Age sits lightly on the shoulders of a group of women in the central Asian country of Tajikistan.

They've formed a singing and dancing group called "Bibi Jaan", or "Dear Grandmothers."

The youngest is 50, the oldest 80.

Their goal is to keep alive the village songs of their youth...and have a little fun in the process.

The World's Mary Kay Magistad sent us this story from the Tajik capital, Dushanbe.

----------------------------------------------------

In a courtyard, where a few dozen folding chairs are set up in front of a low stage, the women of Bibi Jaan are putting on their makeup, and their elaborate silk costumes. One woman is putting on a mustache and a turban. She plays a man in a musical skit the group will later perform. The senior member of the group is Sayura Yakubava, who's 80.

Sayura Yakubava

She says she used to be a history teacher, but discovered in her fifties that music was in her blood. She's been performing ever since, and she's even written some of her own lyrics.

This is about the joy of having friends, of having guests grace your home. Yakubava says, in the poor mountainous villages where most Tajiks live, that is one thing that gives richness to life. She excuses herself. It's showtime. The hosts introduce the women of Bibi Jaan in Tajik, in Russian, and in English.

Host: "All of them play music which comes from their soul, the music they would play for their grandchildren before they go to bed. So - we are honored to be their grandchildren tonight."

The women sit on the stage in a semi-circle. One taps a hand-held circular drum. Another - probably in her 70s - gets up and dances with a youthful grace, precision and pride. A third woman breaks into a raspy lament.

These women are not professionals - but they have toured all over Tajikistan, and have been featured in Tajik media. They've drawn a following, with the raw and authentic quality of their singing and the verve in their dancing.

The tempo picks up - and a beefy, jowly older woman transforms herself into a saucy temptress. She shimmies and wiggles and winks. The crowd is startled, but delighted. If some were expecting something different from a group called "Dear Grandmothers" - this reminder that you're only as old as you feel seems to have been more than worth the price of admission.

For The World, I'm Mary Kay Magistad, Dushanbe.