dancing in the streets

I. July, street festival tonight, awa-odori from Japan’s Tokushima Prefecture with long spindly legs, knees bent and crouched low as they wind down the street. There is dancing, music, drinking and eating. But the main point is watching the teams of dancers perform this traditional style of dance. Most love the guys who leap up from that crouch, turn 180, land in another crouch– reminds of the spinning gongfu kick where we kick our outstretched hand. But sometimes, I wonder, why bother? Why keep doing awa-odori when the swamp-rock band 200 meters down steals the show? Why do whirly kicks with no combative value?

II. Leaving for Beijing soon and cramming in all the China-related TV I can. Discovery Channel is cashing in on the Olympics and airing lots. One of those was a 30-minute special on a famous tight-rope walker from the Xinjiang region of China.
He is 36, can no longer perform as he used to, now teaches.

I am 40, can no longer perform like I used to, but remain a student, it being too soon to take on teaching responsibilities. Every day I think about the timing of moving back to the US. I feel dual pressures – one to get over there and start teaching asap because it will take 10, 20 years to build a foundation of students and organization and then I will be 60, old and decrepit. But another one to remain here in Japan as long as possible. I have so much more to learn from Mr. T and others. And the access to China, and his teachers, from here is so much better than from the US.

III. Back from Beijing and finally getting back to these notes. We had a local neighborhood festival a couple weeks back. No dancing, but carrying a big omikoshi (portable Shinto shrine) through the streets. Dress up in traditional gear and feel “Japanese” for a day. Each year I am tempted and think about doing it the following year. This year, again, I was outside, practicing obscure Chinese arts, as they passed by, and I wondered what it was they were preserving and whether I would join in the next year. I am similarly tempted to join as a drummer for one of the local dance groups, take part in the frenzy that culminates a year of practice.
But I suspect I will be outside practicing for next year’s omikoshi when they come along, and that I will be watching the awa-odori dancers from the sidelines next year with good friends as usual, sitting and eating and drinking and playing with the kids. And yes, I will still be working on those whirly kick-your-hand spinning kicks.