Of gracefully fleet feet

Customs can be beautiful things, and dance surely is one delightful custom that every culture has.

Certain dances are physical expressions of ancient or modern legends -- legends about conflict, survival, love. And because I'm such a terrible dancer, watching people do it so well is such a pleasure. Especially when the dance tells a story.

Ladies and gentlemen, behold the singkil, one of the numerous, utterly lovely folk dances of the Philippines. I get major goosebumps whenever I watch it.

"Perhaps one of the oldest of truly Filipino dances, the Singkil recounts the epic legend of the "Darangan" of the Maranao people of Mindanao. This epic, written sometime in the 14th century, tells the fateful story of Princess Gandingan, who was caught in the middle of a forest during an earthquake caused by the diwatas, or fairies or nymph of the forest.

The rhythmic clapping of criss-crossed bamboo poles represent the trees that were falling, which she gracefully avoids. Her slave loyally accompanies her throughout her ordeal. Finally, she is saved by the prince. Dancers wearing solemn faces and maintaining a dignified pose being dancing at a slow pace which soon progresses to a faster tempo skillfully manipulate apir, or fans which represent the winds that prove to be auspicious. The dancers weave expertly through criss-crossed bamboos.

When performed by ladies of the royalty of Lanao, the dancer is usually accompanied by a waiting lady, who holds a beautifully decorated umbrella over the Princess' head wherever she goes. Royal princesses to this day in the Sulu Archipelago are required to learn this most difficult and noble dance."
-from likha.org

The grace and dignity -- and sensuality -- that the principal dancers exude are remarkable indeed. I have yet to see a live performance of this dance. It's pathetic; I have access to my own country's wonderful culture but I haven't experienced much of it.

Not that I'd dance the singkil. It requires upper- and lower-body coordination, and when it comes to dancing, my body is a sorry tale of two cities, cities that might as well be located in opposite parts of the world. It's an unholy mésalliance; they not only speaking different languages, but take perverse pleasure in the fact that they never will. Except maybe when it comes to sex.