Miles ended up bullying me into leaving my bed.

The afternoon brought with it a dancing lesson. One of many if I had my way.

We were treated to a demonstration before our three instructors (two understudies, one expert in golden trim) called for us to gather in rows. Three rows of seven each, I stuck to the outside with Miles directly behind me. Morgan had been spirited away by Qeha, the infatuated bitch, so I had Miles and, in some weird twist of fate, Josh. the stuck to Miles' side this time so I couldn't complain.

I barely caught snippets of conversation around me, focusing on the sand underfoot and the tide lapping at the beach. The class was organised on a wide stretch of beach with some hammocks and benches dotted along where sand gave way to dirt and green.

My garbs stood out like a sore thumb when most of the people in attendance wore yoga pants, leggings or (in 3 cases) very short shorts. They had to be budgie smugglers.

Demonstration gave way to a small fashion show.

“I am your first instructor, Podeep Baba,” The shortest but clearly the leader introduced and stepped up to address the class. “My assistants are newly graduated dancers and experienced performers for years now. Sina,” The woman with a long braid over her shoulder dipped her head. “Naomi,” The other lady flashed a playful grin. She was a lot lighter skinned than the other two.

Podeep baba sniffed, not as friendly. She didn't look older than late thirties or early forties. “I will say to you what I say to each of my students; many of you will not be worthy. I understand this is a novelty to most if not all but this is our culture, our heritage. A journey of our ancestors and the gifts Lady Luls’jah gave to us undeserving people.”

I caught a few whispers of offense from some more sensitive attendees. What did they expect? We were all here to experience something new and involved with the gorgeous surroundings.

Podeep Baba paced along the front now, then between the second. Her eagle eyes, a light shade of maple, pinned me under a heavy look. I counted five beats before she moved onto intimidate the next soul in line. “These will be very beginner friendly. I reserve the right to remove you if I catch any threatening, ridiculous or offensive behaviour. I will not extend second chances. Am I clear?”

We all echoed ‘Yes Podeep baba’ like a bunch of preps.

She went back to the front and her hands settled on her hips. “Sina, Naomi, starting positions of the Tuk tuk tuk.”

The two women stepped up to be level with the teacher. They each held their arms out and then folded one from over the other, a classic 'I dream of Jeanie’ pose without clasping their fingers over their elbows.

“Footwork,” Podeep baba called, pacing back and forth on the sand. Some attendees had mats or towels under them but I hated the idea. Why not embrace the extra challenge? I rolled my shoulders, then one ankle after the other. We all stretched beforehand and some showed off their flexibility by holding a leg high over their heads. Yoga enthusiasts or something like that.

Miles hadn't had a problem, Josh too. Though he'd always been more muscle and brawn with a steady base.

The lightness from earlier stuck because each bend and flex of my limbs felt smooth and soft.

Watching the two women demonstrating a sequence of simple poses and one dip.

“Where's the challenge?” One of the bendy showoffs muttered to her short-shorts friend. They shared a quiet nod.

Podeep baba stopped in front of the annoying pair. “As this lesson is only an hour long, I do not expect you to grasp the power and dedication this art demands. These basic movements are practised by our younger students two hours a day. It is vital to the craft that we do not just perform. We become the music and water. We become one with the moonrays. I doubt most of you could handle this lesson once we move onto the most revered tradition in Dir'dir life.”

After four run throughs of the Tuk Tuk Tuk, Podeep baba nodded. “Begin!”

To set the tempo, she picked up a little drum and held it under her arm. Slow, measured and hypnotic, we started the sequence. The dip in the second spin tripped half the class up. Podeep baba swept through the rows to verbally (and loudly) correct most holds and footwork with a disgusted curl of her thin lips. She tapped my elbow once, sparing me from any vicious commentary.

It got easier, natural by the fifth run through. The next twenty sped up and the spins sent my pulse thrumming with zapping satisfaction. My kindred spirit, our stern master of dance, had already ordered five to stop and take a break. This reminded me of swimming, easy, effortless and so, so fun.

“Thirty five repetitions,” Podeep baba called. “Rest now. Most of you, just as I expected. Drink and prepare for the next set.”

A few of the other tourists grumbled when they migrated over to the benches they'd dropped their bags on. I went over to the tide, Miles and Josh joining me. Ankle deep, I held my lovely shirts up out of the water and glanced between the two males on either side of me. Josh never had much skill in subtlety and the non-stop glances over my head to Miles? Obvious and embarrassing with how he pretended he wasn't doing it.

“I'm loving this,” I said to cut through the awkward silence. “And don't worry, I won't drag youse to the next one. Even though this is one of the best things I've ever done.”

Miles chuckled, bumping his shoulder against mine. “You were pretty good. You've always been very fluid and smooth when you dance at home. Always a surprise when you are as subtle as a cannonball.”

“I'll take that as a compliment, thanks,” I sniffed and waded deeper until my knees cooled with the slow current. “Podeep baba is amazing, huh? I aspire to be as sharp as she is! Those women were shaking in their thongs.”

Josh snorted. “You're already terrifying as it is, Nee. But the teacher is very intimidating. It took all my crushed confidence not to crumple like a paper bag.”

Miles (not as obvious about it) glanced at him.

“Return to your positions, please,” Sina called over the rumble of conversation. “It is time to continue the lesson.”

The water barely splashed when I power walked out of the salty water.

One (lucky and very amazing) quirk of mine would be that sand didn't stick stick to me after swimming sessions. I grew up with horror stories of sharks, blue ringed octopuses and rays when Josh and I went with the Lynch's to their beach trips. The two supervising adults had it easy with Miles and Josh, even Morgan. It was me that gave them the most grey hairs with how obsessed I'd been, diving headfirst into the ocean.

Naomi took centre while her teacher turned her nose up. A friendlier face seemed to settle my fellow tourists.

She talked about the origins of the dance we'd be learning, that the arms and hips moved in tandem to echo the waves. The traditional spins and hip movements were mesmerising to look at as she dressed in beautiful lilac fabric that flowed with each deceptively simple set.

“And now, you'll be doing that, with tukyim.”

The 'tukyim’ were stacked neatly on a woven grass panel laid flat on the sand. She and Sina handed out the moulded bowls, Cautioning the people as they went to wait for the water. One by one, we lined up with the tukyim in both hands. They were wider than my head and a hefty weight, leaving a few of the other students struggling. “How do we carry these and somehow dance at the same time?” A short woman with dark hair piled up into a messy bun asked, holding a smaller bowl but no less solid.

Every person stepping up to Podeep baba and the deep barrel of water got treated to a glower of contempt and wordless disapproval.

The one to ask the question squeaked when she held out her bowl. The ladle dipped twice, filling it halfway. The student hobbled off. Three more nervous people ahead of me, I held the bowl out with a hand under it, in that deep dip on the bottom. She let out the first sound not a sour grumble. A considering hum. The water trickled in, one ladle at a time.

Josh and Miles got silence but no sneer. I had to stop myself from skipping back into my row.

Water distributed, Podeep baba came back to stand front and centre.

“The tukyim is an ancient tradition of ors. We learned directly from the bosom of Lady Lulsjah, nurtured her gift. Now, it's a novelty for people such as you,” She trailed off. “Begin by kneeling.”

Her assistants held their own, more ornate tukyim in both hands and knelt to show us. Bowed head, straight back and cradling the bowl to their belly.

We all tried to copy, sinking knees into sand.

“To thank our lady for her favour and teachings, we first offer our prayers. for the purpose of this exercise, pray to whatever deity you worship.”

I shut my eyes, considering the many deities we'd hear about in school and media.

My mind drifted to the moonrays from the first evening here. If they were the work of their Lady goddess, I had her to thank for first seeing my new friend. 'Please, Lady Lulsjah, protect that gentle giant and let me meet him again. I want to tease him some more and feed him lots of fish and crab. I want to know his name.’

It had to be as cute as he was, just as sweet too.

“Stand now, luki,” Podeep baba said from where she glided past me. “Your prayer has been heard.”

I smiled and raised the bowl up until the bottom hovered my head. It curved inwards to form a shallow dip, perfect to rest on the top of your scalp.

Naomi fleshed a wide grin our way, dazzling some of the patrons. Sina stayed ready in position, head raised to watch us.

“Now that we all have our prayers and tuk'yim, we will begin with the movements we just practised.”

She nodded to Podeep baba. The teacher’s new smirk didn't bode well for the struggling students. "You are already in your starting position. From here, you will put one foot out and use your hips. It is a very soft swivel as Sina and Naomi will demonstrate.”

They made it look effortless and if the class had thought spinning combinations were hard (on sand!), this was a whole other level.

 I cocked my hip out as she did, then alternated the other.

While the others were getting the hang of it, Podeep baba gestured to Sina. “ To begin, we will put our tukyim on our head before rising from the kneeling position. Children will learn the variation, holding it above their head until they are standing.”

That made sense, getting them used to the weight without straining their necks from the word go.

A couple minutes later, she called for us to begin. Her drum at the ready, she tapped out the beat. “One, two, three, four,” She called.

The tukyim were placed on our heads once we stood up straight and I let my arms fall into a comfortable placement behind my back when the fifth step came along. I shut my eyes.

The moon still hadn't risen but the sun had begun to lower over the sealine.

I let out a soft sigh and followed through every stance the the instructor called out.

I opened my eyes and raised my arms, straightening my back and flexing my shoulder blades.

Naomi went around, correcting poses and the transition from one step to another. She got a few splashes of water when tukyims toppled.

My legs slid apart and feet moved until I shifted to the left, my shoulders rolling slow and steady. The hip movements started when a soft drum picked up, a small CD player sitting on the bench behind Podeep baba. The instructor wove around us. Those who dropped their tukyim ( 17 out of our 21) were told to put the empty bowls back and keep going.

Naomi threw me a passing glance before passing to help someone else.

As the beat got louder, more insistent, more than half had to drop their bowls. Twists and hip rolls got heavier, more energetic. By the time the thirtieth and fastest iteration of the set finished, only two of us hadn't been corrected beyond an arm angle. The other woman wore a bindi and a pretty green tunic and pants combination. The red mark in her hair line made it clear she was Hindu if her clear blown skin didn't. Two others still had water in their bowls long with us, though half had spilled.

Podeep baba called for the end of the exercises and carried the drum over to the tide. “Line up and we will empty the water back into the source.”

Everyone trooped up to the front to hand over their bowls with hair and sweat plastered to them faces and skin. I hung back, cradling the bowl in my arms. “Uh, is this what should happen?” I asked Miles as Josh grabbed his tukyim and carried the two.

Miles dipped his finger into the water, pursing his lips. “We can rule out bird excrement. It doesn't have a particular scent either. The water from our bowls is still clear and direct from the lagoon. Yours doesn't make sense.”

“She's just special,” Josh said, leaning over to peek. “At least we don't have to worry about glass shards all over the place.”

For the first time in a year, I got to watch Miles automatically elbow Josh and flap his hand in his face. Deep in Mile's brainy haze, he shed some of his nerves. Muttering under his breath, he took his own bowl and tipped it this way and that. “Bizarre,” He mumbled and rubbed at his forehead. “I'll have to read up, maybe ask if there's a public library around here.”

“We'll lose you for most of the trip here if you find one,” I teased. “Let's get an early dinner. Maybe Morgan will take a break from trying to get in that guy's pants.”

We waited another two minutes for a frustrating, lond woman to finally leave after asking all sorts of questions.

Podeep baba frowned as Miles and Josh went first, grunting as their water joined the rest.

I handed my tukyim up last and waited for her unflattering verdict.

The pearly white liquid swirling around got the first genuine emotion from her, shock. Her assistants ducked their heads together, firing off rapid words in the local dialect. It'd be just my luck if I managed to offend them before the end of my first week here.

“That's not supposed to happen, is it?” I asked to break the uncomfortable silence, gnawing on my bottom lip.

Podeep shot Sina and Naomi a quelling glare and turned back to us. “No... may I...?”

I nodded and she quickly poured the water into a wooden cup and then a long coconut shell. She sealed them with some cloth and twine.

“So, it's not bird poop or something?” I asked.

“No. This is good water. Would you consent to me giving this to the Elders? They can verify the purity,” She said and sniffed the remnants in the bowl.

Relieved that it was out of my hands, I fell back a step to bump into Miles' shoulder. “Sure. And thank you for the amazing lesson,” I smiled. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ meant I didn't have to ponder the bowl thing.