This appeared in the Glasgow Herald Blog Section 28 February 2008
The boy’s fingers of his left hand delicately ran across the spokes of the fence whilst his right hand balanced one dozen bricks on top of his head. It was morning; the sun was announcing itself proudly from above the Bengal Sea. Me on my porch swing my last day in Puri, leaning back swinging, and belly full, mind stretching its curious arms in the arch of the day. He was quite unaware of me caught in his own activity of balance and touch. A boy, no more than 15 at a man’s job building building building – the old fashioned way, hand by hand, brick by brick. And yet he is a child, with a child’s desire to touch the textures, of the fence, to feel his fingers rhythms. And I was watching him, not being watched, not on display but in the activity of seeing him.
This is a familiar scene in India, where boy meets man, girl meets woman all in one instant.
I am reminded of another scene when my music Guru brings me to his school. I feel like David Hasselhoff at a German rock concert. The students (ranging from 7-17 years) gather round me in happy anticipation and inquire after my singing. Soon I am plopped down next to harmonium, the tablas are brought forth and as I begin their songs, the students mouth the words with me (just in case). At the end, I receive Pavarotti applause and you think this would satisfy their appetites but no they want MORE. Gathered around me like that chick from “The King and I”. They want to know MY MUSIC from MY PLACE.
MY music, MY place?
And all I can remember is “The Hokey Pokey”.
But the crowds must be satisfied. I stand up proudly and indicate that they do the same. They do. And it begins, “You put the LEFT hand in, you put the LEFT hand out….and you SHAKE it all about…” etc… They follow without a hitch 34 young Indians, shaking it about to the hokey pokey on a Monday afternoon.
And it is finished, they want more but my resources are tapped. As I exit the school in my cycle rickshaw they stand on the balcony waving me on, waving me to come back. The cycle rickshaw weaves its way through the unpaved alleys, past the cows, under monkeys and people greet me as I go.
I wake from my musical reverie and am returned to the boy. He continues his choreography up and down steps, bricks in place, passing other workers, no words are spoken. Every time he must touch the fence. I have a bus to catch, meetings to go to and happy journeys ahead. And yet he remains in my mind still.
I continue to Jaipur.
Jay Juggernaut and Namaskar from Puri India!
These are my last days in Puri, on Saturday I have decided to return north where I will be re-connecting with Andrew Margolies Mezvinsky and continuing my artistic exploration and perhaps doing some charity work along the side and….where-ever life leads!
These past couple of days have been UNBELIEVABLE – through various random circumstance I ended up performing Odissi dance on the local television station and was interviewed by four of the local papers about my experiences…. I shall get copies of all and upload onto my site in due course….
In addition the BYOF Festival is on here in Puri (Bring Your Own Film-Festival) and I have decided to screen “Two Little Girls and the Big Bad Man” (written and directed by Waqar Un Nisa Nabi) and “The Streets” (written and directed by Tharan Parasutharan) which I produced as part of the Stacey’s Face Initiative… further details to be given in future email….
In the MEANTIME please check out my WEDNESDAY BLOG with the Glasgow Herald – this one begins “So this monkey lands on the breakfast table this morning….”. If you enjoy please comment and ALSO forward to friends!
I hope you are all well and happy– I am having an incredible time learning SO much in the challenge and beauty of it all…..
Lots of love
Kate E.
xx
From HERALD BLOG
28 February 2008 – MONKEY BREAKFAST
So this monkey lands on my breakfast table this morning. Some of you may be thinking I am speaking in the metaphoric sense and whilst the symbolism may be relevant– let me assure you it was a real monkey.
“Oh sweet Jesus”!
I exclaimed as one might in such a situation turning immediately Irish and upsetting my banana porridge.
In the meantime a cow pushed its nosy head over the café wall to get a look and was quickly shooed by the attentive Indian server as a spider dripped down on its spindly spiral of a web onto my journal looking up in anticipation as she pointed her toes in every direction.
Later in the day whilst sitting on my porch swing staring blankly at the Bengal Sea speaking to Mom in Philadelphia on my Nokia N73, a frog galumphed up in perfect view and sat at my feet for over an hour just watching as I spoke. She (my mother) is convinced it was an incarnation of my departed Nana.
In the meantime a crow has made its nest over my doorway and cackles ever time I exit, and butterflies have taken up permanent residence around my head.
It comes to me that perhaps the animal kingdom is waiting for me. Standing as they did on this particularly zoological day – quickly and at attention – various mythologies spring to my imagination – Noah, Old MacDonald, Snow White …
Two old geezers and an empty-headed anorexic bint.
But what did it all MEAN??? Was I to save, sing to or fry them up for tea?
I opt for the song, seeing that animal controls are pretty strict out of India (and what was I saving them from anyway?) and a ritual slaughter might be a little OTT on my otherwise tranquil days.
It’s true that many of my days I feel like Julie Andrews (on crack, but Julie Andrews nonetheless) so I figure I already have a head start despite the fact that S.W. is really a spineless balloon with a Mother-complex who I have no real respect for.
NOW Odissi dance is very complex and very difficult and very beautiful when done properly by the proper person. Whole sections are dedicated to learning how to move your EYES correctly. I could be described more of a proponent of ‘Comedy Odissi’ which might be (in any other form) seen as verging on the Satanic (seeing as these are temple dances and it would be like pole dancing for the Pope) but I digress.
It takes time to make something beautiful and in the interim you must accept the ridiculous. (That’s what I keep telling myself…). Bending my body into new positions assuring my Guru that “I am not being lazy my body doesn’t do THAT” I partially walk like a cripple now. In the meantime I have contracted a tropical rash on my hands and feet. My vanity (and believe you me I am vain) is being stretched to the max.
So while I try to embody qualities of grace and transcendence what actually transpires is that I look like a disease ridden crazy person popping bits of limb here and there whilst the animals look on.
