The British choreographer Akram Khan is the son of Bengalese immigrants. Growing up in London, he faced cultural obstacles his entire life and pushes dancers to embrace unfamiliar customs and rhythms.

For "bahok", which means "carriers" in Bengali, Khan is attracted to the challenge of waiting for a flight. With a chest-pounding score by Nitin Sawhney and an electronic departure board as a focal point, he creates an airport gate. Trapped in that environment, his dancers have to figure out ways to survive the waiting, language barriers and prejudice.

Akram Khan's "bahok."

^{Courtesy photo}

The diverse and well-traveled audience at UC San Diego's Mandeville had just endured a long ticket line and a late start, so the hurry up and wait premise rang true. The work started off slowly with seven dancers slumped in chairs, but an intense tone grew until it rattled deep in one's bones. Uncomfortable and almost unbearable, the spell was broken by a dancer's personal story through movement or dialogue.

Khan's vocabulary taps into classical Indian, contemporary ballet, and hip-hop, and "bahok" is a collaboration with the National Ballet of China. The result is dynamic movement that is fluid and chiseled, ethereal and combative, all at the same time. My scribbled notes read, "acrobatic, jaw-dropping men and women. Mean roundhouse kicks, tight Kung Fu hip-hop. "Tall woman is fine ballerina. Man and woman become delicate four-armed bird. Soft hands flutter."

While the program did not include the dancer's names and biographies, my instincts and some sleuthing suggest the three women and four men are from lands such as South Africa, Slovakia, India, and Korea. They revealed personal stories and exciting cultural identities, and, by the end, we knew them all. Sections with dialogue were often comical, such as the charming Indian man blabbing on his cell phone. A vignette with a couple struggling to translate Korean and get through customs was impeccable. Other speaking parts were stilted and added little. Still, those and a few too many silent moments of staring were this production's only problem.

In full out dance sections, men and women were equally rough and tumble, solid in technique and exquisitely rehearsed. Especially thrilling were unison sections with hints of hip-hop in steps and structure, although Khan was careful not to rely on the single line of dancers coming forward. He also created beautiful floor patterns with action in corners and along diagonals. Lighting added more dramatic effect, particularly single spots that illuminated duets and solos. The changing departure board provided just the right transition and focal point for both the dancers and audience.

In the final group section, witty repetitive sequences echoed tribal celebrations and perfectly fit the score. And while the work is abstract, there was an inherent plot. Not unlike Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, these people just wanted to fit in and go home. The resolution was slightly contrived - the word HOME appeared on the giant board. Still, when they finally sat down and turned their backs to the audience, the emotional connection was profound. There was silence, the lights dimmed, and it felt like we had completed the journey too, a most compelling and memorable ride.