Sakela 2018

Sakela is a festival celebrated by the Rai people of Nepal. This festival is celebrated two times a year. Once during the Baisakh Purnima (which is the full moon during the months of April/May) and another during the full moon day of Mangsir (months of November/December). I am not a Rai but I am close to a few Rai people in Sydney and that's enough of an excuse to participate in this fabulous festivity.

Last time I had been a part of this festival, it was 4 years ago. I was new still in the city and I was awkward. I still am awkward but this time I was ready. I had never really paid attention to Sakela back home. I just knew that a bunch of people danced around something with the sounds of "Saye dhole saye, arko dhole khai". I don't even know what that means. Yet.

And last time I attended, I had even forgotten they danced. So before I could gather my bearings, people had already started dancing and while I was debating with myself whether I should join, the dance steps started to look very harder and harder. Also, the participants looked rather serious in their dancing. Some held the pom-pom looking thingys which suspiciously like they were made out of animal fur (and I'm sure they were), some held drums and some held cymbal-looking clangers.

So this time, even though I was given the job of one of the volunteers, I leapt at the first opportunity of joining the dancers. I was even dressed properly. My aunt (who's my dad's friend's wife really) is a real enthusiast. And I followed her blindly. There was this lady who was dancing with such devotion you would only watch with awe. I was very intimidated to be dancing ahead of her. I felt like an intruder at the beginning. For one, I was not a Rai, even though I looked like one; and secondly I couldn't follow the steps fast enough. But then, as time passed, I started to get the rhythm of it. And along came a guy who was more than happy to interpret what he was doing to the people around him and we gladly copied him. I knew I mucked up at many places, barging into people ahead of me and clogging up the procession by not moving fast enough. But then there were people who were worse dancers than I was. Obviously. I am not a hopeless dancer. And I can catch up with some patience. By the time the dance ended, we were all breathless but no-one seemed to be glad for it to be over. They did it again later in the twilight. I would too if I wasn't busy stuffing my face with the good festival food. I told my aunt about the devoted lady dancer, and she told me that she was the leader and that she was supposed to lead the group into the dance and also show everyone how it's done. So, I was right to be intimidated by her but also right to be following what she was doing after all.

We do it again in six months.