Linda

by Samantha Krausser (New Zealand)

Making a local connection Cambodia

Linda The skies dramatically opened up and the rain came instantly. Thick wet drops, soaking us through in a matter of seconds. The music from the speakers pointing out towards the narrow one-way street boomed with beats, song, and a crackle of static to follow. The orange Cambodian sun had disappeared minutes ago behind the three-story buildings leaving us with the luminescence of the yellow streetlights. I didn’t know a soul around me. However, this was quickly becoming irrelevant and as a traveler this feeling is one of excitement of the unknown. There were bodies, wet, dancing in all different motions to the music. I participated as the crowd of many became one body to the music on the street. As I moved to the beat, hands catching the rain and feeling slightly that I was in an Angelina Jolie movie I notice this little girl she looked to be maybe 12 a few feet away. A small circle was forming around her as she began to dance. In her hands she carried a large wicker basket that tied around her neck which was filled with colourful hemp bracelets for sale for two dollars apiece. Her large basket did not prove to be of burden to this young girl, she moved it around in sync with her feet. Moving, flowing, beautiful and empowering. The crowd grew as more and more people started to notice her incredible dancing. Her feet swept through the pools of rainwater in movements that looked like Mother Nature rained down specifically for her dance. There was a joiner in the middle of the circle, a young backpacker, maybe American who tried to compete. He moved his arms and legs trying to keep up. He lasted moments before both the crowd and he realized his dance was generic and awkward. The crowd cheered louder for her as he retreated into the masses. Her feet moving, her basket circling around while never dropping a single bracelet. Her eyes challenging anyone else to step into the circle while her dark hair soaked by the rain mirrored her dance, whipping around. The song ended the dancing ceased and I knew I had to go talk to this girl who held the power to take a crowd of hundreds of peoples’ attention in seconds. A moment later I see her, I walk over and introduce myself and tell her how blown away I was with her dancing. “Hi, my names Linda” the young girl says while shaking my hand firmly, “I wish I could stay longer but my mom says I have to be home by 8.” Her smile and look of determination stamped in my memory forever as she danced in front of the crowd that night. Her ability to turn her job selling bracelets into an experience of pure joy is a lesson I keep close to my heart. As we parted ways, Linda to go home for curfew and I to dry off, I knew this brief encounter with Linda changed me. Her soul was so strong that she found a way through dance to not be confined under the glass ceiling that is stained with poverty and politics of her country. She chose joy, and freedom in the circumstances she could not change.