I was taking a bath, with a large steel bucket of water and a plastic mug, the Indian way. In the silences between taking up mugs of water and pouring them on myself, I heard a dull, long chant from somewhere. I thought it was maybe a car with speakers from a temple going by, which happens from time to time in this area, though I'd never heard it here specifically. It was still going on when I toweled up and got dressed. I heard people talking in the living room. Maybe they were playing an old TV show? I walked in casually, not expecting to see a man I'd never seen before standing in the living room with my cousin, Rosa. He smiled at me. I was in my pajamas with a towel in my hair. Oops. I went out of the room, embarrassed, and watched from the doorway. The chanting sound had been music coming from the stereo. The man stomped his feet and made elaborate, flowing gestures by folding his fingers and hands in a pattern, while Rosa made the exact same motions, though with a five-second delay. So Rosa was taking Bharatanatyam lessons.
Bhartanatyam, or Bharat Natyam as it is sometimes known in the north (we have longer words in the south) , is a classical Indian dance originating from Tamil Nadu, the state next to ours. If I had to, I'd say Bharatanatyam is like an Indian ballet - both dances are centuries old, require years of practice before the dancer can put on an adequate performance, and are set to classical music. One thing I've noticed in both Bharatanatyam and ballet are that the female dancers dress more elaborately than the male dancers. One difference between the two though, is that Bharatanatyam is done barefoot, so the dancers don't need to wear anything like those dainty but bone-crushing steel shoes that ballerinas wear.
But dancing barefoot isn't all that easy. Were you to listen to someone practice, as I am now, you'd probably be hearing,
(soft classical singing)
"ta-ka-ta-ka-ta-ka"
STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
Yup, Bharatanatyam involves a lot of stomping. We used have a Bharatanatyam class back when I was in high school in India. I used to sneak around and watch them practice from the back of the room. I'd bend my legs and stomp my feet like them, but it only worked for a few poses before I was exhausted and my knees hurt. Worse though, one of them might see me and think I was mocking them, but even though I giggled a lot and ran away, I wasn't mocking them. I wanted to be able to dance like them, but I was too lazy to sign up for a class that required seven years of practice before you actually went on stage for your arangetram (It's pronounced "aa-ran-geh-thrum". When I first saw a notice for it at school I thought it was "arrange-a-tram", like a game show where students were supposed to solve tangrams), your debut performance. Sometimes I show off the few moves I memorized at parties. They all seem to love it. I'm still waiting for someone to pop out of the crowd and tell me my performance is bullshit.
I've been writing for about a half hour. Rosa is still practicing. She moves with the same energy as when she started, not apparently tired, but her moves are smoother. She starts out with one leg extended and her arms folded up close to her chest, like a stereotypical ninja pose in a movie. The ninja pose turns into a series of arm movements that look like tai-chi, but faster and with more stomping. Sometimes she forgets a move and starts grinning that childish Rosa grin that I'm used to seeing, but throughout the rest of her practice her face is serious and unaffected. She's seems older than I'd ever imagine she could be.
Outside my dad and my boy cousins are playing badminton on a red clay-dirt court. My grandma and my girl cousins are sitting on the steps and peeling the skins off nutmeg. Smoke is coming out from a wood fire in the storehouse. It's not a typical evening in India, of course, but it's a good one.
Except for the little bugs crawling on my computer screen. That's one of the less exotic parts of this trip.
Bhartanatyam, or Bharat Natyam as it is sometimes known in the north (we have longer words in the south) , is a classical Indian dance originating from Tamil Nadu, the state next to ours. If I had to, I'd say Bharatanatyam is like an Indian ballet - both dances are centuries old, require years of practice before the dancer can put on an adequate performance, and are set to classical music. One thing I've noticed in both Bharatanatyam and ballet are that the female dancers dress more elaborately than the male dancers. One difference between the two though, is that Bharatanatyam is done barefoot, so the dancers don't need to wear anything like those dainty but bone-crushing steel shoes that ballerinas wear.
But dancing barefoot isn't all that easy. Were you to listen to someone practice, as I am now, you'd probably be hearing,
(soft classical singing)
"ta-ka-ta-ka-ta-ka"
STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
Yup, Bharatanatyam involves a lot of stomping. We used have a Bharatanatyam class back when I was in high school in India. I used to sneak around and watch them practice from the back of the room. I'd bend my legs and stomp my feet like them, but it only worked for a few poses before I was exhausted and my knees hurt. Worse though, one of them might see me and think I was mocking them, but even though I giggled a lot and ran away, I wasn't mocking them. I wanted to be able to dance like them, but I was too lazy to sign up for a class that required seven years of practice before you actually went on stage for your arangetram (It's pronounced "aa-ran-geh-thrum". When I first saw a notice for it at school I thought it was "arrange-a-tram", like a game show where students were supposed to solve tangrams), your debut performance. Sometimes I show off the few moves I memorized at parties. They all seem to love it. I'm still waiting for someone to pop out of the crowd and tell me my performance is bullshit.
I've been writing for about a half hour. Rosa is still practicing. She moves with the same energy as when she started, not apparently tired, but her moves are smoother. She starts out with one leg extended and her arms folded up close to her chest, like a stereotypical ninja pose in a movie. The ninja pose turns into a series of arm movements that look like tai-chi, but faster and with more stomping. Sometimes she forgets a move and starts grinning that childish Rosa grin that I'm used to seeing, but throughout the rest of her practice her face is serious and unaffected. She's seems older than I'd ever imagine she could be.
Outside my dad and my boy cousins are playing badminton on a red clay-dirt court. My grandma and my girl cousins are sitting on the steps and peeling the skins off nutmeg. Smoke is coming out from a wood fire in the storehouse. It's not a typical evening in India, of course, but it's a good one.
Except for the little bugs crawling on my computer screen. That's one of the less exotic parts of this trip.
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| A professional Bharatanatyam dancer. Also, on behalf of the little sign in the corner, please visit Kerala. |
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