a reverent silence that feels unnatural for such young children.
Dance Teacher Guru is not bothered by the interruptions that present themselves during the class (her son, and a dance student’s mother) but lets us wait while she talks with them. We take an awkward leave as it is obvious the other class needs to start.
I quite enjoyed the experience. It’s funny to think a few years ago I might have been put to tears by the simple scolds of the teacher, and now they only make me laugh. I honestly enjoyed the lesson very much and look forward to more–though we are going to have a different teacher because Dance Teacher Guru is SPENSIVE and far far away (you know, ten minutes in the rikshaw which is like, 60 rupees each way, it adds up…)