Cultural Enrichment

Today I had my first experience cultural enrichment -- dance lessons.

As I mentioned in yesterday´s post, I´m working hard in Spanish class. This morning we read and discussed an article from a local newspaper, read and translated a short comic strip, reviewed a chart of irregular verbs (who thought that up, anyway? Aren´t things in this world weird enough anyway without verbs having to be irregular, too? ). I also wrote a composition, listened to and translated a popular song, and did a fill-in-the-blank page of the same irregular verbs. So the pace is pretty rigorous, and we do a lot in a relatively short period of time. So today I was rewarded with a change of pace.

Punished is more like it. I will have to learn the Spanish word for klutz, because that´s exactly what I am on the dance floor. Somehow even the expression ¨two left feet¨ doesn´t fit. Maybe two left paws...two hind paws...

There were exactly three people in the upstairs classroom where we met for dance lessons in Merengue and Salsa: the Dominican guy who was the dance instructor (evidently also a language instructor) and two other American guys who looked as if they must be college students, or perhaps very recent college grads. These were not good odds in terms of finding a suitable partner.

The instructor began by demonstrating the steps, which sounds simple enough to any human being who knows the difference between right and left. But a dance step is a lot more than that -- if it weren´t the ´hokey pokey´ would rate as the most advanced example of human achievement in the art of dance. Can you guess that said dance step is my own highest achievement in dance? (I realize that for some the image of this writer ¨shake-ing it all around.¨ is, if not downright alarming, then at least humorous.)

At any rate, I tend to choke when an instructor in anything asserts, ¨This is really easy!¨ Wrong. So, before we had to deal with the awkwardness of choosing a partner, we had to learn the steps. To do so, the four of us stood in a line while Yulí, the instructor showed us, and Angela, my language instructor sat down to watch. It must have been quite a sight, as no sooner had we started than she broke into gales of hysterical laughter and had to leave the room. I guess the concept of building self-esteem as a pedagogical technique has yet to catch on here in the warmer climes...

I will admit that the idea of Merengue and Salsa dancing is quite easy. But being a klutz means that even one step forward, one step back is pretty advanced for my abilities, as I was thinking How far back? Should I keep my knees bent or straight? Weight forward or back? Move torso or keep it steady? Move arms, and if so, how far and in what direction? Oh look, Yuli seems to be snapping his fingers. Am I supposed to be doing that? Or is it just the instructor who is supposed to do that?

And, of course, the most important thought of all: This is fun? says who? If I wanted to be humiliated, I could do that in my native language...

When instruction in the twirling and whirling started, I stepped back. Good thing, too, because this is when the pairing off began. I didn´t quite catch the conversation between Yuli and the young American lad, but I think it was something to the effect of ´You be the woman,´ ´No, you be the woman...´

Later today we head to the Centro León, which is a local musesm. More my speed in the cultural enrichment department.