Intangible Cultural Heritage

I figure that while I am in Nepal I should really make an effort to do and try as much as I can, so when my host mother suggested that I accompany her when she went to her aerobic dance class I couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no. I accepted her invitation not knowing exactly what sort of commitment I was making. Our initial conversation happened over my morning cup of Nescafe and when I returned home that evening I was presented with a pair of purple Nepali dance slippers. While I know that they weren’t a huge investment of money, I did get the feeling that I was somehow already involved in something more than I had anticipated. Once you get gear it usually means more than a one time affair, and I can’t help but think that this point was not lost on her either. As it turns out the class meets 6 days a week, and unless I have other pressing things to do at 6:30am I now know where I will be spending almost every morning during my time in Nepal - in an overheated “dance studio” in Kathmandu with a dance teacher so small I could fit her in the palm of my hand, my 58 year old host mother in trousers and kurti, and a twenty-something guy who is, according to my host mother, the team leader. Based on his overwhelming enthusiasm for The Dance I can see why he was appointed to this role. The past two mornings we have walked into the room to find him thoroughly engaged with his reflection in the tall mirrors as he practices rolling his entire body while maintaining eye contact with himself. And his high kicks are something to behold; what they lack in control they make up for in gumption. Very reminiscent of the way Shelley Long and her scouts do the Freddie in the 1989 classic film Troop Beverly Hills.

We leave the house no later than 6:45am, making our way down the hill, past people crouched down in their front yards brushing their teeth and the woman hanging clothes out to dry as chickens and babies circle her feet. Past the banana trees and gardens protected by broken glass, all the way down till we hit Ring Road where we cross over the River Stink and the slums and oddly healthy looking patches of corn that line its banks. Past where the cows and people sleep on the side of the bridge. Under the monkey traipsing on the power line. Past the guy refurbishing shoes and the lady with her sewing machine waiting patiently for a customer, dodging the pubescent boys who lean out of the open doors of the micro buses calling out the names of various destinations around the city. By the time we enter the unadorned little doorway sandwiched between storefronts and have climbed the stairs to the floor where X-Pose runs its talent training operations my senses are exhausted and my teeth are gritty and coated with dust.

Because I have joined the class late in the term I don’t receive much help, and have instead been instructed to just follow the lead of the teacher, which I do with a remarkable lack of grace and poise. Because both the Hindu and Nepali dances that I am learning are very gestural, frequently requiring me to flick my wrists and flap my arms while doing 180 degree turns on one foot, I have to be very careful that none of my limbs accidentally make contact with anyone else's head or stomach. The first half of the class is time for warm-ups, and we do the regular preparatory exercises of jogging in place, kicking in various directions, and hopping back and forth, but there are other moves that are a bit less traditional than what one does in western dance classes. Part of me wishes that I could share this experience with someone with whom I could later process, but I also know that if I had a companion I would most likely not be able to control the fits of laughter that I constantly have to swallow when the three of us are trying to perfect moving our heads from side to side with attitude while our shoulders and bodies remain stationary. If nothing else I will be an expert at walking like an Egyptian by the time I leave Nepal.

I read in the news today that Nepal has ratified the UN Convention on Intangible Cultural Heritage and I feel that by learning the craft of modern Nepali dance I am doing my part in spreading some very intangible cultural heritage. I only wish I could do it with a little more flair.