13. SINGING, DANCING, ENTERTAINMENT

The following is a good description of a traditional jeg:

In a small clearing in the midst, or on the border of a dense jungle are gathered a hundred or more painted savages of both sexes; the moon sheds a soft light on all, while from each hut the lurid glare of a wood fire throws its fitful shadows across the scattered group; on one side, seated in a row, are the women who are to join in the refrain; on the other, in dark relief within their several huts, are seen the audience, many of whom assist in marking time by clapping their hands or by slapping the hollow between their outstretched legs with their open palms. In a conspicuous position stands the composer and conductor: with one foot in the pointed end of a sounding board (pukuta-yemnga), and supporting himself on a spear, bow or pole, he gives the time to the singers and dancers by kicking the board with the sole or the heel of the other foot; in this wearying duty he is from time to time relieved by one of his male friends and, occasionally, even by a woman. During the solo, which partakes of the character of a "recitative," all other voices are hushed, and the listeners remain motionless, but as soon as the signal is given for the refrain, a number of men emerge suddenly from the gloom surrounding the encampment, and rushing excitedly into the arena, perform their part with frantic energy, generally adding their voices to those of the women to swell the volume of sound. Save at the t'i-tolatnga ["shedding of tears", the dance at the end of a mourning period for a child], women only occasionally take a share in the dances, but their performances are considered by some foreigners as rather suggestive of impropriety - with what justice I am not prepared to say, for modesty, at least, is satisfied by the wearing of a larger leaf apron than usual.

Lt. Colebrooke's description of a dance he had observed in 1789 is the earliest known reliable description of such an event. He noted that the dancers formed a ring, alternatively kicking and slapping their buttocks, which is the Jarawa-style of dancing rather than that of the Great Andamanese.

Andamanese music has been tactfully described as follows:

To a stranger not gifted with a keen ear for music, there is at first a certain amount of attraction in the oft repeated cadence, but it must be confessed that, after a residence in the neighborhood of one of the homes, one learns to wish that their musical performances were characterized by a little more variety, and were rather less protracted, though some compensation may be found at night, as the steady continuance of the monotonous sounds has a most soothing and somniferous effect.

In their essentials, the dances of all Andamanese groups were clearly related. Most dances were done in a circle, only the peace-making dance of the Great Andamanese had the former enemy males facing each other in pairs. There were few rules for dancing, each participant doing more or less what he or she liked to do as regards the direction in which they moved or in the steps they used - but all had to be within the proper bounds of tradition. The most important point to be observed by dancers was the strict keeping to the rhythms.

The sexes did not dance together, not even during brief spontaneous outbursts of joy. In normal communal dances, the men danced, one man sang and the women provided the chorus or clapped the rhythm. There were a number of women-only dances that differed from those of the men. The women's dances all had some ritual significance and were not just social events. One was the dance at the end of the mourning period for a dead child: in Aka-Bea t'i-tolatnga, the "shedding of tears." While the women sang a song of farewell, the bereaved parents danced themselves into exhaustion. When the parents retired to their hut, the others, men and women, continued to dance for many more hours. The mourning dance did not differ from the normal dances performed at weddings or other occasions apart from the sad faces of the participants.

Dances differed somewhat between the northern and southern Great Andamanese while those of the Onge-Jarawa group differed still more. Among southern Great Andamanese tribes, a dancing woman remained at the same spot, knees flexed and alternately lifting her heels from the ground in time with the singing, which produced a slight swinging of the hips. After dancing a few movements on that spot, she moved a few steps to a new position and there repeated. The arms were swung in time to the music or crossed before the breasts. In the north, the women's dances more closely resembled those of the men; both sexes advanced across the ground in regular time. However, for women there was an extra little hop at every third step, giving the impression of a small curtsey. Every now and then a female dancer in the north also remained at the same spot for a moment, scraping one foot backward and then forward and swinging both arms together in time with the singing. Whether dancing or not, women did not sing other than in chorus with other women; there were no solo women singers.

Some dances were merely social events or expressions of personal happiness but most were more. Many had clearly important (though ill-understood) ritual and religious function, especially those that formed an integral part of initiation and other ceremonies. Most primitive cultures have dances in which participants represent supernatural beings. Such dances were rare in the Andamans but it is an open question if they had already been rare prior to 1858 or whether their disappearance had been brought about by the intrusion of the outside world. The following description of a religious dance in northern Great Andaman around 1907 was regarded by the observer as exceptional:

The performer was named Kobo. This man, according to the statements of the natives, had, at one time of his life, died and come back to life again. Owing to this fact he was endowed with special magical powers, and had some reputation as a magician and medicine-man (oko-jumu). During the time that he was dead (probably a few hours of unconsciousness), he is supposed to have visited the world of spirits, and while there he saw many things and learnt much about the spirits. Among other things he witnessed a dance in which the spirits and other supernatural beings took part. All these things he was able to remember when he returned to life.

The performance was given one afternoon on the ordinary dancing ground of the village. The performer sat on his haunches in a hut at one end of the dancing ground. Thrust into the back of his belt he wore a bunch of leaves sticking out somewhat after the manner of a cock's tail, but he had no other ornament. The spectators, consisting of men, women and children, were seated round the edge of the dancing ground, which had been swept clean. On one side sat a few women who acted as chorus. There was no sounding board.



The performer began to sing a song, composed on the model of the songs of the South Andaman (with a short refrain) which has now for some years been adopted by the Northern tribes in preference to their own. As he finished the song the women of the chorus took up the refrain, repeating it over and over again, and marking time by clapping their hands on their thighs. The performer came out of his hut and performed a dance. At a signal from him the chorus ceased and he returned to his hut. In this way he sang several songs, repeating each one several times, and performed a number of short dances. In nearly every case the step of the dance was some simple modification of the step in common use at an ordinary dance. Thus in one dance he danced very violently and pretended to hurt his leg through the violence of his dancing, making angry signs to the chorus to stop their clapping, of which, of course, they took no notice. In another dance he stopped at short intervals and violently scratched his sides and then doubled himself up with laughter. In yet another, he danced with the step of the women's dance, covering his face with his hands and pretending to be very bashful. In still another he stood on tiptoe on the right foot and stamped with his left foot in time to the chorus of women. In some of the dances he walked round the open space within the circle of spectators, sometimes in a crouching attitude and at other times in other attitudes. All these dances aroused great amusement amongst the spectators. It was unfortunately impossible for me to understand them all or to obtain an adequate explanation of them either at the time or later.