Ang Akong Estudyante sa Sayaw
Jul 24, 2013 // By:Gloryrose Dy // 2 comments
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Ang Akong Estudyante sa Sayaw
Katong college pako, isa pa pud ka dancer sa UPMindanao Dance Ensemble, gi invite sa SK Chairman Project sa nabunturan na mag tudlo sa ila sa isa ka workshop ug sayaw. Nalipay kayo ko kay gusto jud kayo nako mag tudlo ug high school.
Gi tudluan nako sila ug basic na jazz ug contemporary dayun naakoi partner na hawud sa dance theatre. Siya ang nag tudlo sa dance theatre. DUha ka adlaw ang workshop.
Ang mga studyante mga high school. Lipay kaau sila kay naka tuon sila ug pamaagi sa warm up ug mga style sa pagsayaw na naa technique, insakto ug kanang dili sila mga injury. Gitudluan nako sila sa pag extend sa ilang mga kamot ug tiil ug pag flex para maka pakita sila sa ilang tinuod na gibati pamaagi sa sayaw.
Isa ka babae na dancer akong ganahan kaau kay pirte ka maau mo emote. Dili man jud siya hawud jud ug humuk lawas pero naa jud kahe sa iyang pag buhat sa movement na maka igo jud sa tao. Niingun ko na kato na babae na bata mahimo jud maau na contemporary dancer pag mudako na siya. Tsada kaau iyang tiil pag iyang sugdan ug saka bisan dili gwapo iyang linya.
Sa ilang pasundayag sa last day, nag perform sila ug sayaw na nagpakita sa identity sa tao and self reflection. Nundot kaau ang mga sayaw labi na sa katong isa ka studenyante na babae. Nag black siya tanan. Black blouse, black pants dayun nag solo siya. Ang mga audience naka hilak sa iyang sayaw.
Pag human sa pasundayag ug presentation, ni uli k okay pirte man ulana nya kailangan nako maka uli sa Davao dayun. Ni adto dayun ko sa nabunturan bus station ug nag sakay sa bus. Samtang naa ko dapit sa tagum na, nitan-aw ko kadali sa bintana sa bus ug naka kita kog tulo ka lalake na nag lakaw sa ulan nga naka black tanan, black boots, black raincoat na nag hoodie ug black na payong. Lain kaau sila tanawun mura sila ug tulo ka kamatayan. Nitutok ko kadale sa ila per okay paspas naman ang bus, nawala lng sila sa ulan.
Nalipay kayo ko pag abot nako sa davao. Na miss najud nako ang balay. Pag abot nako sa balay, gi tnaw nako akong cellphone ug gibasa ang texts nako. Isa ka text gikan sa organizer sa workshop na akong gi facilitate. “te, na bombahan ang nabunturan bus station. “ . ug gi basa nasad nako ang usa ka text na nagingun na katong akong studentyante na babae na hawod kaau na apil sa bomba ug na injury iyang tiil. Gi dalaw siya sa hospital kay kailangan na putlon ang iyang tiil.
Akong kalipay na lumos sa kaluoy. Daghan kaau to ug damgo na performer na kabalo ko maabot niya murag kanang mag sulay kag split unya adlaw adlaw ka mag stretching kay kabalo ka maka split rajud ka. Dili nako gusto maka limtan unsa ka maau mu perform to na bata pero. Kung naka picture lang jud ko sa workshop, naa unta koy remembrance. Pero kay wala man kay na focus kaau ko sa pag tudlo sa ila. Wala man juy maka picture sa unsa mabati sa isa ka performer labi na sa isa ka teacher.
Focus kaau sa goal Ang tao na naga perform kay ganahan nila ipaguwas ang mensahe na gikan sa ilang huna huna gamit ang lawas sa ilang performance. Usahay kay mura na gani silag naa sa lahi na dimension.
Kung wala man silay picture sa ilang performance, maka hinumdum sila at kay tungod usually ma trigger man sya mga butang na makita nila sama sa tulo ka lalake na naka black na nilusob sa ulan ug ang tiil na wala na
My Dance Students
When I was in my last year in college and still one of the dancers of University of the Philippines Mindanao Dance Ensemble, I was privilege to teach dance on one of the SK chairman projects in the town called Nabunturan.
It was a wonderful experience. I taught them basic jazz and contemporary dance and a partner, a theatre expert, taught them theatre.
The young dancers of which were composed of high school students were very happy that they were taught the basic and technical warm ups of dance that would not make them incur unnecessary injury in the future. Flex and leg stretches of the movements that I taught was more of to give them the chance to be able to have precision in dancing as well as express themselves through it.
One particular girl was very good with the movements. Here lines and technical was really not that good but when she performs, it is as if she is in another realm of reality and the audience are drawn to her. While teaching her movements, I thought to myself that this girl would certainly be a good dancer when she grows up.
On the last day of the event, they presented a wonderful piece about identity, self reflection. The girl student dressed in all black blouse and jogging pants presented here solo piece. The audience felt her dance so well and got teary eyed.
After the presentation, still filled with awe, I went to the bus station and prepared myself for a 2 hour ride home. It was raining so hard so I had to make sure I could get home before night time. While the bus was on its way to Davao. I looked at the window and noticed that three men walking on the road, dressed in all black raincoats with the hoods up and black boots. They were also bringing black umbrellas. I told myself and that time that they looked like the usually movie symbol of death and it felt eerie to me. Then, I went back to sleep while travelling.
Finally, I was able to reach Davao city, home at last. Then suddenly, I received a text that the bus station Nabunturan was bombed by unidentified bombers. The girl student who I was teaching dance was there. She was brought to the hospital. Apparently, she was near the area that was bombed and her leg was injured by the blasts. She had to be amputated.’
My excitement from the dance lessons was replaced with sadness. I wanted to remember this young girl who had really good extensions and powerful performance but all I could feel was sadness at that moment. If only I had taken pictures of them. But, I didn’t get a chance to take a picture while teaching those kids. I guess, I was just to caught up with teaching them and dancing with them.
We performers usually leave those tasks to spectators because our mind and body would literally be doing something else. And the memory left of us is triggered by little symbols we passed through everyday like men wearing black raincoats.