pandanggo sa ilaw

Nostalgia break!

So, how good is it to have this before you...

yummy crabs, just-rghtly salted eggs with
sliced fresh tomatoes, and steamed rice.

While you’re being entertained by amazing folk dancers...

Who are accompanied by an awesome bandurya ensemble (Filipino for an all-string band playing Pinoy folk songs)...

In the midst of a perfect setting...

In case you’re wondering where the Pandanggo sa Ilaw comes in, we were being feted out by the president of a university we visited in Bacolod, Philippines. (I was part of the entourage of a Cabinet Secretary.)

They really pulled all the stops and regaled us with a truly Filipino show of several folk dances,  Pandanggo sa Ilaw being one of them.

To my mind, this dance rivals the tinikling—wherein you dance over and across a pair of rhythmically banging bamboo poles—in difficulty and amazingness.

the tinikling--biggest threat to beautiful feet ever

Pandanggo sa Ilaw comes from the Spanish word “fandango”—a lively dance which Wikipedia says is usually accompanied by tambourines or castanets—and the Filipino phrase “sa ilaw”—which literally means “by light”.

This Pinoy folk dance is usually performed at night, in near pitch black, where you can only see the lights flickering in the dark and the silhouettes of the performers. The dancers have three lamps or glasses with candles as they go through their paces —one on the head and one on each hand.

The amazing is in the acrobatic choreography of the dance: you have to go through the dance's complex steps and finish it without dropping the lights.

On this Bacolod outing, the dancers were twisting and turning every which way just to display their mastery of the dance.

Pretty awesome, huh? Oh yeah, I've already said that.

At the end of the dance, I had the uncomfortable realization that I’ve been slackjawed the whole time the dancers were going through their unbelievable contortive routine. I could hear the snap of my teeth as I closed my mouth, heh.