The Laugh Factor (in perfect harmony)

August 11, 2014

Boom. The class erupts.  Boom. The class erupts again. Boom, the class reverberates as the sound bounces from individual to individual, the reverberations feeding off and into each other.  What ignites this massive sound is a very simple action.  Just a twist, turn or wiggle of the body.  As the class of teaching students and I dive into simple drama activities, whenever abrupt or wild movement is called for, the class booms in laughter.

I find myself constantly fascinated by the phenomenon, which I have encountered in several places.  In these (mostly) island countries, people consistently show great support for each other.  The laughter oddly belies that, seeming to erupt almost as teasing of each other.  Which it is.  And isn’t. Simultaneously.  It’s almost as if the joy gained at the expense of another is a welcome joy, even by the target.  In fact, some thrive off of that energy that then encourages others.  And if it seems the laugh moment is about to end, inevitably someone calls for more!

What this portends is the comfort people here have in themselves and one another.  As conscious as some are about their physical selves and about displaying odd, unusual movement in public or in front of peers, these same folks most often relish the moments as well, going so far as to make fun of themselves, both their own physical shape and the movement they display.  It is quite an education for me to watch how comfortable people are with each other even as they laugh at the initial prompt and what they will have to do.  For example, someone leads a ‘Back to Back’ exercise and calls for the teaching students to connect ‘cheek to cheek’. BOOM.  And then an initial display of giggly awkwardness and then the task is done.  Just recently I watched as two older male teachers, while engaged in a walking activity, were instructed to demonstrate how two lovers would meet.  Without a moment’s hesitation, they hugged as two young lovers.  Now imagine that same moment in the US. With any two teachers, but especially older males.  What do you think the whole room would immediately imagine?  And what, do you imagine, would be the likelihood of those two completing that moment.  Honestly. Without any sarcasm. Or fear.

Such trust emanates from moments like these. Trust in each other. Trust in the group. Trust in the instructor. Trust in self, which most engages me.  The ability to laugh at one’s self, move past it quickly and engage fully in activities that may be outside of comfort zones, but apparently lie within joyous zones.

There exists a kind of natural harmony in the classes that welcomes all experiences.  Seemingly without judgment, but with a kind of ‘let’s see what’s possible here’ kind of attitude.

And speaking of harmony, I cannot end this writing without mentioning how incredibly lovely it is to work with a group of teachers who just naturally break into perfect harmony when singing a simple child’s song as a part of an activity.  Is it possible that perfect harmony arose because of an ability to work in perfect harmony with each other?