Learning How to Dance

Ever since I was young I have always wanted to learn how to dance. I love to watch people dancing covet-ly wishing I too was experiencing what appears to be a blissful world outside of yourself. I didn’t really grow up in the boogieing sort of family, except weddings or other such formal occasions. Dancing has always been one of those actions you should have been taught at a young age, kind of like how to ride a bike or cook microwave popcorn, but now that I don’t know how, it is somewhat thwarting to try. I have learned lately that dancing is more than just moving your feet and swaying your hips but rather an act of letting go and allowing something outside of yourself to take over. Integrating into a new culture is sort of like dancing: it requires graceful action, understanding the steps, and respecting the force outside of yourself moving you forward.

When I lived in Tanzania the hardest part was my lack of social connections and personal relationships with the local community. I have realized over the past few years that this is vital for my happiness. Therefore, when I left Tanzania I vowed that I would never return to Africa long-term. Unconsciously, I think I was relating my unhappiness to my location and not where it deserved, my deprived relational soul.
The past five months in Madagascar have gone by – some days at a crawling pace and others, I blink and the week is behind me. So now instead of thinking how long I have been here, I am thinking how much time I have left, only six weeks.

Regardless of how frustrating things are at times and the loneliness that creeps in unwelcomed, Ambositra has become a place familiar thus creating some sense of peace. The greatest lesson I have learned since living in Madagascar is how to live in Madagascar, in all aspects of life. Sometimes it is easier to crawl into an isolated shell than navigate your way through cultural taboos and cross-cultural communication, which at times feel like massive hurdles in attempting to create community.

The past five months I have attempted to penetrate into this community I am surrounded by and find a place there, even so out of my element I sometimes feel. I have learned that I need to take part in the life of those around me in order to be a part of it, which I think is the case in all circumstances but even more so when you don’t speak the same language and come from different cultures. You cannot expect them to enter your world because they have no reference what that is or what it looks like.

Over the past five months, the Malagasy have embraced me; however, it was up to me to allow that to happen. It required letting go, confronting insecurities, and often times being put in awkward, uncontrollable situations. As a result, I have gained a community who loves me and protects me. I have never been loved for something as simple as sitting down and sharing a bowl of rice, shooting some hoops, or attending a church service. I am amazed at the bonds that can be forged despite knowing so little about someone and the inability to even inform them.

Twenty-four years later, I have finally learned how to dance. Don’t get me wrong, I still have a long way to go in the rhythm department but I have the first step down: letting go and enjoying life outside of what I previously understood it to be.