One of the poorest nations in Indochina, the only landlocked country in Southeast Asia, a socialist state with a painful history of foreign invasion and colonial occupation ― these may be the images of Laos known to most of us. Yet, Laos remains one of the most popular tourist destinations among European travelers. A land where time has stood still and where people have beautiful smiles, a country that embraces the Mekong River as the “Mother River,” and where the air is vibrant with the fragrance of tropical fruits all year round… Stories about Laos were strange and mysterious to me.

If it had not been for the festival, I would not have given much thought to those Laotian cities, the tourist city Luang Prabang and the country’s capital Vientiane. However, since performing our own music in the two cities, my heart has been buoyed by excitement. I can still feel the pounding of the hearts that were conveyed through our hands joined to sing and dance together. The laughter we shared while singing a Korean folk song with arms around one another’s shoulders still reverberate in my ears.

The Laotian New Year Festival

On April 12, we arrived at Luang Prabang, where the Pi Mai Festival was already on its way. I found the tropical heat hovering over 30 degrees Celsius and tall palm trees unfamiliar, but I my first impression of the city was friendly and unassuming. We were greeted by people from Asia today, a local newspaper, and Souphanouvong University.
We started our performance with gilnori, a kind of opening road parade featuring exciting music to gather spectators. “Gaenji-gaenji gaenji-gaegaen” “Deongdeong deongtta gungtta…” The pulsating rhythm of the folk percussion music, pungmul, Dressed in dazzling white costumes, Korean folk musicians playing instruments and walking zigzag as if they were dancing d quite an intriguing scene. Laotians as well as foreign tourists were amazed by the vibrant yet unfamiliar sound of music. They shouted “Hello!” and stopped taking pictures to mingle with us for a short while. Then they began to follow us, clapping and waving their hands. Trailed by a crowd of excited spectators we headed to an outdoor stage of the Luang Prabang Provincial Government’s Bureau of Cultural Affairs, where our performance began in earnest.

The opening scene was a shamanic ritual, accompanied by dynamic and inspiring music. “Boo~boo~boo~boo~” As the trumpets blared to signal the start of the show, the spectators watched attentively, their eyes shining with curiosity. They seemed to find the long white streamers attached to the dancers’ hats, twirled about by the dancers as they twisted and bobbed their heads, to be extremely delightful. They even laughed their heads off to watch the acrobatic bowl spinning added with comic gestures and jokes. The whole audience was mesmerized by the spellbound performance by the lead drummer. Then, the individual performances of various band members playing different musical instruments and a streamer dance featuring 12-feet-long streamers deftly twirled around the stage further added to the excitement of the audience.

Unity in Excitement

At the invitation of the dancers shouting, “Hey, everyone from around the world! Let’s all have fun together!” the spectators joined hands and soon formed a large circle. Under the guidance of the lead singer, they sang “Gang~gang~su~ul~lae,” dancing along with the rhythm. Moreover, the audience learned to exclaim “Eolssu!” as encouragement at the proper moments. It didn’t matter where they came from ― Asian or Western, blonde or dark-haired, young or old. The initial disharmony in movement didn’t last long; they somehow became one with the music ― and with one another. “Wow, so nice!” someone exclaimed. As the music turned to the rhythm for mask dance, the audience joined to emulate the motions of rolling up straw mats and playing a train game. Placing their hands on the shoulders of the one in front or clapping along to the music, they learned and enjoyed Korean folk games.

At last, it was time to present the highlight of our program, named dansimjul daedongnori, a traditional play similar to a maypole dance to strengthen community spirit. A dancer shouted: “Let the pole appear!” The spectators, who had already become of one mind through various activities, grabbed the colorful ribbons attached to the pole and began to weave them together according to instructions by the skillful dancers. The singers sing with lyrics chasing away all bad luck and evil spirits.

Finally, everyone looked at the pole with its beautifully woven ribbons, marveling at the wondrous work d by people from everywhere around the global village while simply playing together for a while. As the grand finale, “Arirang” was sung at a fast tempo, and dancers stamped their feet and leapt with joy. Then, the entire arena broke into dance. People laughed and laughed as if they couldn’t control themselves. Everyone shouted together at the top of their voice: “Sabaidee!” “Hello!” “Sok Di Pi Mai!” “Good luck to you!” “Khop Chai Deu!” “Thank you!” and “Gamsa hamnida!”

Is this the magic of the arts? Regardless of different languages, ethnic origins, nations, and cultures, people can share their joys and laugh together. There is no need for words. We can understand each other by simply mingling together and exchanging smiles. Knowing where I should go and where others would come from, considering and cooperating with one another, and finally sharing the beautiful outcome of joint endeavor ― isn’t this peace and genuine communication? I think the most meaningful outcome of the Keun Deul Art Center’s performances in Laos was that we had an opportunity to convey and share the spirit of traditional Korean culture with people from around the world.

Kim Hye-jung Program Director, Keun Deul Art Center