Dance. The musicians jammed on guitar and avlos, bagpipe and tumbeleki. Their beat, the heartbeat of the island, the joy beat that moved feet and hearts. The bagpipe vibrating dancers to the core, the guitar finding people's song, and the avlos setting spirits to soar. This was no background to celebration, but its very essence.

Dance. Men formed a chain pounding out the patterns of time and nature; a napkin held within each hand, between each man. Some individual men would leap high and jump low, demonstrating grace and power while others cheered them on. Women sinuously undulated beneath layers of cloth, hinting at the potential beneath. Their arms waving like olive branches in the wind, and their voices ululating to the wind's soughing.

Dance. Together the people moved. Together each unique and rare, each a part of the flow, a single river of many currents pouring into an ocean of delight. Harmony, melody, rhythm. Dance.

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Copyright © 1998 Katherine Phelps