Thank goodness we all speak rhythm!

The prophetic musing my friend spoke in passing has truly become my career and revealed itself to be my life’s mission.  “Aysha, you can just become a dancing diplomat.” What my classmate suggested to me my sophomore year in college as I struggled to reconcile my interests in seemingly divergent careers has truly come to life.  Majoring in International Relations and going on to receive a Master’s degree in International Peace and Conflict Resolution, all while putting in long hours at the studio led me right here. 

And where is here? Well, last week “here” was the Joy of Motion Atlas studio where I spent two hours with about 40 of my new Brazilian friends conducting a bit of Hip Hop dance diplomacy.  My “Tales of a Dancing Diplomat” usually require me to use my passport and my minor in Spanish to get the job done.  Well, this time I had the honor of playing on my home field.  While I pride myself on my ability to pick up the basics of most languages, I had only mastered about 3 phrases of intelligible Portuguese.  However, I was sure there would be an interpreter should the “5, 6, 7, 8,” “boom-khack,” or hand gestures not be sufficient for getting the main points across.  Well, imagine how relieved I was that these students were fluent in English.  They still taught me some basic dance phrases and relevant body parts in their native tongue.  (Now my internal dictionary of useful but non-sequitur Portuguese vocabulary has greatly expanded…obrigado!)

However, as I have found in other similar experiences, rhythm is a universal language.  Sure countries and sub-cultures have their own traditional sound and movement, but we all have just that – sound and movement.  My new friends already know what should happen when you hear music. I simply gave them some new tricks and options for how they can react to the beat.  Applause greeted every move I introduced to them and proceeded every time they executed it.  We top-rocked, mean-mugged, popped, locked and grooved it out.  I shared the what, when and why of Hip Hop and then got schooled about the Brazilian-side of things.  Yup! You better believe the cipher turned into a full-out dance party exchange.  I got some one-on-one samba tips, got a live Capoeira demo, and learned many other Brazilian dances and rhythms. 

Smiles were abundant.  I love my job.  I get to share something I love and learn about how it looks in other cultures…for a living.  After a full-out paparazzi session of photos and hugs, our session was over.  But I continue smiling for two reasons: first because I know that everyone part of that workshop (the youth, the staff and myself included) will hold on to what we learned, and secondly because my friend was such a prophet and that workshop was just further evidence.

Many thanks to Joy of Motion for hosting the event and to World Learning for creating such a program.  Stay tuned for more Tales of a Dancing Diplomat…have passport, will dance!!

Photos of Oberlin Residency

Oberlin College Residncy

This past September, LRMP had an opportunity to go to Oberlin College.  Aysha Upchurch, Juliana Calderon, Nikki Gambhir and Natasha Hawkins represented the full company for the week, teaching master classes, setting choreography and performing.  Jessica Monnerat and the student-run company, And What?, were responsible for bringing LRMP to Ohio.  And What? dancers and other Oberlin students showed up in large numbers for 3 separate master classes and more than accepted the challenge of learning two new pieces in two days.  The culminating concert featured these new works and LRMP repertoire. It was a lot of sweat and laughter...and an all-around amazing experience. 

A Sole-ful Journey...pics

Enjoy pics from Honduras follow-up trip:

Returning to Honduras

I’m still here, but I’ll back: Revelations on an extended stay

Again, this was to be a four-day mission. But gracias to the snow in DC and cloudy conditions in Teguc, I was delayed by 3 days.  Notice I’m not complaining.  The extra time in 80 degree weather afforded me more time to hang with students, see more old friends, and go to La Tigra (a beautiful national park) with my dance family.  It gave me more time at the center to figure out what I would like to do on a return voyage. It gave me time to consider Eric’s suggestion of applying for a Fulbright. 

So, my wheels are turning…quickly.  Even though the political climate of the country has changed, I feel so at home and charged in this country.  And I can give something.  I feel like I’m supposed to come back and give. I often wonder why certain people focus abroad when there are so many problems at home. I’ve stopped wondering this.  I don’t know why I feel so connected to Honduras, but as Lempira said, “why not?”

I LOVE teaching and helping young people discover dance and the arts.  I went to school to study international relations.  I elected to start studying Spanish when I was 10 years old. I didn’t know what all of that could mean at the time, but now it’s making perfect sense.  It’s all been necessary for me for me to live this life and use the gifts God has given me.  So, I’m not going to question why Honduras.  Besides, who knows where I’ll be called to next. I still have to get back to Bolivia and hope to experience many new places for the first time.  But as for now, I’m going to keep trekking along with the goal to change the world one kick-ball change at a time.  Maybe I wear big ol’ rose-colored glasses or maybe because I know what dance has done for me, but I know that this mission I’m on…it works. 

Siempre estoy en casa!!

Though I’ve only been to Masca once before for 2 days, I always feel at home here.  It’s hard not to. First, George and Clara are two of the dopest people I’ve ever met. And their son, George Ever, is too cute!! They have made Masca their home and the base for George’s organization, Global Block.  This brotha is on a fantastic mission using Hip Hop worldwide to reach and teach young people.  They are both active with the Garifuna community, working in Masca to preserve the culture and traditions.  Between the two of them, they have the four elements of Hip Hop covered. George has been a Hip Hop activist for years and his experience is astounding. I consider it a pleasure to chat and build with him in their lovely home and village.  I’m glad that we both are on the same side and are going to team up for future programming. 

Little George is walking now.  I accompany him and Clara on their afternoon walk along the beach.  I could have sworn I was tired, but being here is so refreshing.  It’s not a tourist spot, but a real place.  You place your order at a restaurant and put it on your tab. Lovely!! Clara’s dad is like the chief of the village, a very nice man.  And the Sylvia Center is named after Clara’s mom. It’s where George and Clara teach workshops with the young people.  This place is a gem. The breeze and sound of the crashing waves is therapeutic. Que lastima that I will be leaving early the next morning to head to Teguc…again, I will definitely be back here!

Back at San Pedro Sula airport to go to Teguc.  Sad to leave my village, but excited to see my friends in the big city.  An uneventful flight, I arrive and am greeted by my friend and colleague, Isadora Paz.  She helped plan the last two envoy trips and has arranged a few workshops for me here.  I will be staying at the brand new Centro Cultural Arte y Amistad.  Mathilde runs this place and what an amazing job she is doing.   Paris-Tegu is an France-Honduras alliance organization that has created a place for youth to come to learn dance, visual arts, music and so much more.  They offer a holistic environment, teaching the kids about organic foods and how to take care of the building.  I’ll be staying in one of the guest rooms.  How sweet!! Living in an arts center…so if the choreography fairy visits me at 3 am, I could just jazz-run across the hall to the dance studio and get down.  (This never happened, though.) 

Thursday is a rest day.  I let my friends and students know I am in town and just relax.  Isadora and Lempira, her beau, are incredible dancers and friends. We have dinner at Isadora’s parent’s restaurants and catch up and start planning a future trip. (The theme of this trip is very Terminator-like, “I’ll be back.”)  Friday is here…YAY!! I have two workshops, covered by press courtesy of friends at US Embassy, and lunch with embassy colleagues.  The workshops were amazing…I got to meet new students and get reunited with some of my alums from last year.  What an honor to know that my students still remember me and the choreography from 12 months ago. Additionally, they embraced me as eagerly as before…if not even more so.  It was great to see Carmen Urcuyo and Eric Aldrich from the Embassy and not only catch up but plan for the future. 

I love teaching. Be it in DC or Bolivia or St. Kitts, I love teaching and opening up the world of dance to young people (and adults too).  Here in Honduras, there is a genuine lack of qualified teachers to meet the kids at their natural talent and give them technique and opportunities to use the dance as a career.  Knowing my students still remember the choreography from a year ago and still use it…it’s more than a compliment; it doesn’t stroke my ego, so much as it tells me there is an opportunity here to do more.  Well, my four-day voyage is coming to a close.  But I know that I will be back…May 2010 is looking good…we’re going to start there and see what happens.

Traveling…not always first class, but always an adventure

Feeling charged by my visit to Tela, I bid my hosts farewell (hasta la proxima) and begin my voyage by bus to Masca.  Suzanne was careful to advise me (many times) about the possibility of getting jacked and to kindly let the potential assailant have all my things.  I’m a world traveler from the Lou and already know what’s up, plus momma didn’t raise no fool.  HOWEVER, for about 6.8 seconds, I was scared out of my mind as an image of me having to relinquish the little that I possess to some delinquent. Well, after those 6.8 seconds passed, I reminded myself that I always travel as an Envoy from God and would say my traveling prayer and be good to go.  (Hey, don’t mock me!  It’s what I know and believe and it hasn’t failed me yet!)

The bus ride was uneventful, thank the Lord, but I will offer a little commentary.  I don’t like Greyhound or Peter Pan and I detest the Chinatown bus.  They’re always full and smell of some mixture of funky toes and two-day old bologna sandwiches.  I don’t like to be crowded, nor do I like the smell of food trapped in a vehicle.  (Don’t judge, I’m not being a diva, just stating my idiosyncrasies.)  My first bus is like a hot Chinatown bus, but minus the smell.  Not too bad.  I did manage, however, to pick the ONLY seat on the bus that received direct sunlight and had a broken window.  Problem: it’s hot as Hades here!! I’m sweating profusely sitting still.  We arrive at San Pedro Sula. I meet some Garifuna friends, Naul and Vanessa, who help me with my transfer.  The next mini directo bus to Puerto Cortes is nice…it’s air-conditioned and small and uncrowded…YIPPEE!!!   Random note: why has the bus driver picked a radio station that plays bad US 80’s music? Haven’t heard MC Hammer’s “Have you seen her?” in 15 years!

There was a big bus terminal in San Pedro Sula. So I assumed the same would be true in Puerto Cortes and I’d be able to more or less find my way with or without my new friends.  And the survey says…..NOOO!!  Thankfully Vanessa advises me to deboard with her and just wait a minute.  Ummm, ok.  She leaves around the corner and comes back and tells me to wait with this guy who will tell me which bus to take to Masca.  She leaves in her taxi and I sit down on the curb next to a friendly stranger and wait for the signal.  It’s a lovely day, so I just roll with it.  I engage my new friend in some conversation and enjoy my wait.  It really is a nice day and I feel myself taking on the calm of the pace of life here…and I like it.  I also like that I look like I’m from here.   I could be Garifuna…well until I open my mouth and my accent (I accept that I speak Spanish well but do not sound like a native) falls out.  So, it’s been nice traveling with my Afro-Honduran family. 

Oh, wait…here’s my bus.  YES!! I’ve been waiting to ride one of these…the super long yellow school bus.  Also, it’s totally normal for select people to get on and off this bus through the emergency exit.  Oh and the guy who takes the money, sometimes needs to get off and sprint across the highway to get change at a pulperia (little store).  Yup, just roll with it.  Gosh, this scenery is gorgeous.  Sometimes, I forget that trees SHOULD occur naturally.  How refreshing to see beautiful green trees, mountains and the beach front on this short voyage.  I’ve had an adventure today, but to take this in is so worth it. About 45 minutes later, I see something familiar.  There it is -- the little sign on the side of the road that lets me know I’m home.  Masca…I’m back!!