Oinkari Basque Dancers

By Amaya Oxarango-Ingram (Boise, Idaho USA) If these floorboards could talk…well they probably wouldn’t. They would probably prefer that you just kept dancing instead of engaging in idle chatter.

This isn’t the first generation of Oinkaris it has hosted for dance practice or performance…and hopefully the floor will last for another decade or so until it needs to be replaced. It creaks and flexes under the weight of so many feet. And the rhythmic poundings of kicks and twirls of the Oinkari Basque Dancers vibrate throughout the whole room, in celebration.
The walls are lined with tables and chairs – overflowing with Basque families and their friends.

A semicircle unconsciously begins to take shape as those who have come for the festivies leave a small space for the dancers to appear. Wine glasses and water are scattered intermittently between elbows of onlookers at surrounding tables. Children on their mother’s laps try to peer eagerly over their neighbor’s shoulders to catch a glimpse of the dancers. Some children slide under tables and peek out through the jungle of legs and tapping toes. The flash of red and black — the characteristic snapping of flying fingers of Basque Dances, cause a few little ones in my line of sight to giggle with delight, their eyes bright with admiration. Those in the audience who have been “pushed” to the back of the anxious crowd, find solace and companionship at the bar. I can’t help but think this is also a long-standing tradition.

The dancers skip onto the dance floor with, each with their arku or wooden hoop. KREEK,KRAK,KREEK,KRAK reverberates from the hoops as the dancers slap them together in mock combat… up and down…side to side…creating a primal beat. BAT, BI, HIRU, LAU… The crowd claps together with the beat of the arkus. Laughter and talking fill the air and warm it. There is no empty space.

I am able to pick out a few comments and conversations “ You see that kick?!? these old legs ache just watching it! Haha” or “ Jimmy used to play at all these dances…”

Mouth-watering aromas of Chorizo & Bacalau are drifting up the stairs from a dinner that was prepared just hours before in the Boise Euskaldunak’ basement, just under this busy dance floor. These mix with the somehow comforting hint of decades’ old cigarette and cigar smoke that lingers stubbornly in the upholstery or in the Basque Center’s walls. Although some things stay the same…some things do change . People now have to take their smokes outside.

Dan Ansotegui on his accordion, Sean Aucutt on his pandera and Miren Azpitarte on her albolka – they all strike up the music as the dancers prepare for the Arrateako Dantza eta Poriselda. Kicks and twirls…snaps and jumps…. the music takes one back to a time before even the oldest memories in the room can recall personally. The light layer of dust skirting the floor gives way to make room for arbarkak and espadrilles…leaving distinctly artistic trails on the floor for those who are able to look away from the Oinkaris fast moving feet long enough to catch a glimpse of the larger story playing out through the dance.

The Sheepherders Ball is a long-standing tradition with the Boise Basques. This gathering dates back to approximately 1929. Basque herders would come into town looking for companionship and those who could speak their native tongue. Basque women might attend the dances hoping to glimpse a suitable husband. Both men and women were expected “dress up” in the earlier days. The men in their “American” Denim Levis and the women in simple house dresses. The Basque use of the term “Ball” indicated that this dance was special. Today there is not a spoken dress code…but as amuma might say, “ You never know who you are going to meet at these things – you should look your best!”

The Sheepherders Ball is also very special for the Oinkari Taldea. 50 years ago this month, the Oinkaris made their debut performance at this event. Today the tradition continues by allowing all new members of the dance group to make their debut performance at the Ball.
It is my belief that even as the traditions of the Basque culture are being kept alive through events like this, every generation is redefining what it means “ to be Basque”. But some things never change. Instead of talking, these dance floors and walls echo the camaraderie of all those that danced, sang and clapped before us. Gora!

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