Category Archives: Kinesthetic

Body movements

Hospital Flower Taboo

SG: In Persian Culture you never, ever, ever ,ever, ever, bring black gifts or flowers or anything to a hospital patient. it’s considered an omen that the patient won’t be leaving the hospital. Its preferential to use blue or turquoise colors in order to ward off negative energy.

Context: She learned this from her Persian family members, and actually performed the occupational hazard herself and was reprimanded by her parents. From then on she has made sure to only gift and wear positively associated colors in hospitals.

Analysis: This occupational taboo reflects the high stakes environment of healthcare, where symbolic associations are treated with the same caution as physical symptoms. Superstition is intensified in such spaces, where the stakes of life and death are raised. People draw closer to death in such spaces and thus are more inclined to follow natural laws and folk beliefs in a last ditch effort to claim some sort of power over natural forces like death.

South African Folk Songs – “My Sarie Marais” & “Deur die Bos”

Collection date: 4/25/2026

Context:

My mom immigrated to California with her parents and two siblings from South Africa when she was four. They moved for work opportunities. Growing up, her family wanted to preserve their culture as much as possible. They learned Afrikaans (the primary language in South Africa) to use around the house, ate traditional foods, and learned some smaller customs. As she tells me, my family comes primarily from the Dutch Huguenots who settled in South Africa and are called Boers. Aside from passing the culture down to their kids, my family also made a point of teaching others. One way, mom told me about is how she and her family used to teach South African folk dances and songs to kids.

Text:

My mom and her siblings learned the children’s songs or “Boeremusiek” around the house from my Ouma (grandma) and Oupa (Grandpa) growing up, similar to “how most people might learn Patty Cake or Ring around a Rosy.” My Ouma organized the lessons and taught my mom and her siblings the basic dance moves to choreograph. Her siblings, who were older, already knew some of the dances because they were children’s playground dances they played back in school. To get people involved, they would invite friends, or people they knew through Cub Scouts, Girl Scouts, or other social communities.

My mom and her siblings borrow a room from the local community center and walk the kids through the dance moves. One of the moves she remembers is kids making arches with one another and then running through the middle, They would learn the moves to these dances for about a month then put on a performance once they were all ready for everyone’s parents. For the performance itself, my Oum (uncle) would play the accordion, and my Tannie (aunt) would play the recorder while my mom would sing the lyrics in Afrikaans.

Some of the lyrics as she remembers:

My Sarie Marais:

Unique melody for this song.

“My Sarie Marais is so ver van my af
Ek hoop haar weer te sien
Sy het in die wyk van die Mooirivier gewoon
Nog voor die oorlog het begin
O bring my terug na die ou Transvaal
Daar waar my Sarie woon
Daar onder in die mielies by die groen doring boom
Daar woon my Sarie Marais (2x)

Ek was so bang dat die Kaakies my sal vang
En ver oor die see sal voer”

Which she translated to:

“My Sarie Marais (Sarah Marie) is so far from me now
I hope to see her again
She lived on the shore of the Mooi river
Before this old war began
O bring me back to the old Transvaal
There where my Sarie lives
There under all the corn near the green tree with thorns
There lives my Sarie Maraie(2x)

I was so afraid, that the redcoats would catch me
and send me far away overseas”

She believes the song originates from the Boer wars of the 18th century as England was trying to colonize the land. The story of the song is from a prisoner of war longing for his girl being sent overseas as a prisoner of war. We looked up the lyrics for reference after and saw that the final two verses were cut from most versions. My mom suspects this is done to make the song more timeless, less sad and removed from the war.

Deur Die Bos

To the melody of London Bridge

“Janna Janna deur die bos
deur die bos
deur die bos
Mama kook mos lekker kos
lekker kos”

Which she translates to:

“Janna Janna through the bush
through the bush
through the bush
My mom does make good food,
she makes good food”

My mom imagines this is just a fun children’s song of kids playing in the woods convincing themselves to go back home because the food is tasty or they smell good food cooking back home. We tried looking this one up, but couldn’t really find much on it. Maybe not as much history behind this song as Sarie Marais, but still quite a fun song and it was definitely given more meaning being a representation of South African culture.

Analysis:

We had difficulty finding copies of Deur Die Bos online. This suggests that the folk song may have strong oral roots, but might not be recorded anywhere, especially not on an American folklore site. That makes the entry quite unique and valuable for me.

Although my mom and her siblings grew up learning and singing some of these folk songs in South Africa, the performances weren’t the same when they performed the same songs in California. The context, like the location and reason for the song’s performance, changed completely, changing the overall meaning of the performance under the ideas of performance theory. Back home, they were common children’s games, not much to look at; everyone knew them. But in California, the songs were a way to connect people and communicate identity. Because they were foreign, it was kind of like displaying new things in a museum to show what they’re about. The dances and songs were a way for my mom and her siblings to stay connected to their family history and culture. Alone, the dances might not seem like much, but they were part of larger family traditions carried to America that included speaking Afrikaans and eating traditional foods. My Ouma (grandma) and Oupa (grandpa) allowed their kids to adapt to much of American life. But they wanted to preserve aspects of their unique culture and traditions. By learning and performing these songs in America, they were able to hold on to and preserve those.

My mom said that she knew many friends who had immigrant parents and sometimes those traditions are lost or forgotten. Her mom taught the dances and shew grew up learning the songs from friends and family. She’s glad she learned the songs and played them with her siblings because being a first generation immigrant isn’t always easy. There are many pressures to fit in and forget about who you were of what your family is because it’s weird, unfamiliar or foreign. But the performances rejected that assimilation. They also were a way for her and her family to connect with each other. They didn’t really know any other South African families, so they had to be there for each other. The performances brought the family closer together by uniting everyone with a goal and identity. My mom thinks the dances were kind of silly looking back, but she’s glad she did it because small things like that made them a closer family.

The dance lessons also were a way for her family to share who they were to others. Especially when not many people knew about South Africa. Often, the few things Americans knew about South Africa wasn’t always positive. It was a very time where her and her parents had to navigate a complicated but generally negative global reputation. So, her family were in a way acting as diplomats to share what it really means to be South African. To humanize the culture and people beyond what the news might focus on. These folk music lessons were a small but impactful way to share that culture with others.

Kandi and PLUR

Age: 23

Date Collected: 4/27/2026

Context:

My roommate and good friend of three years is involved in the rave scene here in LA. He does operations for one of the largest hard techno organizations in California. He is mostly involved in the hard techno scene, but occasionally he goes to festivals and dub shows where passing out kandi bracelets (pronounced “candy”) is more popular. He showed me his collection of goodies he’s gotten in his 5 years raving, and these stood out to me.

Text:

Kandi bracelets are a great representation of the exciting and friendly rave scene. Kandi are handmade elastic bands made of colorful plastic pony beads, featuring fun messages, images, or small items tied to them. Some of them are quite complicated, including finger designs, while others are quite large and stretch up the arm. The most common, though, are simple bands with funny messages or jokes. My friend explained that “they’re connected to the dub, trance, and outdoor-festival communities.” You can see kandi passed around at mainstream shows like Tomorrowland, Lollapalooza, or Electric Daisy Carnival. Those festivals are during the day, when you can get away with lighter clothing and show off your kandi. People wear loose clothes with bright clothing to match the fun color of their kandis. My friend has gotten several kandi bands at Outside Lands, smaller Afro house shows, and other events with chill crowds. Its normal to give kandi to people you like or just feel a positive vibe from.

He mentioned that there’s a specific ritual to giving them away. The PLUR (Peace, Love, Unity, Respect) handshake is the way ravers exchange their kandi. He learned it from someone when they came up to him and gave one to him. He showed me holding up a peace sign, and I held up a peace sign to his hand. “To the beat, you dance around. Then you make half a heart shape.” I completed the heart for “love.” Now, you place your palms together his for “unity,” like a high five.” Finally, we interlocked fingers for “respect.” At that point, the initiating raver would pull one of their kandi bracelets from their arm, over their hands to their arm, all while their fingers are still interlaced. All this is done to the beat of the music, or in a fun flow state. Then you should pass one of your kandis over your arm to theirs. Then you can dance around and either part ways or make a new friend. But “you don’t need to actually give any back; people just want to give them out.” For example, my friend never brings kandi to shows; he doesn’t make them either, yet he has gotten around five from his time raving and has built up quite a collection. He doesn’t wear them to shows because, well, mostly they aren’t his style. But also because kandi bracelets are not common or popular at the shows he goes to. They are more associated with the mainstream EDM scene. He goes to underground techno shows, which are typically held at night and where kandi is far less common.

People trade them, give them away, and they are all made by hand independently. He doesn’t really remember who gave them to him; he was just enjoying the music. All the ones he has are very unique, and no two look really all that similar. He told me they’re all usually unique and like a fingerprint. Each artist has their own style. People try not to copy one another, and they all try to have unique ones so that you can remember that show or specific interaction. As you can see from the picture, they’re all made from relatively cheap beads and elastic string from Amazon or a craft store, yet each seems to have a unique bead pattern, color choice, and style. There’s one that says “sploinky” (no real meaning, just fun). Another says “xing”, which probably stands for crossing the threshold or barrier, and tripping. The final one says “cum bucket,” which was given to him by a girl. This highlights the ironic and really funny humor at these shows. There’s even one with a pacifier on it, which you can use if you’re grinding your teeth. Very practical. Another, pictured above, is pink and star-shaped and goes over the back of your palm. That one is great if you are wearing long sleeves or want a full sleeve of kandi.

Analysis:

Out of his collection, these stood out to me. I immediately thought of them as folk art and, more specifically, I think they are a perfect example of bricolage. They are made of mass-produced items recombined to create something new. These items aren’t meant to sell; they have no real monetary value. But, they do have sentimental value. One of their main purposes is to serve as a physical reminder of your great time at a show or of a new friend you made. Each Kandi is given new meaning based on the context in which it is given. They are also deeply rooted in the festival and mainstream EDM scenes, and associated with rave culture at large. To me, they’re instantly recognizable as a great folk element of that scene that was made by the people. A company, the festival organization, for instance, can’t profit from or poach these Kandi. They’re just beads and string. Any unique bead design could be made by a raver using a 3d printer at a public library. I don’t think it could really be commodified easily. There is also a paradox that something sentimental or valuable is made out of such cheap materials. It’s funny because it reminds me of a crappy macaroni plate a kid makes for their parent’s birthday. Each individual piece is worthless; even together, it isn’t that valuable. But to ravers, these are memories. They hold so much individual value because of the context in which they were given. If my friend gave me a Kandi just for fun or sold one to me, I probably wouldn’t care as much as if I had gotten my own at a show. So the context is the value, a company can’t easily replicate that or profit off of it, which ensures it is of the people and for them.

Aside from being a tangible record of interactions, they also serve as a way to build community. I mentioned that these are very common in the mainstream scene. They’re bright, colorful, fun, and inviting. They help create bonds between ravers and give people an opportunity to connect. This is especially important because at these venues, the music is very, very loud. People wear earplugs or AirPods to protect their hearing. That makes casual conversation and small talk really hard. So, the kandi gives you an easy way and a reason to approach a stranger who is part of your community. It is also very helpful in the mainstream scene, since new ravers or shy people might be uncomfortable. But if they’re given a Kandi, that be like inviting them into the fold. They could feel valued and seen and a member of the community which is really cool and helps keep the scene thriving and positive.

Aside from the purity of the folk art, the PLUR handshake is also a great example of how folk gestures are taught and learned in real time. He said he felt a little confused, but he got the idea pretty quickly. I had a similar experience. The PLUR gesture also highlights the friendly vibes that rave scenes go for. The acronym isn’t just for fun, its a code. To be part of that culture, you need to be peaceful, show others love and respect, and be unified. The community really does care about being respectful. To the shows I have personally been to with him, I’d say they were far more respectful than your average line at Walmart or Disneyland. The PLUR is a great acronym that effectively sums up the values and code of the rave scene into one fun gesture. Its a great way to teach new members and remind old ravers what’s important.

Never accept money with your left hand

Age: 23

MN: “I have Nigerian ancestry. My parents both immigrated from Nigeria at a young age, so they are, you know, American largely, but they also have their roots in Nigeria. I have many family, both there, and here. So we kind of kept a somewhat watered down version of Nigerian culture in our family for a while now. Um, I was told a lot when I was a kid or younger that I should not ever take money with my left hand. You know? If someone could be able to give me change or if I’m taking money from an adult for- for a gift, I won’t ever use my left hand to take it.”

Interviewer: “Who specifically would tell you?”

MN: “Uh, a parent, an older person, an aunt, an uncle, a grandma, would all say the same thing, have the same note. Like: ‘hey, don’t do that. That’s not good.’ Right? I never got a deep dive into why, but it was always kind of a, like, it’s not respectful. It also has some element of bad luck to it. Like, you know, it doesn’t bode well for you to take money or take things with your left hand, which, in a sense, is kind of like a more ‘evil’ or, you know? Unlucky. I think there’s a worldwide kind of culture against left-handedness in general. We have the same thing over in Nigeria, I guess. There was also, what was it? There was the… Um… pockets. Yeah, hands in pockets. That was more directly related to laziness and being seen as lazy. Like if you’re at home and, you know, you should be doing chores maybe, having hands in your pocket shows shows that you are- that you have free time. Those kind of had the same “correction” when I did those things, either taking money with the wrong hand or having my hands in my pockets. It always felt like ‘this is not good for you to do.’ So, I don’t know if they’re related in any way beyond that. But I’ve always had the same kind of like, It always had like, it always felt like those 2 things were kind of related. In a way.”

Context: As stated in the interview, the informant is Nigerian American, and grew up in the United States. During the interview, he stated that some Nigerian customs that his parents were taught may have been “watered down” the longer they have stayed in the United states. He still feels as though these customs have heavily influenced how he grew up, and he still practices many of them to this day.

Analysis: There is a strong cultural association with the idea of left and right equating to good and evil. This isn’t specific to Nigerian culture, and can be found across many cultures around the world. It’s interesting how multiple different cultures can develop similar folklore, and how those ideas can also vary depending on the family, location, or personal experiences of the person sharing those ideals. I believe this is a mix of family folklore and a folk belief/ superstition that accepting money with your left hand is “bad luck”. This also reinforces social norms, like what is considered polite and rude specifically within the informant’s family and within his overall Nigerian folk group.

The night-night celebration

Text:

The night-night celebration is a basketball celebration popularized by Golden State Warriors star, Stephen Curry. It occurs specifically during a “clutch moment”, usually when a player hits a three pointer during the final minutes of a close, competitive game. The player clasps their hands together and leans his head on his hands to act like he is going to bed, essentially mocking the other team that they should just go home and go to sleep, as his shot has put the game and opponents to sleep.

Context:

The informant is a 20 year old USC sophomore studying chemical engineering. He grew up in Sunnyvale, California, and is a lifelong fan of the Golden State Warriors and Stephen Curry. This celebration came up during our intramural basketbll game, when the informant hit a three pointer and did this gesture at the opposing team’s bench, who had been jeering all game from the sidelines. When asked about this celebration later on, the informant said that he saw his favorite player Stephen Curry doing this celebration during the 2022 playoffs, and thought the it was badass that the message of the celebration was telling the opposing team to just give up and accept their fate.

Analysis:

At its surface, it may be difficult to see the significance behind a simple celebration from a pro athlete. However, when considering this celebration’s virality during its first performance and the cult following Stephen Curry has, my informant and many others using this same gesture during their own competitions show how folklore performance isn’t limited to specific setting, but can be done authentically in any situation as long as it comes from the same folk group. On that note, beyond its surface purpose of mocking the opponent, this folkloric gesture also functions as a gesture of admiration for Stephen Curry, which is a trait only shared by the folk group of Stephen Curry fans. Hence, the celebration can also function as a marker for one’s membership in this group.