Spirit Dancers of Irrawady
by R D Larson
Gar jerked awake, instantly knowing he had been transported. That crazy old Burmese shaman, Tet Ngo Phet Li, had done it. They had been sitting around trying to think of what they — just the two of them — could do to stop global warming. And they were just only considering it! Damn him! Old Tet had astrally projected Gar without his consent. Unfair!
Garrett could see he was in some sort of a thatched hut. He could tell it was late in the afternoon from the way the sunlight drifted in. He stood up, bending as he noted his tall frame would not fit.
Carved wooden spirit statues stood at one side of the hut. They weren’t large but their cruel faces scared Gar. As he tried to get his bearings, a beautiful woman came into the hut.
“You are here for the spirit dance, yes?” She asked him in English or maybe he just thought it was. Her make-up was very elaborate and dress was intricately woven. “You have come to make your prayer come true for earth? I am Nat-kadwa Annyo Phut Thet, the Spirit’s Wife.”
Gar nodded. If only he could do something! The old Burmese knew all the ancient rituals. Maybe — just maybe — it would work. Maybe he could stop the sea from heating, the oxygen from dissolving and the land from drowning.
“You will eat with us and we will dance for you while you make your sacrifice.” The beautiful woman had long lashes and a dusky yet sunny skin. Her lengthy arms and legs added to her grace. Her flowing gown was diaphanous and nearly revealed her body yet glittering beads shone at crucial areas. As his eyes feasted on her happy face, Gar became aware of a dull roar. It’s people chanting, he thought
“Come, Garret, you will eat with your new family and then you will be in the audience for the dance. Then, only then, you will join the dancers for a few minutes to make your sacrifice to save your planet, Earth, from global warming. We have knowledge and belief in all matters; have faith, Gar.” She laid her hand on his cheek. Her fingers were both cool and warm. Gar felt a wonder at the mysticism of the woman and the place.
Gar followed her out of the hut. She showed him a long table with other native peoples, sitting and eating. He was handed a drink and a bowl. Nat-kadwa Annyo Phut Thet introduced him. He milled shyly at the group. They smiled, then laughed and all of them talked at once to him.
Pointing to his plate, he raised his eyebrows. An old brown lady with flowers in her hair touched his arm and said, “It is to your liking, young man; it is pumpkin leaf soup with dried shrimps.”
Gar raised his bowl and drank of the rich yellow soup. Delicious. He sipped his drink which was a kind of hot wine that burned his throat and set fire to his belly. Soon, it was time for the Spirit Dance of Wishes.
The members of his table-family led him around the hut and he sat on the bench in front of the stage. The music began: melodious, sinuous and hypnotic with an under-beat like a living heart.
The spirit Wife moved from behind the curtain to the center. She stood poised and tall as she listened to the music. Then swaying and bending she undulated to the music. Slowly, like water torture, the spirit dancer led the audience with her into an increasingly frenetic and physical dance, with each person standing up from the bench.
When Nat-kadwa paused for a drink from a golden glass at the side, each member of the audience took a drink of the spicy wine. Small boys ran up and down the aisles filling glasses.
When the dance began again, it started as fast as it had stopped. The swaying and clapping of the people grew wilder as the woman slipped off her gown and danced in a sarong. Gar was surprised to realize the woman was truly a man.
Around her ankles and wrists, tiny bells were strung. He noticed a basket at her feet. His feet, he amended. As he watched a python slowly rose out, then its head began to sway to the heart beat of the music.
Gar was transfixed by the scene. As the dancer and the snake moved he became one with them. His body melted into the music and he danced up to the stage. As he approached the snake, its eyes glittered at him, much as the beads on the dancer’s sarong did.
Dishevelled and sweating, he dropped his shirt and stepped out of his sandals with a single movement. He joined the two on the stage as the rowdy crowd clapped harder and shouted to him. He began to writhe and twist his body around and behind the python, while the dancer’s hands moved fluidly around he and the snake.
The beat intensified until there was nothing but Gar, the python and the dancer. The music throbbed into the soft hot night air. The watchers caught their breath as the giant python wrapped Gar into its multiple coils.
Then as one they shouted, “Hei, Hei! A-me-lee-ka! Sacrifice! Sacrifice!”
Gar’s last thought as his breath left him was “My sacrifice.”
Copyright © 2006 by R D Larson
