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Thursday, April 28, 2011

I could have danced all night

Back home, I was dance-floor shy, especially when I had to contend with dancers who have personal DIs (dancing instructors) or who take dance lessons to be able to show-off their skills on the dance floor.  Partying in Northern Uganda, everywhere in a hall is a dance floor.  There are no steps to remember or hand movements to synchronize.  There is no slow drag or cheek-to-cheek as it can be considered as PDA (public display of affection) - a cultural taboo. It has been been said that Africa brought modern music (rhythms of reggae, soul and jazz) to the world through America.  There are local songs in English and they can compose songs about malaria, women abuse or mumble-jumble words with accents at the wrong places;  some lyrics are satirical, incoherent if not corrupted. 
Let it rain; we'll keep dancing
Dance 'til the twins come out
Music is long, beat is bubbly and repetitive, almost chant-like.  Africans (I mean Acholis) just dance spontaneously - whether at the beginning, middle or end of the music.  People, young and old, whether alone or in groups of the same or different genders, just find a place where they can sway to the beat.  The basic movement is stomping of the feet; the body gyrations are an individual style.  They like to dance in a circle and display the many ways they can accompany the music with their body movements. But there is something magical or trance-like or infectious about their dancing. 
Mazungus must learn how to catch the spirit
It is perhaps the sound and beat of the drums, the complete abandon of all inhibitions and the joy in the dancers' faces that make one join the foray with spontaneity.  The language of their music is emotion. Someone said that if music were wealth, Africa would be rich.  
There is probably too much dancing that is why this child had to don this t-shirt which says:  Mom and Dad, you are fired. 

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