Choreographing Diplomacy: How Movements Unite Us

Movement. What does it mean? Walking from the kitchen to the living room? An elaborate dance choreography practiced relentlessly, expertly curated to perform on a big stage? Movement is a broad concept, hard to quantify, but it does have that crafty ability to connect people emotionally and bring them together. 

It had already been 6 months since I moved to Italy, leaving my friends, culture, and home behind, and most importantly, my passion, the one thing that’s always on my mind, be it before an exam, during a flight, or right before I sleep, Kathak. 

‘Katha kahe so kathak kahave’, Kathak is the dance of storytellers. It is an art form that stresses strong footwork, elaborate movement, and expressive body language. My escape and my love. Spinning around my living room, practicing footwork allowed the world around me to melt away. When I danced, it felt like it was just me, my Ghungroos, and the music. Not to be mistaken, I did not leave Kathak solely due to my move across continents. I left it during the COVID-19 pandemic, just before the move, because I discovered that I had lost the joy I felt when dancing. I lost that spark, that voice in my head telling me to constantly practice and pester my Guru to teach me more. The move became an excuse for it.

 I resented my newfound classmates for being unaware of the most important thing in my life. I resented them for not knowing what it was and what it meant to me, and my parents for not pushing me to continue. But most of all, I resented myself for leaving it behind and not having the courage to recognize how important it was to me. 

It was a windy February evening. I was taking a stroll in the quiet streets of Chieri. I dreaded the thought of returning to school the next day, not wishing to experience another mundane day with my outright ignorant classmates asking me if I speak Indian. I was sick of explaining to them that India was not the country just east of Russia, that it was a real place with diverse languages and rich culture beyond their narrow-minded imagination. Deep-down, I was being narrow-minded too. What did I really know of Italian culture anyways?

Suddenly I heard vibrant music from behind me. Given the usual tranquility of my neighborhood, my first thought was to run away, but something about the music invited me to stay still. I looked behind me only to see a procession of colorful floats and upbeat music rushing towards me. A quick Google search told me that it was Carnevale in Italy, a vibrant festival akin to the French Mardi Gras, celebrated preceding the Christian period of Lent. It is characterized by elaborate costumes, papier-mâché floats, masquerade balls, delicious food, music, and dancing, with each region in Italy adding its own unique flair to the celebrations. The floats passed me. I stood in awe, encapsulated by the colors and decorations. The lively music and festive mood was intoxicating, and I found myself subconsciously joining in. 

Although I was unaware at the time, they were doing the Monferrina dance, a lively couples dance in the 6/8 time featuring rhythmic stepping, hopping, and co-ordinating hand movements. Originated from the region of Montferrat in Piedmont, it is typically performed in rural festivals and heritage events, symbolizing local values such as harmony and cooperation. Despite not knowing any of the steps, I found myself dancing the night away, forgetting school, the shyness I had inhibited since my move, and the fear I had of restarting dancing. I found my spark again. I finally admitted how important dance was to me and how happy it made me feel. I re-discovered the joy I felt to just move, though I did not know the language of the song I was dancing to or any of the lyrics. I had never felt more connected to Italy or its people before. The neighbors I avoided, the café and bakery owners I could never speak to due to the language barrier, were all there with me, dancing to the same music at the same time, and I had the time of my life. I belonged. 

Not only did a traditional Italian dance, one I had frankly never heard of before, re-ignite my love for dance, it also brought me closer to my community in Chieri, one I had failed to connect with for the past 6 months of my life there. I learned to love Italy as my new home, deeply appreciating its rich culture, which despite being distinct from my own, connected me with Italians nonetheless.

Such is the ability of movement, the ability to bring communities together, the ability to connect people emotionally just by performing the same movement. It doesn’t have to be perfect, it doesn’t even have to be complicated; just the expression of emotions while moving is enough to surpass all barriers. It creates its own special language, one that can be understood by all, just by simply moving. 

It’s safe to say that this interaction of cultures additionally sparked my interest in global culture and the interactions between different art forms belonging to different countries, art forms that are distinct yet similar in their essence. Not only did this experience re-fuel my passion for dance but it also added to my budding interest in global affairs and the role art and culture play in them.