The Chronicles Of A Stubborn Filipina

She was 8. I met her while I was teaching 20 or so kids dance for an audition. We had no space and danced on the street. Streetdance literally on the streets.

A posse came and invited me to a “dance-off”. Teens, pre-teens..dark from the sun and had the stench of what I can only describe as poverty. There were around 10 of them. Bigger than me.

“Ano?Takot ka Ate?” (What?Are you scared,Big Sister?)

I didn’t know them and my dance students started “protecting” me the only way they know in the streets. Shout and push and start a fight. If I say no, I will never hear the end of it. All respect gone and the kids I teach will be bullied for a long time. Rule of the streets.

“Hindi,ha.” (No.) I say. “Sayaw tayo.” (Let’s dance)

Deep inside,I was saying to myself “Dear God,you’re 33. What the heck are you doing?” 

They pull out their “pambato” (representative). It was an 8 yr. old. wearing a red spaghetti top and red YMCA short. She was filthy,sweaty, had lines of dirt on her neck and armpits and had this angry look on her face. Her name was Candy Jane. She was the Pasig river dance talent champion they said. “Okay…she’s my daughter’s age.” I thought. I cringed.

“OOoohh…” I hear the growing crowd loudly jeer. I think there were a hundred now. They were watching us and my kids shoving and saying “Huwag niyong awayin si Ate Zarah!” (Don’t fight, Ate Zarah!”) My kids were smaller and I just said “Hindi. Sasayaw lang kami.” and I smile but my heart was beating fast. The big kids were pushing me hard.

“Space naman.” (We need space) I say. I still smile. And the music played. 

We danced. Poppin’ and lockin’ and sliding and turning. Challenging each other. All I remember was the crowd closing in and pushing you as it was your turn to dance. And the jeering and cheering as we danced. By this time,the crowd was thick and I felt like a fight was going to ensue if we didn’t stop. My kids,screaming “Huwag!” (No!) and the teens shouting “Wala! wala! boo!” (that’s nothing!boo!)

Then she jumps four feet and lands on a split on the gravel floor! Then she does it again!

“Huwag! baka mabali-an ka!” (Don’t! You’ll break something!”) My mother’s instincts came out and I was scared for her. The crowd just cheered her on. She does it again and it seemed like a freak show with people jeering at her. I felt sorry. 

I danced and did a cartwheel and ended with a round off and everyone cheered. “Ang galing mo.” (You’re good) I say to Candy Jane. “Salamat at naka sayaw tayo.” (Thank you and we got to dance).

I thank the older kids and I give Candy Jane a hug. “Alam ko. Ako pinaka magaling dito” (I know. I’m the best here) and smiles meekly. I don’t think she’s ever had a hug. i don’t know the last time she took a shower.

I went home after that. I sent Candy Jane a red hip hop jacket with white stripes the next time I went to the site.

Today I found out that the energetic,talented little girl died of Dengue this week. My heart aches. You will always be a dance champ, Candy Jane. Keep dancing in heaven.

* Footages of my kids dancing are on this video: http://stubbornfilipina.com/post/8068124529

My camera man stopped shooting when the dance off started. He was courting me that time and I think we was either amazed at the crazy girl he was with or preparing to protect me from the throng of people.