Fast forward many years later, when one December afternoon Dr. GCA tells me, "We're going to practice our Hawaiian dance at 5 pm, why don't you join us? Hawaiian is the theme for our hospital Christmas party this year." Huh was the only word I got in before GCA said the magic word, "We're going to wear grass skirts." It didn't take two seconds for me to jump right in. "Ay, moapil ko ana! I want to wear a grass skirt."
And so for the last two weeks, every evening after work, the second floor female consultants have been sweating it out at the Cunningham Hall, "perfecting" our Tahitian/Hawaii-Five-O, as well as our 'exit' steps. Even if our middle-aged bodies are a tad too stiff for the rigors of Tahitian shivers, we went at 'em with gusto and determination befitting our status as consultants and therefore leaders in things noble, healthful, not-naughty and nice.
I have to express my admiration for Dr. Anne Bernadas, our creative instructor and patient integrator of all the suggestions/critiques/bright ideas of her feisty dancers who are so used to giving orders they cannot help but want to "co-manage" the choreography as well.
This here below is My Grass Skirt, laid out on the grass on our front yard, hence the title of this post.
We are so excited to do our dance number at the SUMCFI Christmas Party at the SU Gym tomorrow. Now... if I can only remember exactly when to shake, bump, turn and pose!