Dance the Don-Yen Away
Olivia Fee, 137 TESS
Lesson one of being a volunteer: sometimes you’ll find yourself in some odd situations. You cannot simply expect to only be an English teacher. In the morning you may be teaching, but by the afternoon you could be under the hot sun completing a random side quest that materialized out of nowhere. The quicker you can learn to expect the unexpected, the better. I first caught a glimpse of this at the beginning of the semester. Let me set the scene: it was the middle of May and I had just started my first official school year at site. I still felt really new to the community. One day, Becket’s counterpart, P. Kaew, called me out of the blue to ask if I could lead an aerobic dance class at the Subdistrict Administrative Organization (SAO) in a few days. Why me? I wondered the same thing. What makes me remotely qualified to teach aerobic dance?
My best guess was that some people had noticed how often my running routes would take me through their village, and, as a result, they realized my passion for aerobic exercise. Part of me was flattered that P. Kaew asked me, but another part was nervous for the task ahead. Either way, I accepted the offer and was determined to put on a great class. The eve before the big dance, I assembled a short playlist of American songs and practiced a routine in my room. I underestimated how hard it would be to plan the class until I was breaking a sweat at 10:00 PM on a Wednesday night. But soon enough my routine was complete.
My inaugural class the next day had all the makings of what I think is a uniquely “Peace Corps Volunteer” experience; one that embodies the random, humorous situations of service. The concrete base of the flagpole served as a stage from where I looked out to a sea of eyes on me, waiting to follow my next move. The class was composed of almost all of the SAO employees as well as some of my students. And, in true Thai fashion, there were not one but two cameras oscillating around the crowd to capture this highly anticipated event. I’ll never forget how funny it was to see my 70-year old mayor lazily bobbing along to Dua Lipa’s “Dance the Night Away”. Not to mention how awkwardly long the bridge in Daft Punk’s “One More Time” was, where I had no other choice to jog in place until it was over. And stepping side to side during Rihanna’s “Shut Up and Drive”. I thought to myself “if only my year-ago self could see me right now…”
My host mom and mayor in action.
And so it continued. Throughout the summer, I’d bike to SAO every Thursday at 4pm for aerobic dance. The event coincides with the community’s weekly market pop-up where a group of vendors set up shop in the field across from the stage. The ladies at these stalls are a perfect representation of the friendly and fun-loving people of Isaan. One week in early June I missed the class because of student home visits, but they greeted me all the same the next week, using my Thai nickname of “rose apple”, to ask “Champú! Where were you last week?” Sometimes they’ll even follow along with my dance routine from afar.
Pre-dance market pit-stop.
As June progressed, the size of the classes warranted some upgrades. I arrived one week to find a large wooden stage had been built. P. Puum, Becket’s co-worker, brought out a fancy drone to capture footage for the SAO’s Facebook page. Sometimes the crowds were really big and sometimes they weren’t. Sometimes I was on stage with several other people, and sometimes I’d do it solo.
One Thursday, about fifteen minutes before class started, the power went out. On a completely sunny afternoon. This meant we couldn’t use the enormous speakers to blare our Thai party music. But, the show must go on. We proceeded to begin an awkwardly noiseless aerobic dance class whose silence was only broken by the squeaking of our shoes on the stage. We danced for a few minutes before someone stepped forward to save the day: they had a speaker! The dance class was saved. But only for a moment, as it died literally two minutes after we began a song. As if things couldn’t get any worse, a dark storm cloud suddenly loomed overhead, gaining speed at a rapid pace. The show could not go on.
“RUN!!!!” Someone shouted as the dancers went scrambling for cover. The wind was picking up.
“Rain is coming! Rain is coming!” Everyone warned in panic. Most people hopped on their motorcycles and sped off. Becket and I suited up in our rain gear and cut our usual 7-minute ride home in half.
The timing in this sequence of events was comically ridiculous. The power outage, the silent five minutes of exercise which weren’t enough to even break a sweat, and the sudden onset of a storm when it was perfectly sunny just minutes before. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been a part of an event at site that had to bend to the will of the rain.
We are well into September and the aerobic dance classes are still going strong. P. Puum is kind enough to routinely buy a snack from the pop-up market for me, so it’s as if I get paid in kanoms. I always dance alongside my loyal 3rd grade sidekicks, Nong and Prince, who ask in class every Thursday if I’ll be going to dance after school. Becket continues to dance right there in the front row, supporting me even when I don’t completely know what I'm doing. If you tune in to the class’s Facebook livestream, you might catch a glimpse of us in action. My host mom, an SAO council member, recently joked that she “wasn’t tired yet” after the class. Looks like my next project as a volunteer will be making phase 2 of aerobic dance with longer and more advanced routines!
