Tumbleweed in a Capricious Dust Storm

The government of Liberia in partnership with UNMIL welcomed dozens of traditional dancers and acrobats from West Africa for a day of unity and peace. At first I thought this would be some clichéd tourist trap complete with women in coconut bras and grass skirts, gyrating for camera- clicking Westerners. I was right, but only partly right. Women in simply- sewn blue skirts and t-shirts keep time with the talking drums. My well-meaning white friend watches along and asks; “why aren’t they wearing traditional costumes?” She expected the women in grass skirts and coconut bras to entice camera-clicking tourists with prurient cultural fantasies. “Just wait!” I exclaim. A motley crew of tribal country devils and masked dancers crowd the stage. Three dancers dressed like electric pastel Mr. Snuffleupaguses (if there are any multiple Sesame Street Big Bird pals hanging around!) pirouette and leap through the air, creating a trail of bright colors like a 1960s acid trip. They jump into the air with high capoeira style sweeping kicks, but before they can finish a masked male dancer twirling like a dervish enters. He appears weightless. His grass skirt sweeps the floor then takes off into flight. The several layers of his voluminous raffia skirt looks like tumbleweed caught in a capricious dust storm. Then the most spectacular dancer takes the stage wearing a full- body raffia suit and a three-foot tall ebony mask. The dancer doesn’t look human, but rather like a small air vortex carrying red dust and debris through the air—a dust devil. The huge ebony mask falls off and he loses his humanness. The spirit of the dry harmattan whirlwind becomes him. It blows off stage into the audience scattering the crowd like rice at Karma’s wedding. Cameras click for the fleeting moment of brilliant spirit possession. It isn’t frightening like it may seem, but beautifully captivating and elegant. This is Africa.