Another Pennsic Memory

[bethlakshmi]

We met at the corner by the Beast and Boar. Padme and Eleanor were ready, but finishing dinner. Clara we had left back at camp awaiting her air mattress. I added some flowers to Eleanor and we were ready. They were full of stories about how Bharata Natyam had infected Shark Pit and Haus Von Drackenklowe. I was a mix of thrilled they had practiced, afraid that their camps were annoyed, and amused at the "white people interpretation" of Indian dance. Mostly, amazed that this one small dance has touched so many people, so many different ways.

We began with a meander to the Little India encampment. A gang of SCA_Indians (enthusiasts for medieval Indian culture, centered on a Yahoo Group) had formed an encampment. They had set up a large golden Ohm, and windwalls with elephants, making them easy to find. We wandered in and introductions were made all around. It was a mix of old friends and new ones. The camp was filled with beautfuls things, delicate music in the background, and incredibly yummy food. Most sat on cushions, as is typical of Indians. It was lovely. Low-key, and yet elegant with none of the hyped energy and stress that I usually feel at our all-out In Persona Dinners. Perhaps that was because I was in no way responsible for this. I was simply an honored guest. Sometimes, that's no so bad... I prayed my dancing ladies weren't getting bored, but this might be my only chance to see the Indians for a long span of time, and it wasn't dark yet.

When dark had sunk fully, I realized it was beyond time for us to make our way to O'Choda, who had invited us up for an evening of stories, songs, and music. Their intent was to NOT have a big dance party, but instead celebrate the other arts of the Arabian lands and beyond.

We snuck in, being welcomed by safirasilv's sweetie. Well... we snuck as much as three women wearing ankle bells can sneak. I checked in with our lovely hostesses and got us on the roster. We stretched, I could feel their nerves. God bless these ladies for following me. To feel them trust me, put their faith in my judgement that they would do well, and be well recieved. That is truly and awe-inspiring gift. We mediatated, holding hands and calming down.

As we were reordering the audience, so we would have a safe space to dance on the side of camp, our missing Clara came running in. She'd gone looking for us, and we'd missed each other in the night. Somehow, through pure serendipity, she'd found us, and she scooted in at the last minute. The other two ladies adjusted like pros, as though this were planned from the start, they reblocked into a three person formation and we started.

The peice is a challenge. As you move from standing (samamundi), to knees bent (aramundi), to sitting on your heels (puramundi), you get ever more tired. The aramundi dancing is rigorous - both in having a sometimes fast tempo, and in the sheer volume of moving and stomping. By midway through, the body is tired and ready for a break, but this dance provides only three steps to stretch and reconnoiter before launching you into puramundi. The puramundi section offers just enough time with stillness in the lower body for your tired muscles to lock into exhausted stones, before demanding an increasing regiment of hopping, and then leaping into lunges. You must relax, you must breathe, and get oxygen into your tired muscles, or it just won't come off right.

Would they do it? Would it work? Especially with three people, once the dance is set is motion, there's no time to revamp it and make it more sane. This is the first time any of these three ladies has performed at Pennsic. AND the first time they have performed Indian dance. Was that too many firsts? Have I let them down?

Best not to think about it. Just give them a firm, loud, steady beat to cling to.

But... it comes, the leaping that you just have to *do*, and they do it. To one who has watched them for 10 weeks, their tiredness shows. But to a fresh, new audience -- they nailed it. They are mostly on the beat and no one wavers or falls. They rise, every bit as triumphant as they should be, and they finish the still-challenging finale, closing it out.

The audience is dead silent. We start the final prayer sequence, a trick I have used before to clue in the audience that it's really over. We finish by thanking the earth and bowing to the teacher, and the audience erupts in simply thunderous applause. The ladies bow, and exit gracefully.

I stand, dizzily. Suddenly I'm "high" on the joy my students have brought to this group. It is truly their triumph. I just taught them. But am overwhelmed with joy. A joy quite different, possibly even larger than the joy of a dance well-done, is seeing a dance you have taught extend beyond you into others. To see them carry it off. And the relief of knowing that my judgement was right - they could pull it off. It really is dizzying. A level of energy I never expected fills me. I'm not entirely sure I can remember being this energized by anything I've done on my own in quite some time. Maybe ever.

We are to the side, hugging, babbling, and being congratulated. I slowly realize that the audience had swelled significantly with friends of my dancers squeezing in to see this peice they had heard so much about.

Thankfully, new_man pulls me aside to remind me that others are performing and our voices are carrying. As the ringleader, I pull my elation down several notches and remind others to be a little quieter. I still feel awful for having interrupted another's moment of glory.

We stay for a bit. I remember a story from Yevsha triggered my inclination to stay and listen. I was also delighted to hear a Indian story by one of the long-time members of the Indian list. In staying for a few, we end up waiting out a brief rainstorm. And I feel the rightness of staying and getting to be an audience for a few more performers - feeding my interest and energy into *their* performances, as they did to ours.

We meander to Carolingia, eventually, where we are welcomed by the warm and loving arms of our Baron and Barony. Everyone of our expanding party finds a friend or three at this party, and soon we are a gaggle clogging up the entrance way. I survey the space -- we had been invited to dance -- and realize that I'd be nervous doing our peice, solo in the space we have. I will not ask it of my dancers. Once again, their faith is both exhilarating and frightening. We decide "no", and in friendly clumps of escorts, my dancers wander home for a satisfied sleep.

I hope we can perhaps perform in Carolingia, proper, soon. Must make a mental note to talk to upcoming autocrats and see where a space might be found.

After much socializing with friends from home, I, too, wander home - still quite dazed at this new found thrill. Though I have taught many times before, and directed choreographies before, and even taught Indian dance for a specific performance in the SCA before - never before have I gotten such a thrill. These ladies are special.