Connections

March 2014

On our first day at the Children’s Centre in Yangon, Myanmar, Remnant Dance artists invited children to sign up for one of five creative workshops: dance, music, visual arts, photography and costume design.  Along with 23 other boys and girls, a tall 13 year old boy turned up to dance.  Throughout the following week, his attendance fluctuated for group activities, but he always turned up to dance. 

This quiet young man was lost in a sea of bodies most of time we were there.  I tried to seek him out to speak to him in my halting Burmese.  He always ducked away, grinning sheepishly at this foolish Australian woman attempting to have a conversation in a foreign language.  I laughed; he laughed: we accepted we could not communicate.

Except that he could dance.

During movement exercises designed to facilitate sensory awareness of another person, this young boy suddenly had a lot to say.  At first, like all the children in the dance workshops, he grinned self-consciously when beginning to move with others.  He avoided eye contact, ducked his chin and observed what was happening before participating.  Gradually, with many friends cheering him on, he would launch himself into a form of break-dancing; almost as a way to clear his throat. 

In small groups and partnering work, he responded intuitively to gesture and when my turn came to mirror his movements, he was gentle but sure in his movement choices.  As we danced together, he began to tell me how he felt.  With the slow arc of a curved arm he invited me to listen.  With the contraction of his torso, and the tilting of his head, he challenged me to stretch beyond my own limited reach. 

He looked me straight in the eye, hands splayed and parallel to the floor, a pulsing rhythm daring me to look beyond our differences.  I followed.  I didn’t avert my gaze.  His face opened; mine softened.  He played with spatial dynamics, telling me what this day was like for him.  He let go and flung backwards. I nearly broke my back following as he stretched for the sky, trusting to hope.

In reaching beyond the physical space we both shared, we discovered there was much to say through our language in common. Even stranger than that, this exchange allowed for one of the clearest and deepest conversations I have had during our time in Myanmar.

Photography by Ellen Avery, reprinted with permission.