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O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, W.B. Yeats |
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The Dancing Girls Of Ajijic By Mark Sconce |
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An Ajijic mother glances at her daughter Seated beside her and smiles approvingly…
She looked to be of tender age, Her full attention on the stage; Her eyes transfixed by each plié: The Kirov troupe, the corps de ballet.
Cinderella’s foot slips into place; Pink ribbons substitute for lace, So she can pirouette and leap, En pointe her dancing dervish feet.
The curtain falls, the crowd erupts. The little girl, in hand with mamá, Walks, silent, home…
Before she went to bed that night, She clenched her cross, as in a trance, And prayed beneath a lambent light To Xochipilli, god of dance.
Leaping, soaring, arabesque, Striving to be statuesque. A butterfly emerging---free. A dream of endless filigree.
But other dreams are being dreamt By other girls in Ajijic-- Of other dances to attempt With native costumes, tried technique.
Dreams-- Ballet Folklorico! Pride---Jalisco, Mexico! Whimsies of a southern belle Whirling like a carousel.
Not just a sheer artistic whim, But whimsy nonetheless, A pre-Hispanic native hymn In vivid, multi-colored dress.
Dances of the Indio From every part of Mexico, Dances from the Yucatán, Oaxaca and Michoacán Chiapas and Quintana Roo Tabasco and Hidalgo too.
Her elegant and supple line, Her blur of charm, quicksilver curve, She sparkles like a summer wine, The joy of life, the life of verve.
Her flying skirts, black bouncing braids Submit to swirl and counter swirl Or stately, graceful promenades In makeup meant for masquerades.
And then there are the Latin dances, Well-known to girls of Ajijic, Forever sparking fresh romances, Forever dancing cheek to cheek.
The samba, rumba---ay, caramba! The mambo, tango---light fandango! Do-re-mi-fa---cha, cha, cha! cha, cha, cha! The salsa, merengue, y paso doble… Finally there’s the restaurant Manix, Home to expats and Hispanics, Who come to hear the music play And gladly dance the night away.
And there one night in Ajijic Two dancers charmed my soul--- Two little girls across the street, Two sisters I was told.
The one was eight, the other ten. I saw them there that night Across from Manix restaurant, A vision in the light.
While we all danced the night away, The music sounded fair; And on their roof across the way, Those sisters danced on air.
The rhythm and the rhyme of it, The tempo and the time of it, The lovely charm and chime of it,
The Dancing Girls of Ajijic, A joy to move my weary soul.
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
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