I write about my life as a woman (wife, mother, learner) twice a month in Cebu Daily News’ Opinion Section. This article was published on August 20, 2016. Click here for the link to CDN’s website.
The teacher announced during the regular monthly meeting that parents are encouraged to present a Filipino dance during the school’s culminating activity for Buwan ng Wika.
It is August after all and the customary celebration of honoring the national language would surely be filled with songs, dances and poems.
My heart fluttered and my blood pressure probably went up a notch higher in excitement. I am going to dance for the first time in my children’s school activity!
I have always loved performing and this was extra special because, I thought, I will be collaborating with other mothers. My mind was projecting all sort of creative scenarios. I imagined myself as a Muslim princess, the center of attention, clad in sparkling gold costume. I envisioned daily uninterrupted practices at the barangay gym. My imagination even went as far as hiring a dance instructor to refine our movements.
Real life, however, is not always shining, shimmering and splendid.
Most of the mothers and fathers I met here and have had conversations with in the last 30 days can barely make ends meet. Buying a P.E. uniform, for instance, which costs 200 pesos entails weeks of saving money from their husbands’ labor-intensive jobs.
When it came down to planning the dance, only five expressed interest to dance with me. There goes my dream to be a Muslim princess. Many said they could not afford the costume and they have no time to spare for practice. The teacher was very encouraging and told us we can practice at the gym or outside the classroom while she is having a class.
Five other classes at our barangay’s Early Childhood Care Center will also have mother groups who will dance. If it is not yet obvious in the previous paragraphs, let me declare that I am very competitive; I did not want our group to look shabby.
In the years that I have interviewed social development workers and management experts and wrote about them in newspapers, I have learned that dole outs are discouraged and should be highly avoided especially in dealing with the so-called “less privileged members” of society.
But I could not just sit there and do nothing.
I have a vested interest: I wanted to dance.
A single mother suggested we perform a Muslim dance because we will only wear black shirts paired with black leggings accented by malongs. But several mothers objected about the malong because not many own one and a malong costs at least P300.
So I brokered a deal with them: everyone who joins the dance gets a free malong made from our choice of material. Many got excited and not long after, we were counting the steps for our dance which runs for three minutes and 24 seconds.
Practices do not come easy.
We usually rehearse between eight to 10 in the morning when the children are having their class. Our rehearsals are interrupted by our children’s snack time, fights, screams and cries. Some of the mothers have younger children who they bring to school. Some are barely a year old so there is always a child or two beside one of them when they wave their arms or do the sidesteps.
We do not have a dance instructor. We watched a video on YouTube and improvised. The little space at the back of the classroom limits our movements so we are like sardines in a can. We just started making our props and have talked about a dress and make-up rehearsal.
We will perform on Aug. 30 but most of the mothers said they are worried that we might not be able to come out with a decent performance so they said we should rehearse today, a Saturday.
I did my happy dance when they told me this. Rehearsals were revelations to me. I got to know each one of them: their struggles, their dreams, the kind of lipstick shade they like, what ticks them off, what makes them happy, the loans they have made, and some more intimate details a woman can only share with another woman.
Today, a Saturday, my birthday, we are at the San Vicente Gym in Liloan working out our simple dance steps and formations. Afterwards, we will share a meal of rice, lumpia and pancit bihon.
This is not what I imagined my 30th birthday would be but I don’t think I would want to have it any other way. Entering the 30 threshold means making several adult decisions and that includes being able to relate with other adults. In my case, mothers like me who manage to survive in a world where it is still difficult to be a woman.
The Buwan ng Wika celebration on Aug. 30 is also a celebration of the language that mothers speak: the language of love and sacrifice. Because… seriously, it is no joke to allot time to practice a dance when there is a mountain of laundry waiting at home.
But these mothers made it work.
I am excited and inspired to dance with you.
Good luck to us mga Nanay!
