Mekala and Riem Esau
Most Cambodians know the traditional
stories of our country because, when they were children, they listened to
grown-ups, at home and at school, telling the familiar and well-loved tales. I
know many stories but I didn’t learn a single one of them by listening to
story-tellers. I learnt them by dancing. For half my life I was a member of the
Royal Cambodian Ballet. I learnt to dance the stories of our culture and,
through the dance, to pass ten on to others.
When I was seven years old, my aunt,
who was a dancer of the Royal Ballet in Phnom Penh, visited our family in Siem
Riep province. She told us that the Ballet was looking for girls to train as
dancers and asked if she could take me back with her to the capital.
Fortunately for me my parents agreed. I spent the next year at the Royal Palace
studying the classical dance of Cambodia.
There were ten of us recruits in the
class, all from Siem Riep province. I was one of the youngest and the oldest
would have been about fifteen. I loved my lessons. We did no normal school work
at all; our entire day was taken up with dancing. We’d start early in the
morning with gymnastics to warm us up and then we’d set about learning some of
the one hundred and sixty basic movements of the dance, going through the steps
and gestures again and again until we were perfect. After we’d mastered the
first one hundred movements we were allowed to learn some of the less important
roles for the dance dramas. It took us a whole year, working up to six hours each
day, to master the basics.
When we graduated we were told that
Prince Sihanouk wanted to start a branch of the Royal Ballet in Siem Riep at
the Angkor Wat, the ancient and famous city of temples. The new ballet company
would dance there for tourists and other visitors to Cambodia. The ten of us
and two teachers from Phnom Penh would recruit another twenty girls from Siem
Riep and teach them. We would be the new company
After I left for Phnom Penh with my
aunt I never lived at home again. At Angkor Wat the whole ballet company lived
and worked together in a hotel. One a month I rode a bicycle the seven kilometers
to my village to see my parents and brothers and sisters, but to tell the
truth, after a while I felt a bit awkward with my family. I had such bright,
lively company all day at Angkor Wat that the ballet group than I did at home.
Until I was twelve or thirteen I
went to school in the nearby town of Muk Neak and fitted in dancing practice
before and after school. His meant that I could play only minor roles in the
dances. Our company had thirty dancers but only fifteen would dance at a
performance. In this way we could take it in turns to play different roles and
there was always a replacement available if someone was sick. In the classical
dance of Cambodia, of course, all the dancers are female and we have to learn
to play and dace the roles of men, giants and monkeys, as well as the roles of
women and girls.
After I left school I danced
full-time. We’d begin at six o’clock in the morning and for one hour we’d
practice only the movements of the hands and legs. Then, after a light
breakfast, we’d go through the dance until twelve o’clock. On four nights a
week we gave a public performance which lased an hour from nine to ten. On
those nights we started to dress for the performance at three o’clock. It took
us six hours to dress because each time we performed we had to be sewn into our
costumes. They were so tight we couldn’t eat a thing and only take a few sips
of drink. After we’d danced for an hour, it took at least another hour to get
out of our costumes again. We had our second meal for the day then, between
eleven and twelve at night. You know, it’s funny, but when we were sewn into
our costumes we never felt hungry or thirsty. As soon as we’d undressed though
we were absolutely starving and couldn’t wait to eat. Looking back now, I don’t
think it was healthy to have such tight costumes and eat at strange hours. A
lot of girls suffered from stomach aches, including me. I haven’t had them since
I stopped dancing.
We always danced at night on a big
carpet in a floodlit courtyard of the Angkor Wat. The temple walls had
beautiful carvings of dancers from long ago and all of us in the ballet wanted
to prove that we could kook just as graceful as those performers frozen in the
stone. I lived just to dance. While you were dancing you were in another world,
you were someone else for the moment. I became the character I was dancing. If
I was a woman I was gentle and graceful. If I was a man I felt powerful and
strong.
In our group our ages varied from
eight years old to twenty-two. Everyone knew several. Roles but a star dancer
had to know every single one. In the end, I was a star, and I would like to
tell you the story of one of the dances I loved best – Mekala and Riem Esau. To
tell the story only takes a few minutes, but to dance it takes half an hour. A
story that is spoken leaves something to the listener’s imagination. But in the
dance you try to show the watcher everything that happened – how the characters
looked, how they felt. There’s more detail in a dance. I wish I had my friends
here so we could perform it for you.
Riem Esau was a young giant and
Mekala was a beautiful girl. Both of them went to study with a famous magician.
Their teacher promised that if they completed their studies successfully he
would give them two very special objects – an axe of unusual wood and metal and
a crystal ball. Both objects had great magical qualities but the crystal ball
was the more powerful of the two.
Both the boy and the girl studied
hard and were outstanding students. When they had learned all they could their
delighted teacher called hem to him and said, ‘You have both become fine
magicians and I am going to reward you as I promised. I am going to give the
axe to Riem Esau, are big and strong, so the axe, a symbol of strength, suits
you well, while you, Mekala. I have two reasons for making this choice. The
first one is that you, Riem Esau, are
Big and strong,
so the axe, a symbol of strength, suits you well, while you, Mekala, are a pure
and beautiful girl and the clear, bright ball, a symbol of light, suits you.
Secondly, you well, while you, Mekala, are a pure and beautiful girl and the
clear, bright ball, a symbol of light, suit you. Secondly, you, Riem Esau, are
very, very powerful so the axe will be enough for you. But you, Mekala, are not
as strong as Riem Esau so you will need the extra power the crystal ball will
give you. Now, take my gifts and return to your homes.’
Riem
Esau felt very unhappy with the magician’s decision. Why should Mekala, already
so beautiful, have the more beautiful object? And why should she, whose magic
was not as strong as his, be given extra power so that she could me his equal?
Riem Esau was jealous and resentful. He decided that, if the opportunity arose,
he would steal the ball from Mekala and leave her his axe in its place.
After
the two students left the magician to return to their homes, Riem Esau tried to
persuade Mekala to give the ball to him. She refused. When he tried to take it
from her she ran into the forest to hide. When he found her there she flew o
the heavens to look for safety among the gods and goddesses. Riem Esau followed
her and when he discovered where she was hiding he threw his axe at her to kill
her so that he could put an end to the chasing and get the ball for himself
once and for all. To defend herself Mekala hurled her bright, beautiful and
powerful crystal ball towards the flying axe. The two objects hit each other
with a great clash and sparks of light streaked everywhere. That noise and
light are what we know as thunder and lightning.
Riem Esau
wasn’t able to take the crystal ball from Mekala and although he tried many
times he was never successful. Whenever you hear thunder and see lightning you
will know that he is trying once again.
I loved dancing and I miss. Dancing
was my whole life. I started so young, I knew all the dances and I wanted
nothing more than to share what I knew with everyone. I haven’t danced for a long
time but I know that if only I could hear the music I could dance again. I hope
that one day you will be able to see unfold in gesture and movement the story
that I have told to you in words.
Told by
Mrs. Sovandeth
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