The Dance of the Eagles

With wings spanned open in deep stretch, the wind blows, and the eagle glides high through the sky. The ancestors wisdom is whispered in the wind. It is the essence that holds us up and lets us learn to fly. 

When one dances the sioux it is the moment when we transform from human into eagle. Hands roll and contort mimicking the flight of the wind. The feet slap the earth and pitter patter soft steps and quick bounces. And we fly. Round the mountains. Circling round the mountain peaks in search of sustenance. Watching over the world below. We are the queen of the sky… the king of up high.  

Every Penan person has grown up dancing the Sioux. When an outsider comes from afar and enters the village, as the sun sets and turns to a memory, everyone comes together and one by one, they all sioux. One by one, everyone transforms from human to eagle. And it is only when everyone has had their turn that the night is called to an end. The sioux is the dance for all. 

Like many young people, Sen had to leave his village and move to the city in search of work. But like many young people, his village is his home. And when the forest calls the sound of the sape sings songs on the wind. The sioux is remembered. And his heart flies as free as the eagle. 

The birds use to be our omens. We would follow them through the forest, and take their warning when warning was told. The eagle watches over and keeps order in the skies and on the forest floors. These are the songs sung in Sarawak. Freedom. As free as a bird…