Skip to main content

Rock star at Folklorama


It's my favourite two weeks of summer and this folk dancing nerd is in her element. This year, I got to introduce some Toronto-relocated friends to the joy of the good-old hokey Winnipeg amateur-hour cultural spectacle that is Folklorama.

There was a little bit of extra excitement this year.

First of all, the usual at the Japanese pavilion. The feisty four-year old was inspired by the low-key armthrusts and choreographed fake fighting of the karate demonstration. (Sorry, folks, but Park's Tae kwon do academy puts on a much more impressive demonstration over at the Korean pavilion.) The eight-year-old was entranced by Hinedo Taiko's drumming, mirroring their movements on her lap. The game-store-manager young dad enthused over the connections to animé and Pokemon. It was a successful first pavilion.

It was enough culture for the littles, so we left them to go play in the park and headed off alone to the Punjabi pavilion with just enough time to catch the show. The opening song was already finishing up as we entered the room and grabbed some food (no line at all!).

The Punjabi pavilion shows what I love about Folklorama: the beautiful display of cultural pride delivered in an attitude of invitation. Albeit scripted, formulaic and somewhat predictable, the show and the whole pavilion program come off as a genuine attempt to share the beloved pieces of that culture with both those of the more mainstream, white, Canadian culture and also those from their own newcomer communities who still strongly identify with the cultural trappings from another location.

Another notable thing about the Punjabi pavilion which distinguishes its energy from the more static, nostalgic vibe of most of the European pavilions is the connection of the culture presented with the world today. They're doing ancient traditional steps developed by Punjabi farmers to bring celebration into their village life centuries ago...and they are doing them to the latest pop / dance-mix music on hit radio or playing in the clubs. We aren't rehashing a cultural moment from the past here but enjoying the energy of a culture expressing itself today, reshaping past traditions to fit current realities.



When the show ended, the coterie of politicians (e.g., Terry Duguid, Kevin Lamoureux) made their way on stage along with an energetic, debonair man in a crisp light blue cotton shirt and dress pants whose back was to the audience as he enthusiastically shook the hand of each person on stage.

I'm not a fan but my heart started racing.

The presence of a flock of RCMP who had suddenly appeared in each entrance and a few big bruiser type guys hanging close to the man on stage supported my suspicions. He finally turned around to feature in a group photo and confirmed my suspicions. Yes, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau had crashed the Punjabi pavilion.

It was like seeing a movie star. It was slightly thrilling to be in the room. He smiled effervescently and shook every hand offered to him, and beamed kindly into every camera that crowded around for a selfie.

Now there are many reasons to argue why the national leader shouldn't necessarily be the one who would win a popularity contest. One wants competence in leadership. But maybe the monarchies do know something we don't: that people want to be charmed by someone winsome, attractive and charismatic. Let the civil servants be competent, efficient, intelligent and discerning. Maybe what we need in the top national leader is someone we can admire, be a little bit in awe of: sort of like royalty.

Trudeau certainly hits that nail on the head (even being part of a political dynasty on both sides of the family). You can critique his political positions, his policy choices, even his excessive use of “um”s and “ah”s, but you must give the man credit for being a star. More than just charisma; he's completely approachable and unfailing warm in his interaction with the public. One can have a magnetic personality but not deign to give any time to the fans. Trudeau by contrast went around the whole room, accepting all the adulation and fawning with warmth. (He was also very succinct and kept it moving, after offering said moment of connection, he quickly moved on to the next transaction.) One might say he's an insecure person who laps up all the attention, but he whirled through this room in a cloud of positivity and generosity that felt inspiring, not pathetic; affirming, not demanding.

There are plenty of ways Canada falls short (immigration policies for one!) and is in desperate need of reform to serve its citizens better, but tonight – the whole Folklorama experience in general with the added bonus of Trudeau's little drop in – was a taste of what I love about this country.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My favourite nativity scene

“There’s no accounting for taste.” That’s my dad’s favourite way of explaining personal tastes that are incomprehensible to him, like living downtown, and riding bike in winter. The inexplicable factors which determine an individual’s likes or dislikes are probably the only way I can explain why my favourite nativity scene contains a horribly caricatured black magus, a random adoring child attired – to my fancy – like a Roma person, an old shepherd carrying some sort of blunderbuss. And a haloed holy family with an 18-month-old baby Jesus. This is the "Christmas Manger Set – the Christmas story in beautiful cut-out scenes and life-like figures." See how the 1940s-era family admires the realistic flourishes, like raw wood beams and straw protruding from the edge of the roofline; the rough, broken wood of the stalls; the tasselled camels; the richly dressed magi; the woolly sheep; the Bethlehemites on the path in the background, ostensibly out to get water, judging...

Upside down economics of Jesus: household action and global change

--Presented at a CAWG event in Altona -- In Living More with Less , Doris Janzen Longacre shares a story about envelopes from Marie Moyer, a missionary in India, who was studying Hindi with Panditji. Marie writes: “From his philosophic mind, which probed the meaning of events and circumstances, I learned more than Hindi.” Just before her teacher’s arrival one day before Christmas, she’d received and opened a pile of Christmas cards and discarded the envelopes as he walked in the room. She writes: “He sat down soberly and studied the situation, then he solemnly scolded me: ‘the reverberation of this wasteful act will be felt around the world’.” Marie was stunned. “What do you mean?” she asked him. “Those envelopes,” he said, pointing to the wastebasket. “You could write on the inside of them.” “Chagrined”, Marie apologized and rescued the envelopes with the help of Panditji, who “caressed each one” as he pulled it out of the garbage. This forever changed Marie’s relationship to p...

Broken people...

After reflecting with one coworker on how often churches in all their forms really mess up and hurt a whole bunch of people in the process -- and how "we gotta do better" -- I stumbled into another conversation with a coworker which highlighted our brokenness, and I suddenly realized what was wrong with my take in the first. I wanted the church to be better at fixing our mistakes, or better yet, at not making them in the first place. But maybe this "fix-it" attitude is partly the reason we keep blowing it again and again! My friend recollected an experience when a church community was in a terrible place: compounded mistakes, hurts, and frustrations had blown up, spewing pain all over all parties. (I'm sure anyone with a long history in the church can think of one, if not several, such occasions in their past.) A new Christian who observed all these goings on responded in an unexpected way. Instead of "you people are a bunch of screw-ups! How could this pos...