Being Okay With Being Mortified

This year for UN day (which this school calls Unity in Diversity Day), I will be dancing a Sri Lankan style dance in the assembly with other teachers and students. Ms. Tanuja, a kindergarten teacher, has created a choreography that many people are struggling to learn, but I’m sure the final performance will figure itself out…. 

Pep, a friend of mine, and I learned some of the skills yesterday. We will be dressing up in blue, representing water. An image of this is below: 

I am in the far back

I have danced various styles of dancing, but out of any style I would classify Sri Lankan dance as the most unique. Similar to African in many ways, the style is simple but performed with strength and force. I find it difficult to perform it correctly as the dance should seem peaceful but demanding at the same time. It is a challenge to balance both moods. Having a good teacher helps. 

The Performance 

Credit to OSC Photographer

I had never in my life been nervous to do something I’m good at. But performing in front of my entire school, friends, teachers, principal and acquaintances took it to a whole new level. I am fine dancing my heart out alone, in MY bedroom, in MY house. I’ve never especially loved putting my talent out there for the world to see as it is slightly uncomfortable, but, I think I did well. I messed up on one small part and my mind over-analyzes it shamelessly. But I had fun. Surprisingly I loved it, and thus, it was a good experience. It’s something I hope I will get used to over time, as I do want to pick up competitive Latin dance in my future. But that’s a whole other post…

Credit to OSC Photographer

 

Basketball (from 0 to SAISA) – My rating: 9/10

Basketball as a valuable passing of time never crossed my mind before this season. I picked up basketball because I wanted to occupy my head with something it couldn’t comprehend. I didn’t understand the purpose of basketball, how it flows and functions like dominoes. I thought basketball was a boring, very uniform sport. It was just back and forth, back and forth. But then I realized the culture, I saw the tactical chess-like movements it makes. And then I loved it. It was difficult and not easy to be good at. I became properly obsessed for a little bit, I played everyday, by myself for a month or so. That eventually slowed down but my passion for it has not. 

I could barely dribble a ball three months ago, I thought the idea of hoops was dumb and now let’s just say I have a little more respect than that. I’ve gotten better, like anyone would. The school’s girls basketball team is travelling to Nepal in five days, which is not a lot of time left to come together as a team. We have an amazing coach (Mr. Hentz) who makes everyone feel positive, motivated, and happy – we really take advantage of this.

But I’m sure we can do it if we are patient with each other. We have been training for 13 weeks and now it’s time to put it all together. I think it’s important to realize that we all have strengths and weaknesses and we can overcome those easier as a team. 

SAISA!! (some pictures)

 

Results: We got fourth place! I am happy with my personal improvement and excited to do it next year.

A Week Without Walls

Most international schools have some form of ‘Week Without Walls’, where students travel to different visually stimulating locations, usually nationally, seeking knowledge that can be found more through experience and visual observation rather than that of learning in a classroom. We spend five nights away from home, forced to reconcile differences with the peers around us, and forced to swallow any sign of homesickness. If you feel that sort of thing. It’s the IB version of a field trip but better.

This year the DP1’s and grade 10s had a combined trip (this is something of a tradition here). There were four trip sign-up options. I traveled to Sigiriya, also known as ‘the biking trip’.

Exhibition Poster of Middle Way bike routes by Liam, Akhil and Mr. LeBlanc

Sigiriya is supposed to be a relatively large tourist attraction. And now looking back, I understand why. Fields of green and gold went on for miles, looking like something of an animation, not a blade of grass out of place. It had this sort of undeniable beauty about it. The opening bike ride was a shock of culture and scenery. Society was so adapted to nature there. They never seemed to take too much, but always took enough for comfort. Balance was attained, so different from Sri Lanka’s capital, Colombo. Houses of compact mud and straw, wood and sludge, tile and brick trailed the outskirts of the small town. Rivers and channels of water followed us around the trails of our stay, moderately welcoming; especially on the hot day that it was.

Lunch Time!

Camp was amazing. A resort called Back and Beyond hosted our stay for all four nights. We slept in treehouses, branches winding in and out through the roof and open walls just above our beds. 

As charming as it was, it had its drawbacks. It was the 2nd night that two members of the group had the unlucky experience of finding what we now know as the ‘Whipped Scorpion’. It invited its humble self to comfort on the wall above their toilet. It sadly died within a few minutes of its arrival. Its crunched and bloodied body now rests peacefully in the cracks between the bathroom tiles. A drawing for context is uploaded below (I will put it here eventually I promise). 

The nights, though, despite the miscellaneous creepie crawlies, were some of the best I had had in a long time. I mean of course there were moments when my social battery got the best of me but other than that the evenings were great. We played mafia, ghosts in the graveyard, innovative table ping pong, and other miscellaneous games. Comfortable chats became more common after the second day. We were getting more comfortable. However, our bodies, not so much. 

For daily activities, biking took the obvious win over most of our time. Those without the common sense of bringing bike shorts (including myself) were forced to deal with the pain of sore (EXPLETIVE). Excuse my language. I hope this picture makes up for it. 

Cute looking animal

Our longest day was day two. We rode 40-some kilometers. Definitely worth it. I would explain the scenery, the wetness of the forest and the heat of the fields but not even an image could do it justice, let alone words. I think that was the day I also got run over by a cow, if I remember correctly. My timid, small self somehow managed to scare the massive thing, leading it to charge into my bike head first. I fell. Obviously.

One of the hardest days was when we hiked the ‘mountain’. A multitude of stairs stood between us and the top but even through our poor cardiovascular endurance, we all managed the trek. The view was stunning. As usual. If you’ve ever looked out an airplane window on your way to or from the clouds you would know what I mean when I describe the innocence of the towns. The perfect squares representing pastures and farms. 

But more so than anything, food had to take the roster for the highlight of the trip. Our 14-student team was split into three groups which cooked different meals of their choice each night. 

My cooking group

Going home was really sad but it was also relieving to be able to sit down for three hours for the bus ride. I came back recharged and ready for school and able to ride a bike with no hands.

Isa Realizes That Not all Sports Involve Balls

Dancing, in general, is something I’ve always refused to take seriously because it’s “not a real sport” or “it’s a girls sport”. I’ve always loved to dance, but that’s not something I’m used to saying out loud because it’s an oddity. A few days ago I decided to not let a stereotype decide what I like, so I manned up and dropped in to a dance class. I had never danced in front of anyone in my life and everything I knew up until that point was self taught. I was terrified. 

The first thing I tried was ballet at the Ballet School of Colombo, mistakenly taking it for something easy. The appearance that ballet is an innocent pastime is entirely false. I struggled brutally. I have never respected real dancers more in my life. It was enjoyable, but agonizing and took more flexibility than I could muster. It was wonderful, but repetitive, slow and not what I was looking for so I didn’t go back. 

However, a few days ago I went to a studio called ‘The Dance Lab’. It specializes in different types of dance. The class I took was called ‘Lyrical Dance’ or what most people know as ‘Contemporary Dance.’ I don’t think I’ve ever been so much in my element in my life. Other than hitting a punching bag no sport has ever satisfied me to the same extent. As embarrassing as it is to admit that, it’s true.

All in all, unlike what most people think, dance is more than just some elegant show. It takes hard work, which I’m beginning to learn, and more strength than any school sport you’ll ever come across (as much as I love those, too). Dancers are tough and sadly, forced to have thick skin.

In my experience (experience being the two sessions I’ve attended), dancing is like having an extension of yourself that you can pretend to be. It involves a lot of self-awareness. Knowing your body, your limits, how your muscles and ligaments move together to make art. How you can express something so real to you through the simple things and movements. Dancing is an art form and I won’t let anyone say otherwise. 

I plan to take more classes at The Dance Lab. For example, Latin dancing, which would be fitting for my heritage. Most dancing, especially Latin, involves significant collaboration with other people, synchronization and a level of comfort with another person. It’s similar to taking two colors of paint, and blending them to make one. It’s complicated and impossible unless done perfectly right.

Anyways, I’m sure I will learn much more. I’m excited too. Thrilled actually. Part of me wished I started sooner, but better later than never. My biggest takeaway is that not all sports involve balls. Dancing may be different, but it is awesome nonetheless.