My neighbor scored free tickets to an Indian dance performance over at the Lincoln, so I and his partner walked over to enjoy colorful costumes and dancing.
The first half was the local dance troupe just dancing. No story that was being told just dancing. I made up my own story, which was this was a girl gang of Indian dancers who were competing with the Irish step dancing gang. Then there was the out of town troupe, and it started off well then went downhill in a sari.
It began with a fellow on stage then down the aisle came the dancers with one fellow dressed as the Elephant god, whose name escapes me, on the shoulders of the male dancers. The story, yay elephant god! That I could figure out. The rest of it was three stories. One taking place in an ancient time, a story probably familiar to Indians or Hindus, but lost on me and my Jewish companions. The MC did sort of go over the story and it's history but I'm sorry, I had no friggin clue what the feck was going on. Something about a nasty rumor against the queen and her going through adversity. Yeah.... I'm sure if I was more familiar with the Sunday school version of the story I could better appreciate the alternative view and interpretation of the story, but no. While this was going on, on stage, the boys were nodding off. We escaped after the first story.
The other problem was the hand signals and gestures. This is also based in culture, which I couldn't interpret either. I could tell that the gestures meant something. Some were universal like sadness, crying, grief, NO!, and pregnancy. The rest, don't know and that was frustrating.
No comments:
Post a Comment