April 29, 2009
Dancing is a Passport
I have had several passports in my life but I think dancing is one of the most interesting. In Togo recently to visit a friend’s family in a small place called Dadza. It was sweet to meet the family again after a two-year absence and experience true African hospitality. I can say without lying that when economically feasible, an African family will welcome you into their home as their own son or daughter and provide for every need that you have and you will be given the best seat in the house for the duration of your stay. Lucky I was and have been to be at the receiving end. On one day, a large funeral had been taking place for not one but close to ten people (this was done mainly to cut costs, not because many people died at once). As such, the number of music groups performing was also multiplied such that at one part of this village was a group from such and such a town, opposite to them was another group from another village and so on. Sometimes playing at the same time, sometimes staggering over the course of the afternoon. Approaching the playing ground for traditional performances is always exciting, no matter where or for what reason. I experience this everywhere there is music and dance happening outside. First you hear the music, slightly muted and not quite discernible but you can catch bits and pieces of the instruments….luring you in. Then there is the crowd which forms around the music/musicians/dancers. As you get closer to that mass, the music becomes louder and clearer. The drums more powerful, the singing more entrancing. As an outsider, you are a little nervous, not sure of the protocol of what you are entering. Eyes upon you, you find a place to sit or stand and then you are in it. The drums are made for this environment and each beat fills your ears and shakes some part of you. Putting that with the singing and the dance and you have magic.
Now….after settling in you just wanna chill and enjoy the experience, be somewhat anonymous. I want to take some video or pictures of these new sounds and dances but am never sure how people will react. Some appreciate, some get annoyed at times. But on this occasion I was asked if I wanted to film the proceedings. Of course I agreed, but first was asked if I wanted to dance. Not one to turn down a dance in this environment I obliged. Now I feel a bit bad because I know I am going to shock the people, but they don’t know that. The dance style is very similar to that of the Ewe people in Ghana that I spend time with and I can do it quite well. I know this, but the people do not. They are perhaps expecting to see the foreigner dance like most do at first, a little off-beat, smiling, trying and looking a little awkward. So when I stood up with my friend and did my thing, people shouted, people clapped and cloth was thrown around my neck (a sign of both appreciation and in some places wanting to marry a person). My turn over, another person came to take me right away. And another and another until I had to put a stop to it as I felt like my back would break. That done, I felt free and had “entered”. This process repeated itself several times over the day at each different playing ground. So indeed, dancing can be a passport.
Dancing is a Passport
I have had several passports in my life but I think dancing is one of the most interesting. In Togo recently to visit a friend’s family in a small place called Dadza. It was sweet to meet the family again after a two-year absence and experience true African hospitality. I can say without lying that when economically feasible, an African family will welcome you into their home as their own son or daughter and provide for every need that you have and you will be given the best seat in the house for the duration of your stay. Lucky I was and have been to be at the receiving end. On one day, a large funeral had been taking place for not one but close to ten people (this was done mainly to cut costs, not because many people died at once). As such, the number of music groups performing was also multiplied such that at one part of this village was a group from such and such a town, opposite to them was another group from another village and so on. Sometimes playing at the same time, sometimes staggering over the course of the afternoon. Approaching the playing ground for traditional performances is always exciting, no matter where or for what reason. I experience this everywhere there is music and dance happening outside. First you hear the music, slightly muted and not quite discernible but you can catch bits and pieces of the instruments….luring you in. Then there is the crowd which forms around the music/musicians/dancers. As you get closer to that mass, the music becomes louder and clearer. The drums more powerful, the singing more entrancing. As an outsider, you are a little nervous, not sure of the protocol of what you are entering. Eyes upon you, you find a place to sit or stand and then you are in it. The drums are made for this environment and each beat fills your ears and shakes some part of you. Putting that with the singing and the dance and you have magic.
Now….after settling in you just wanna chill and enjoy the experience, be somewhat anonymous. I want to take some video or pictures of these new sounds and dances but am never sure how people will react. Some appreciate, some get annoyed at times. But on this occasion I was asked if I wanted to film the proceedings. Of course I agreed, but first was asked if I wanted to dance. Not one to turn down a dance in this environment I obliged. Now I feel a bit bad because I know I am going to shock the people, but they don’t know that. The dance style is very similar to that of the Ewe people in Ghana that I spend time with and I can do it quite well. I know this, but the people do not. They are perhaps expecting to see the foreigner dance like most do at first, a little off-beat, smiling, trying and looking a little awkward. So when I stood up with my friend and did my thing, people shouted, people clapped and cloth was thrown around my neck (a sign of both appreciation and in some places wanting to marry a person). My turn over, another person came to take me right away. And another and another until I had to put a stop to it as I felt like my back would break. That done, I felt free and had “entered”. This process repeated itself several times over the day at each different playing ground. So indeed, dancing can be a passport.