The Circle of Happiness

Retired science teacher promotes Tibetan dancing for greater cultural understanding By Sudeshna Sarkar

For years, Li Guang taught computer science and management. Then two years before retirement, the burly, affable teacher decided to take a new step. He’s still teaching but no longer at the Yanshan Education Institute for Adults in southwest Beijing and no more computer science either.

Instead, the 62- year- old is teaching guozhuang, a traditional Tibetan dance also known as circle dancing.

Every morning, come rain or shine, Li is out of bed at 5 a.m. to get ready for his class that starts at 7.30 a.m. He chooses the day’s music with care—recorded Tibetan songs—and accompanied by his wife, Zhang Jian, heads for the nearby sprawling lush green park that is part of one of Beijing’s most famous tourist attractions, Tiantan or the Temple of Heaven.

When the Temple of Heaven was built in the 15th century for Emperor Yongle of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) to pray in splendor to the gods in the hope of a bountiful harvest, Tiantan Park was out of bounds for commoners. But now, anyone can stroll in after paying 15 yuan ($2.24) for a daily ticket.

Li’s growing group of dancers all have the yearly pass for parks in Beijing, for which others have to pay 200 yuan ($30) but they get it for half price since they are mostly retirees like Li. For those who are above 65, admission to the park is free.

A new dimension

“It’s a strange thing,” Li said. “In Tibetan communities, young people, mostly males, do the guozhuang. But in Beijing, where there are not many Tibetans and the dance is performed by retired people, most of whom are women.”

The little party enters Tiantan Park through its four gates and a 10-minute brisk walk along the rose bushes takes them to the spot they have marked as their own, a large circular area with leafy trees and plenty of benches. A cloth is spread at the foot of a tall tree where the dancers, who are mostly women, deposit their bags. Then they take out their dance costumes—Tibetan wraparound skirts with an embroidered border and sashes to be tied at the waist.

Some opt for the long flowing tunic called the baku or chuba, which is topped off by colorful headdresses and chunky jewelry.

Then the music starts and the dancing begins. The students dance in a circle, keeping a watchful eye on Li, who, resplendent in his short skirt and cowboy-like hat, shows the steps with effortless finesse while belting out instructions in time with the music.

The foot-tapping beats and the striking costumes are irresistible. Other park-goers stop their jogging or taichi to look. White-haired elders who have come for their morning constitutional lower themselves on the benches gratefully and watch while passersby fish out their phones to take photos or videos.

Originally, the guozhuang was a piece of stone used to support an iron pan or copper pot on a fire. Since people kept moving around the fire, that’s how the dance got its name. In 2006, the State Council, China’s cabinet, approved the inclusion of the dance in the national intangible cultural heritage directory.