6.12.2006
Dancing the Hungula
To dance the Hungula, first you have to find where a band is playing. Electric keyboard, drums, shakers, a clanging metal ring, and vocals sung through enormous, low-quality speakers. Then you watch them warm up, playing songs with no vocals as you sip your soda or your beer. Then, once the singer takes the stage, and the crowd gets big enough, and you, being the only white person there, get your nerve up, you’re ready for the dance floor.
So you bend your arms at the elbow and flap them up and down or move them like you’re running, but keep your shoulders pretty still. The step, if you choose to do one at all, is left-right-left-right and you can do it on every beat or every other beat, or some combination thereof. Then you move your hips, as much or as little as you want, and you’re dancing the Hungula! You can dance by yourself, or in a group, or with a partner. Your Luo counterparts laugh at the lyrics to the songs and point out the other people you are dancing with—politicians, prostitutes, and other scandalous personalities of Kisumu’s elite. The old guys have big bellies but still like to gyrate like salamanders, and the married women dance with each other, looking respectable. The women have all had their hair done, but their clothes range from T-shirts and jeans to evening wear with sequins. The men wear loud shirts and pants that balloon at the hip and taper at the ankle. It’s raucous but relaxed, a great form of exercise, and a very fun evening.
So you bend your arms at the elbow and flap them up and down or move them like you’re running, but keep your shoulders pretty still. The step, if you choose to do one at all, is left-right-left-right and you can do it on every beat or every other beat, or some combination thereof. Then you move your hips, as much or as little as you want, and you’re dancing the Hungula! You can dance by yourself, or in a group, or with a partner. Your Luo counterparts laugh at the lyrics to the songs and point out the other people you are dancing with—politicians, prostitutes, and other scandalous personalities of Kisumu’s elite. The old guys have big bellies but still like to gyrate like salamanders, and the married women dance with each other, looking respectable. The women have all had their hair done, but their clothes range from T-shirts and jeans to evening wear with sequins. The men wear loud shirts and pants that balloon at the hip and taper at the ankle. It’s raucous but relaxed, a great form of exercise, and a very fun evening.
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Your word pictures are even more vivid than your photographs. I love the picture of you dancing the Hungula. You are beautiful!
I just discovered your post to my blog with your question about linking mine to yours. If I put myself out on the web I guess I can't object to your posting a link, but I hardly feel worthy. People can get to my blog through my comments on yours, though. I don't have a counter so I don't know if anyone has. I write more entries in my head than I post.
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I just discovered your post to my blog with your question about linking mine to yours. If I put myself out on the web I guess I can't object to your posting a link, but I hardly feel worthy. People can get to my blog through my comments on yours, though. I don't have a counter so I don't know if anyone has. I write more entries in my head than I post.
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