Ha Noi (VNA) - Three years ago, Nguyen Phuong Mai, was wallowing in self pity, depressed and forlorn over the break up of a relationship in which her boyfriend eventually left her for another woman. However, her sojourn into an emotional abyss began to take a turn for the better when the Hanoian native discovered Salsa, the passionate and vibrant Latin-American dance known the world over for its highly charged sensuality.
“The loneliness and desolation that came to me during the evening made me dread going home early after work just to sit in my little room. I wanted to be tired so I could fall asleep as quickly as possible. That’s a major reason why I decided to join the Ha Noi Salsa Club,” said Mai.
“I think that it was the brightly-coloured space, the lively atmosphere and sense of comradery that I noticed at the club that really helped me shrug off some of the pressure I was feeling following my break-up,” she said.
Mai, 28, discovered that what began as a hobby and an excuse to get out of the house, would soon become one of her greatest pleasures. She also found that there were other young women in the club that had thrown off the shackles of conservatism and awkward stares of some Vietnamese to embrace the fiery dance.
“One of my older friends used to love classical dance, but around the time she was due to get married her whole point of view changed. Once hitched she was afraid that by dancing, people would think that she was a woman of ill repute. My friend also recommended that I should observe a certain code of conduct and finish with Salsa if I wanted to marry a Vietnamese man. I understand that she cares about me but if I did, I would be sacrificing one passion for another,” Mai said.
Even as little as a decade ago, most Vietnamese women saw their opportunities and freedom curtailed by the responsibilities of being good wives and mothers. But as the country continues to open up to the world, many women feel liberated from the old ideas that they often found personally restrictive.
There exist misconceptions by some Vietnamese, that dance halls are places where drugs are used and prostitutes ply their trade, that makes Salsa, with its infusion of informal dance styles rooted in the Caribbean, Latin America and North America, a wholly un-Vietnamese pastime.
Stereotypes such as these are eroding quickly however, women have greater access to higher education and increased opportunities to participate in the top echelons of politics, society and business. A recent study conducted by the Viet Nam Chamber of Commerce and Industry (VCCI) found that close to 21.5 percent of the country’s 180,000 businesses are either managed or owned by women. When compared to the Republic of Korea at three percent and Japan at five percent, it becomes evident that Vietnamese women are not curtailed by the Asian glass ceiling and opportunities for the country’s 44 million strong female population are there for the taking.
With the economy steamrolling towards middle income status, living standards and disposable income are on the rise and with them greater exposure to overseas travel and artistic, entertainment and leisure pursuits have been afforded to the country’s women.
“A typical Vietnamese woman is no longer one who only stays at home all day to take care of her husband and children. A modern woman should know how to care of her family and participate in social and artistic activities at the same time,” said Pham Huyen Trang, 23, owner of Inner Me, an online clothing retailer.
Trang began throwing herself into the fiery rhythms of Salsa just over a year and a half ago. She now dances between 2-3 times per week and is joining a belly dancing class to help her perfect her Salsa movements.
“Salsa is a highly-communal dance which serves as a good instrument for women to join social activities by meeting other Salsa dancers in the community,” she said.
In Viet Nam, there are still two schools of thought on the role of Vietnamese women. The first advocates the increased participation in social, political and economic arenas by women and the shared responsibility for childcare and housework by men.
The second supposes that women should be dependent on their husbands while they stay at home and look after the home and children. However, still to this day, whether they support the first or the second school of thought, to many Vietnamese people, the typical image of a Vietnamese woman is that of a girl wearing the traditional ao dai and definitely not one that wears a mini skirt with an exposed midriff while gyrating to Latin American beats in hotel nightclubs.
Although there still remains a broad streak of conservativism in the country, young women, particularly those in urban areas, are increasingly enjoying the freedom to decide on their own way to express themselves.
Phan Y Ly, a freelance Arts for Development consultant, teaches dance and is a local correspondent for Salsa Viet Nam and has won a small amount of local fame as the first Vietnamese Chevening scholar to do undertake a MA in Theatre and Media in Development in the UK. She is also the founder and art director of Same Stuff, an independent experimental theatre group.
One of her projects, “My Life, My View,” which won a grant from the World Bank, sees the 26 year-old guide underprivileged children on the banks of Ha Noi’s Red River to film and record themselves. Ly hopes that the programme will instil confidence in the children by encouraging them to see themselves and their immediate environment in a new light.
Ly, personifies the new breed of young, confident and dynamic Vietnamese women who take what they want without begging for their mother’s permission.
“I get a lot of emails from young people telling me they want to be like me . They say they want to do this and to do that but they cannot decide and don’t think they can follow their dreams. I always say to them, there is only one reason you can’t decide, you don’t dare to do what you want to do,” Ly said.-Enditem
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