Memories I’d rather forget: The Republic Day dance nightmare

Back in the Middle Ages when I was in primary school, today used to be very important, known, and “celebrated”, as Republic Day.

Although it was a public holiday, we would still go to school to celebrate our country breaking away from the British monarchy and the Commonwealth.

In the build up to the Republic Day festivities, we spent hours practicing volkspele – traditional Afrikaner folk dancing.

Back in those days, break time was spent on activities, like playing marbles, kicking rugby balls, and a game we used to call king sting, which involved trying to avoid getting a dozen tennis ball-size bruises on one’s body.

Of course, when nature provided, scaring the girls with grasshoppers or other goggas was also quite a fun activity.

As Republic Day approached, all our normal break activities were placed on hold, and instead we were coached in the art of folk dancing. Volkspele is a very unique way of dancing.

Unlike line dancing, or ballroom, or even just ordinary dancing, volkspele usually involved a large group of people forming circles and doing the most ridiculous hopping, skipping, and jumping moves while going round.

I can also recall that there was a clapping of hands, hooking elbows with your dance partner, and sometimes even spinning around like a top while some poor girl clung to your waist.

Every dance also somehow ended with the participants taking a bow, as if greeting some member of a royal family.

ALSO READ: Zandile Mafe’s bail appeal dismissed, but ‘it’s not over’, says his lawyer

All this was done to the beat of the most horrendous cacophony which cannot qualify as music in any culture.

On Republic Day, the boys all wore khaki outfits, with different coloured scarfs to distinguish the groups, while the girls wore knee-length dresses.

We performed our show on the rugby field, to a full pavilion of parents and grandparents, ending with the singing of the national anthem.

Thankfully, those were the days before video cameras, so the only record of my participation is in my mind. I hope to lose it sooner rather than later.