seemed to be the early stages of a social event involving the adolescent population of Krenke. On one side of the square a group of boys had gathered: in the main striplings, of about sixteen to perhaps eighteen. Opposite was a group of girls of similar age, perhaps a year or so younger. They chattered, laughed, made extravagant gestures, ran a few steps back and forth, creating a spectacle of gay spontaneity, meanwhile turning covert glances toward the boys, who for the most part were quiet, gazing shamelessly toward the girls.
Maloof and Myron, beguiled by the situation, seated themselves on a bench under a tall plumeria tree and waited to discover how the event would develop. As they watched, teams of young men using ground-marking equipment laid down sets of parallel lines to create a system of lanes about five feet wide running from side to side across the square. When the work was finished, the boys and girls at once spread out, each selecting a lane, sometimes backing away and going to another lane when they did not particularly approve of the person at the other end, running quickly back and forth. Meanwhile, at the end of the square a group of young men, apparently musicians, climbed to a low platform and busied themselves setting up their instruments. They wore special costumes of odd style and color: tight open-midriff shirts of fluorescent blue, expansive breeches, vermilion, lime green and black, ballooning out over the hips, tied at the knees, along with long pointed white shoes. Now they all donned grotesque vulpine masks, and were suddenly transformed into a cabal of minor devils.
Tension increased; the air seemed to tingle. The boys and girls began to jig and caper, tentatively at first but with ever more abandon. They jabbed the air with their fingers, jerked their thumbs to the side.
On the far platform the tympanist arranged a battery of chimes over the great bass drum, tested a hollow wood-block with a bamboo whisk, then stood at the ready. He waited. Silence across the square was profound. Raising his arm dramatically high, he struck down at his cylindrical gong. The other musicians were off and away, producing a sudden din of wails, quavers and random arpeggios, paced by a fateful booming of the great drum. The effect took Maloof and Myron by surprise; for some reason they had expected music more structured and melodic than what they now heard. They listened carefully.
“I have the answer!” said Myron. “We do not understand this music because it is too subtle for us.”
Maloof agreed. “No doubt you are right.”
The boys and girls at the open ends of lanes were reacting to the music with enthusiasm and stood jerking to the beat of the big drum, the most exuberant squirming and twisting, kicking forward, knees bent, then thrusting out with pointed toes. Myron noted that the girls had tied their skirts more or less tightly to their shoes, so as not to flaunt too much ankle, though the most audacious allowed a few provocative inches to flash in and out of sight.
The drum became more urgent; the kicking and prancing grew vehement; energies reached a critical level. At each end of a lane a boy and a girl broke free, advanced to meet, kicking, jigging, hands thrusting at hips. The two arrived at the center, jerked to a halt, shoulders squirming, hips twisting, then wheeling and bending, so that they bumped buttocks, after which each returned, jigging and jerking in triumph, along the way they had come.
The music continued as before, the great drum maintaining its thundering beat. Another pair broke free and repeated the routine, followed by two others.
Myron suddenly leaned forward and pointed. “Look yonder! The fourth girl along the line!”
“It is Buntje, cavorting with the best of them!”
“There she goes!” cried Myron, as Buntje set off along the lane, performing with no less energy than the others. The lanes were suddenly active, the participants each demonstrating his particular
Maloof and Myron, beguiled by the situation, seated themselves on a bench under a tall plumeria tree and waited to discover how the event would develop. As they watched, teams of young men using ground-marking equipment laid down sets of parallel lines to create a system of lanes about five feet wide running from side to side across the square. When the work was finished, the boys and girls at once spread out, each selecting a lane, sometimes backing away and going to another lane when they did not particularly approve of the person at the other end, running quickly back and forth. Meanwhile, at the end of the square a group of young men, apparently musicians, climbed to a low platform and busied themselves setting up their instruments. They wore special costumes of odd style and color: tight open-midriff shirts of fluorescent blue, expansive breeches, vermilion, lime green and black, ballooning out over the hips, tied at the knees, along with long pointed white shoes. Now they all donned grotesque vulpine masks, and were suddenly transformed into a cabal of minor devils.
Tension increased; the air seemed to tingle. The boys and girls began to jig and caper, tentatively at first but with ever more abandon. They jabbed the air with their fingers, jerked their thumbs to the side.
On the far platform the tympanist arranged a battery of chimes over the great bass drum, tested a hollow wood-block with a bamboo whisk, then stood at the ready. He waited. Silence across the square was profound. Raising his arm dramatically high, he struck down at his cylindrical gong. The other musicians were off and away, producing a sudden din of wails, quavers and random arpeggios, paced by a fateful booming of the great drum. The effect took Maloof and Myron by surprise; for some reason they had expected music more structured and melodic than what they now heard. They listened carefully.
“I have the answer!” said Myron. “We do not understand this music because it is too subtle for us.”
Maloof agreed. “No doubt you are right.”
The boys and girls at the open ends of lanes were reacting to the music with enthusiasm and stood jerking to the beat of the big drum, the most exuberant squirming and twisting, kicking forward, knees bent, then thrusting out with pointed toes. Myron noted that the girls had tied their skirts more or less tightly to their shoes, so as not to flaunt too much ankle, though the most audacious allowed a few provocative inches to flash in and out of sight.
The drum became more urgent; the kicking and prancing grew vehement; energies reached a critical level. At each end of a lane a boy and a girl broke free, advanced to meet, kicking, jigging, hands thrusting at hips. The two arrived at the center, jerked to a halt, shoulders squirming, hips twisting, then wheeling and bending, so that they bumped buttocks, after which each returned, jigging and jerking in triumph, along the way they had come.
The music continued as before, the great drum maintaining its thundering beat. Another pair broke free and repeated the routine, followed by two others.
Myron suddenly leaned forward and pointed. “Look yonder! The fourth girl along the line!”
“It is Buntje, cavorting with the best of them!”
“There she goes!” cried Myron, as Buntje set off along the lane, performing with no less energy than the others. The lanes were suddenly active, the participants each demonstrating his particular
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