Just in Time for my Macarena

We all danced to the Macarena.

Yes, children of my generation boogied to the impeccable upbeat rhythm of Macarena with our shoe soles blinking like broken street lights with every jump, step and turn.

The terrifying voice blasted through the airwaves with tongue-twisting lyrics, “Dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena, Macarena Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria y cosa buena , dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena, Ehhhh, Macarena”. And my classmates and I loved chanting along, “One, little two, little three Macarena, hm hm hm hm buena hm aleya” mumbling until the line “Hey Macarena!”, eagerly waiting to practically shout as loud as our voice boxes could muster to the finale, “Ahay!”

Tired yet satisfied, beaming with a toothless smile, I ran to my Mom telling her how hard we practiced -- even overstating the morning P.E. exercise -- just to hear her say how proud she was of me while fixing the butterfly clip on my hair.

It took us about a month to know the Macarena steps. Our P.E. teacher acted like a jittery mother to a dotting Little Miss Philippines contestant. The kind of mother who teaches with exaggerated actions at the sidelines of the stage, unfortunately Miss Asuncion -- the P.E. teacher-- looked exactly like one.

I remember her saying “arms forward, palms down, right arm, left arm, turn arms over, right first then left, arms on shoulder, right hand on left shoulder, left on right, then hands on the back of head, right then left”. We danced all the way to the ultimate finish of a pelvic rotation at “Hey Macarena!” then a simultaneous jump with a 90-degree counterclockwise turn to start the whole mantra all over again.

The Macarena was popularized in the 90s which became a long-standing number one hit in the United States. In 1995, it later became a hit in the Philippines with the rise of the telenovela mania that started with sensual Miss Thalia in RPN9’s airing of Marimar.

But sadly, the millennium came and Macarena slowly succumbed to its fateful death. Another generation of dance hits conquered the dance floor, from the local television’s Sexbomb girls’ Spaghetti pababa with horrendous giling moves to Randy Jackson’s Best Dance Crew’s poker-faced Jabbawockeez hip dance rendition of Apologize. Finally, Macarena stood at its rightful place in the pedestal of has-been pop dances, along with Shalala and I’m a Barbie Girl.

I was one of the kids who danced to the Macarena only for P.E. and class assemblies while some danced to it on their prom night, with their puppy love, boy barkadas and girlfriends. But we all proudly relate to the Macarena craze because it is a pop culture of our generation – the has-been cool kids and the new young professionals, or yuppies.

I, as a first time yuppie, opted to use the Macarena as a key in developing my work relations. It was in my first gig at work did I have to face first day lunch blues in the office. With a bit of hi’s, hello’s and background checks, I learned to open up with nostalgic moments about my ultra-cool version of the Macarena moves. As if on cue, most of the least remarkable moments at that time but most memorable stories are remembered, like the only POG slammer I got from the Coca-cola promo, the Bazooka comics we all read while in the morning school service and the infamous “taympers” we all told our friends while playing “Fresh and Milk” in school. The day ended with us going to the nearest bar and grill to continue our drive down memory lane, dancing to the Macarena while at it.

So the dance did remind me of that time in my life I was allowed to make mistakes, have snot run down my nose and bruises all over my body without having to care. The best thing about is it became instrumental in turning colleagues to friends and allowing us to make fools of ourselves once in awhile.

And still today, even though I’m no longer frightened of the big voice of the Macarena man, I do tongue-twist when trying to learn Spanish, I jolt at the thought of changing street lights which are like my blinking shoe soles, because I lack the guts to drive and I get tired yet satisfied of taking aerobic dance classes. Lastly, I’d run to my Mom and overstate my stress just to hear her say how proud she is of me. It’s all just like the morning Macarena practices

It’s funny how old and new times keep coming back like an old mantra. It took me a month to learn the Macarena, it will take me a lifetime to forget it and gratefully in the comfort of my bedroom I turn the radio on and danced to the Macarena like there’s no tomorrow. Ahay!

Cheers!

Pau