World Cultures And Youth: Serma's Mask (1980)

The dance of the demon. The demon is Rangda, queen of the witches. And the dancer is me. My name is Sarama Samandi I Gusti Ngurah. I'm 16 years old and I live on the island of Bali. My father's name is Anak Agung. He's 62 and is the head of our dance troop. He's my teacher in the ancient art of Balinese dance. Bali is part of Indonesia, a country of 13,000 islands in the Pacific Ocean near the equator. You can walk across Bali in one day. Our village, Saba, has only 300 people and almost everyone dances or plays music. People in Saba love my father's dancing, but now he is getting old. He says that soon he wants me to take over from him as lead dancer of our troop so he can concentrate fully on teaching young dancers. Balinese dance is It's combination of theater, history, our Hindu religion, and music. Many of the dances portray Hindu myths and are to teach as well as entertain. The Rangda dance is my favorite. And we're rehearsing it for a performance that our troop will give in 2 days at the cremation ceremony of a dance master who died last week. For many generations, dance and music have been part of our family. My father's teacher was his uncle Sagawakwi, a famous master. My dad's been dancing for 55 years. He started teaching me when I was 7, and I began performing when I was 11 years old. My father says that a great dancer can become the character that he dances. Then, every movement is precise, and the dance becomes the magic story that has been passed on in Bali for thousands of years. In Bali, we often use masks when we dance, and my father carved these himself. In a month, he will be giving his final performance, and he says that I must dance with him as is the tradition in our family. After which, I will become lead dancer. He says that now it's time for me to carve my own mask for that night when we will dance together. In Balinese dancing, all our movements must be strong and precise. Then the audience can feel the spirit of the dance. Teaching younger dancers helps me to notice little details and perfect my own dancing. My father says that teaching is the foundation of our traditions. And it feels good to pass on what my father has taught me. My father has decided that for his final performance, we will do a dance called the Prime Minister's dance. I think it's a perfect choice, for it tells the story of how a firm, compassionate leader passes on his skills to an able follower. My father is displeased. These new movements are still awkward for me. He's a kind man, but when it comes to dancing, he is very strict with his students. He says his leg has been bothering him more lately. In 2 weeks our troop is performing at the temple by the ocean. And he says I must take over from him then. I think he's worried that I won't be ready in time. Tomorrow morning is the cremation. And this afternoon we are going to Besakih, the mother temple of Bali, to make offerings for the master dancer who died. Our troop consists of nine dancers and 32 musicians and the gamelan orchestra. We dance all over Bali whenever we are invited. And at this cremation festival, we will dance until morning. In Bali, cremation is a joyous occasion with music and dance and artists that sell their handicrafts to tourists who come from all over the island. We feel that burning the body helps the spirit to go on its way to a higher, happier life. And in our myth, the white bull carries the spirit on its journey. It will take me a week to finish my mask, and it will be ready just in time. I must work very carefully to carve in character and feeling. Then the mask can help me find the true spirit of the dance. My father's friend, Mudario, is 78 years old and he's loved for reviving the Kecak monkey dance IN BALI. THE DANCE TELLS THE ANCIENT Hindu story of how the monkey god Hanuman rescues the goddess Sita from the demon king Ravana. My father is very pleased, but he says I'll have to work fast now. We'll be dancing together in 2 days. This will be our final rehearsal before our performance together tomorrow night. My father says he's still a little worried because my movements are not yet strong and sure. I know. It doesn't feel right. He says he knows I can do it. And I know too. He says I must go to a quiet place and try to find the spirit of the dance inside me. Then I will begin to perform like a master. I'm thinking Hello, my guy.