Relearning the Dance

The Stage
see all photos »

Malaybalay, Bukidnon.

The beat of gong to drum seems to chill a crowded auditorium in Malaybalay. The musicians are children, from tiny to teenager. Lights dim, drums cease, silence ensues. And then, from the center of the crowd on stage raises a body which flexes in dramatic movements.

They have emulated forces of Nature, captured the movement of flighty animals in their body's prose, and passed on the dance rituals from generation to generation.

Tribal Girl
see all photos »

After some plucked strings from a hallowed-log instrument, the boat-lute, a melody heightens the anticipation of those around me watching the dance. The young dancer does a squatted hop and jerks his limbs in synchronized rhythm. His palms reach the floor through the backs of his legs and it becomes obvious which tiny creature he is imitating.

"This is binakbak, or frog dance," volunteers the tour guide, who is seated to my left.

As the music continues, various tribes of Bukidnon display their ethnic dances. The costumes are bright and colorful. Their song is deep with lyrical philosophy. Though I do not understand this dialect, it is plain to see that music is a language which, when produced in earnest, transcends even boundaries of the tongue.

Dance of Warriors
see all photos »

Sometimes, her movements tell of pain, and at other times of joy and love. Sometimes she spells with her graceful limbs, the torture of living, but always, she speaks of the blessings that come from sacrifice.

I will continue to trail her paths, to traverse her mountain's peaks, for every day she will teach me another portion of the dance. I could choose to look to other lands and other tales of adventure…or, I could seek them out, right here on the ground where she kneels. Here, where the humblest parts of Nature come alive with feeling.

With a Little Dancer
see all photos »

Here, where even the smallest frogs dance.