On I Went To Meet My Southeast Asian Hero, Dr. Jose Rizal

By Soultari Amin Farid

noramin_dd@yahoo.com

It felt like a mini-pilgrimage for me. Taking that 1 hour walk from my hostel to a place where I would meet a statue of a personality I so admire. When I finally came face to face with him at the midway of a street called "Av. De Filipinas", I knew I was face to face with someone I truly admire.

I first came to know about Dr. Jose Rizal during a research about postcolonial independence for an undergraduate essay in Australia a few years back. Back then, being so motivated by postcolonial theories and fuelled by my frustration with the ongoing discourses about what it means to be a Malay in Singapore and the Malaysian-Indonesian feud about who should lay claim to the origins of the song, "Rasa Sayang", I (re)turned to history to find out more about our common nationalistic aspirations and cultural affinities.

Through my research I found out about Jose Rizal and his desire to unite the Malay world. He was not a warrior but he fought through his books and intellect. His words spurred on the independence movement against the Spanish which eventually reach fruition, unfortunately only after his brutal execution, in 1898. The Filipinos were the first in Southeast Asia to get a taste of independence from their colonisers and established a republic.

Today I stand in front of his monument recalling my first encounter with this brilliant man, my Southeast Asian hero. Through him, I know it is possible to create change with words. And interestingly, I am here in the capital of one of the European colonisers standing proudly looking at the monument that was erected in remembrance of this intellectual individual.

30th December marks his 118th death anniversary.

“On this battlefield man has no better weapon than his intelligence, no other force but his heart.” 

― José Rizal

That French Cafe Meet-up

By Soultari Amin Farid

noramin_dd@yahoo.com

In a French café replete with cultural texts and posters of arts events, quietly tucked in the corner of Clermont Ferrand’s heartland, three dance researchers with teacups in hand are completely absorb in lively discussion about CHOREOMUNDUS.

Their laughter and enthusiasm about topics ranging from sharing about life experiences and perspectives on dance anthropology add to the sprightly ambience of the meeting space: the palpable joy one gets from stimulating intellectual discussions.

In attendance are Ipshita Rajesh, Bharatnatyam practitioner and arts education advocate from Mumbai, India; Signa Schiavo-Campo, dance therapy advocate and contemporary dance enthusiast from Milano, Italy; and Amin Farid, the one from that overcrowded Island in Southeast Asia.

Truly it is a special moment for these seekers of knowledge who, although strangers, embrace at first meet with such familiarity and found instant comfort from the transaction of information between each other, learning more about the world: its complexities, its endless possibilities and, most important, its shared humanity.

They realise thereafter, although they might have already known individually, that this shared love for dance and their believe in its power to heal, educate and bring people together does exist away from complicated academic jargon and overwhelming theories which serves only to distract and mask the common man from something that, although admittedly can be complex, should simply be enjoyable.

“The friendship I gained from this programme is truly something that I treasure most.” says the bespectacled lady who is from the senior cohort of the programme. Her two contemporaries nod in agreement and start sharing about the fun times their cohort had performing in Norway during the Orientation week.

“Honestly, I would not have imagine all of this,” shares the Singaporean about the programme, “being here and the possibility of being in an European café talking to my Italian senior about my perspectives on dance. I feel that world has shrunk that I am able to just leave home to meet someone who shares the same experience and engage in such exciting discussions for hours on end”.

The petite lndian lady shares eagerly, “I feel even more calm now knowing that our seniors have gone through similar paths as us”.

Truly, the experience of tearing one’s hair when thrown into the sea of anthropology and the confusing concepts that hinders you from moving forward is not something to be reckoned with: let alone the Eurocentric views and examples that reminds one of a lingering colonised past.

Such is the experience a seeker of knowledge gets from a meeting with like-minded, like-experience people at a café nestled in a quiet street in the heartland of this French town.

Surely one cannot help but wonder of how it will be when eventually individuals, steeped in experiences and influences reaped through CHOREOMUNDUS, will meet one day in a gathering of sorts? A conference, maybe?

Hopefully it will be as lovely as this one.

Poetry (3): March On, Bruises and All...

By Soultari Amin Farid

noramin_dd@yahoo.com

March On, Bruises and All

And so we fall...Time and time again, to the same tune.Oh, the bruises.

I've seen better days, but today that eventful fall...a reminder: victim of circumstance.

But I'm sure, it's clearI'm no pushover.Because every tune must have an end.

So I choose to end it,Without hesitation,On a high note, this time!

I stand up,dust myself off,And march on.

Marching on to a better tune, this time.A tune that I created,Empowering me as I hum it.

Because after that eventful fall,I must stand up and march on,bruises and all.

- Soultari Amin Farid25 November 2014

Poetry (2): Greeting Eiffel, My Friend

By Soultari Amin Farid

noramin_dd@yahoo.com

Greeting Eiffel, My Friend.

You are my earliest memory.

Of a moment when it felt like a dream.

I must have been a third of current height,

When I saw you looming before me, like a huge giant.

I never knew what was your worth, then.

Or your exuding historicity.

But at that height, you were the symbol of what is to come,

That desire to explore the world.

Now thrice my former height,

24 years later, looking at you.

you loom before me, as a symbol of my little struggle,

To show that little dreams do come true.

So I greet you Eiffel,

with a smile so broad,

greeting my long lost friend,

I met a quarter century ago.

- Soultari Amin Farid 

15/11/2014

The Family in Paris

By Soultari Amin Farid

noramin_dd@yahoo.com

Shh... the family is asleep. Yes it is only 9.30pm and everyone, except moi, is sound asleep in this Parisian apartment right beside a noisy boulevard. Ah, there goes an ambulance, its piercing siren penetrating through these walls. And no, le bruit (the noise) does not stir them one bit. *sniggers to self*

I am at the kitchen looking at the amount of spices and asian groceries Mummy: a mix of food brought from Singapore and the booty she managed to gather from a day's trip to the supermarket nearby earlier today.

She was complaining why are French vegetables so few: carrots, peas, cauliflower and broccoli. Maybe she was expecting some European species of kang kong (water spinach), buk choy (chinese cabbage) or even taugeh (bean sprouts) to appear somewhere, somehow at the Monoprix supermache (supermarket) next door.

And tucked in the corner, is the mini rice cooker. Yup, an Asian must-have. Ah what great Siamese rice I had today all thanks to that rice-cooker.

I walked to hall and I looked at both my parents, lovingly cuddling each other. I can't help but be reminded about the many travels I had with them. The two individuals who gave me a glimpse of the world and were the main reason I thirst for it more and more as I grow.

Now, close to a quarter of a century later, we meet in this city: where it all began. My earliest memory I had of travelling the world, is that moment I was at the top of the Eiffel tower. I recalled being petrified at the height of this monument. I must have been 4 or 5 years old. Now, said "Wonder of the World", is a few metro stations away.

And I wonder how it will be when I meet it again.

This monument, a symbol, instrumental in making me the globetrotter that I am today...

The Malay Dance Scene Gears Up For MUARA 2014

By Soultari Amin Farid

noramin_dd@yahoo.com

It seems the Malay dance family in Singapore is all geared up for MUARA 2014: Malay Dance Festival By The Bay @ the Esplanade.

Quietly I observe this intense moment online when every group is hard at work to ensure that they give their best for the 3 day festival this coming weekend. I appreciate it very much that they have entrusted the documentation of their works, knowingly or unknowingly, onto social media. Overseas practitioners such as myself, at the very least, are able to witness the splendour of their artistic journeys without having to be present real-time.

Yes, watching excerpts of their trainings make me emotional. Why? Because it means that the Malay dance scene in Singapore is active and, inevitably, flourishing. The coming together of the young and old, revival of dance pieces of the past performed by today's youths, the appreciation of tradition ultimately shows that Malay arts in Singapore continue to remain relevant and practised.

Groups despite their differences and implicit (sometimes explicit) competitiveness understand the importance of the arts towards the realisation and awareness of that Malay identity -- particularly considering the restrictive constraints of a Modern Multicultural society.

That when faced with the promises of modernisation which privileges popular culture, Malay artistic expression (exemplified through the hard work of Malay dance groups) has proven that it exist in the present and ever ready to move alongside modernity.

To Dance and Be Dance...

By Soultari Amin Farid

noramin_dd@yahoo.com

All this reminiscing about dancing on stage again, made me recall that moment when I uttered these fine words: "I am hanging my dancing shoes".

Haha, well probably those shoes should remain hung in that closet for many years to come because my dance doesn't require shoes! - bad joke.

Yes, yes it is just an expression to assert one's desire to stop dancing. But when I said that a few years ago, I was probably not thinking right. Till today, even if I tried, I can't. Because for me, to dance is to be free.

Free from the chains that stops me from expressing my true self. The only way I am capable of being fully honest to myself and the people around witnessing the spectacle as it unfolds.

The finest moment when I lose control of myself and I allow the dance to take its natural course. Yes, that ecstasy I am talking about.

Probably one day, this body shall cease to move the way I am able to do now. And maybe I will never be able to reproduce that same feeling of liberation once my limbs chooses to fail me

but at the very least, I am able to say that I know how it felt to be free...

I know how it felt to ... "be dance".