23.2.16

the skin of a woman

When I arrive the meeting is in full swing. It is possibly wrapping up, though African meetings are known to give several false starts to a final conclusion. Metaphors and analogies are flying faster and farther and settling deeper than an Olympic shot put. I resist the urge to take out my phone and make notes. One speaker has barely finished { a tale of how an artist's life is like a tiger's, for example- and it's purely a fictional example} before another one begins and says, " I want to just build on to what he (or she) said..." and then launches into a parable about how an artist's life is like an elephant's, by way of explaining. And bringing clarity to the discussion.

It is a behind the scenes glimpse at a dance company's meeting and preparation for the chance of their lifetimes. The message, whether tiger or elephant, is clear. An artist's life is hard and when opportunity comes, you must be prepared to fully grasp it. Fight for it. Don't let go.

The Company Mouaye are getting ready for the huge arts conference happening in Abidjan next month. MASA is an international arts festival in which artists from all genres have a chance to present their work to an audience of professionals in the field. It is their opportunity to network and get their name known in the business. It is also a chance for agents and talent scouts to discover the very best in entertainment. Performers are coming from all over West Africa and even beyond.

There is a seriousness and excitement to this meeting. The woman in charge has wound down her speech. She is giving direction about how to act during the dance workshop that is coming up (helpful advice for how to handle the ex-pat participants) as well as how to seize the opportunity that MASA presents. She hands the floor to an older gentleman.

He reiterates many of the same points. It is important to show your best face at MASA and to put forth your best talent. You must work as part of a group, he says, and that means believing in the spirit of the group. You can't stand off to the side with your back turned and still be part of the group. He says a hand must use all of it's fingers to function properly. You wouldn't put your foot down with just one toe and expect to be able to walk on it, he continues.

It is just as important to listen to your teammates. If they want to correct a movement or a sound, you need to listen. He doesn't say it like this really. Instead he says, "You must wear the skin of a woman, because a woman is a receiver. She is open. If you wear the skin of a man you will be stubborn and resist (the feedback you are given). You will search for war."

Later, as we are walking down the road, I mention that I loved this analogy the best. The two dancers I am with laugh at me for liking this one most. But I appreciate the suggestion that we all have both "skins" inside of us and we can change them according to need.

I thought back to times when I was feeling particularly stubborn or unable to hear a piece of advice. I saw myself in my "man skin-" controlling and insistent. And I thought of other times when I was able to conquer that and remain open and flexible. My "woman" skin prevailing.  It is another reminder that the genders are complimentary, not equal or unequal, but in balance. Yet another thing to strive for.