Habana!

Havana, Cuba, '08

My teacher invited me to a fiesta de los santos, a festival of the saints. I had no idea what to expect, but assumed it was some public affair. I met up with Eddie at the Rumba school. The school is literally a "hole in the wall." Upon entering, you find yourself in a maze of tiny abodes, each not much bigger than most American kitchens. Over your head clothing dries in the breeze and dark wrinkled faces peer out from each doorway. Eddie and few other musicians greet me warmly, with rough, smoky voices. They are all well built, wearing beaten up clothing. We collect the Cajon's, (wooden boxes played as percussion instruments in the Santoria rituals), and walk down the street through the crowds of tourists and locals. Children, dogs, chickens, prostitutes and policeman all add to the morning crowd. Music pours out of restaurant doors, and beggars sit in the sunshine trying to get the attention of any and all passers-by. This is Havana Vieja, "Old Havana", and it feels so alive.

I ask Eddie if the fiesta is public or private. He say's private, which makes me a little nervous. These Santoria (Cuba's majority religion) ceremonies are not usually something a stranger gets invited to, and when we get to the residence, I feel even more uncomfortable. It is a tiny apartment. The lady of the house, an enormous black woman, huffs and puffs as she shouts out orders to her husband and son, who are clearing the living room to make space for the musicians to play. A live white dove is hanging by it's feet above the doorway, awaiting sacrifice. The red velvet couch barely makes it out into the hallway, and neighbors offer advice, cigars, and rum in equal quantities. Waiting in the corner, I feel I stand out like a sore thumb. There is an air of excitement as we finally congregate in the tiny room, then things get started.

A distinguished looking old man comes in. He is skinny as a rail, dressed in a khaki suit and white shoes. He hands the lady of the house a small bottle of rose colored water, which she liberally splashes on her head and arms. The bottle is passed around and when it's my turn I follow suit. As candles are lit I am handed a cigar and some rum in a paper cup. I try to light the cigar with one of the candles, but one of the musicians rushes over and stops me. "These candles are sacred", he says, as he offers a lighter. Crap. I am already screwing things up. Maybe I will end up being sacrificed along with the dove....

As the musicians begin to play, more rum is passed around. Everyone spits out the first gulp onto the floor, an offering to the Orishas, the gods. Suddenly the old man starts to sing. "Aalaweliweli weliwaaaa." Everyone answers in perfect African harmony "Aaa-Aaa-Aaa." At first people are reserved, moving from side to side in time with the drumming. The song reaches a climax, and stops suddenly. No one applauds, and more Rum is passed around. The next song starts, this time more intense. The drummers start to improvise, their hands a blur. I have never seen drumming like this. Each musician is soloing, with wild, counter time rolls. It seems like chaos, but all fits together somehow. My insecurity begins to fade as we all start to dance. A woman begins to shake and writhe, doubled over and wracked with tremors. People around her gently support her, making sure she does not fall.

The party goes on for hours, and eventually it all ends. We bid a warm fare well to the household, then stumble out into the street, cigars, rum, and drums in hand.
I feel very at peace (and pretty drunk).
In retrospect, I love Cuba!
Vassili

Competing.

Competing.
(better late than never, so here goes...)

My Palm Springs competitions were successful, highly stressful, and in the end a gratifying experience. It’s one thing to dance locally, but as soon as you get out into the big world, things get scary fast. There are so many good dancers out there! I had a great time working with Espi. During part of the competition, I got paired up with Liz Rojas, from San Francisco’s Salsamanía. This was terrifying, considering she is one of the dancers in the world that I most look up to. Besides the fact that I almost dropped her and her shoe broke half way through our number, leaving us basically unable to dance, I think that part of the competition went ok. Sorry Liz, I’ll try not to break your shoe next time.
Note to self: Get your wardrobe ready in advance.

Um, let’s see… Last Sunday, we had our student competition and I did my best to structure it the same as competitions I have experienced. Just like the organizers of those competitions, I lost money and sleep, but in the end it was all very worth it. Watching people dance and shine (most of them competing for their first time) was a joy. The dancers did so well!
There are things that I will do differently next time, and I’m sure I’ll hear some complaints. But I did my best, with enormous amounts of help from Zyanya & Chantelle. I would like to make amateur competitions more of a mainstay in the Seattle salsa dance scene. Competitions push us out of our comfort zone, forcing us to squeeze practice and creativity into our busy life schedules.

I really believe that no matter how rigorous your work/career demands are, dance, art, and music MUST be present.

by Vassili

Why I love salsa. -Lydia

When I first fell in love with Salsa I had never danced in my life other than pirouettes around the living room as a child (and yes as an adult). Walking into a Salsa club in Nice, France (La Bodeguita) the music was infectious and the dancers were a community of energy. It seemed a loss cause me even grasping rhythms but 2 things helped me immensely. One was the live music and crowd that seemed to dance as one. The other was a women from Brazil who grabbed center stage and demonstrated the Samba and Salsa each night. Throughout the night she would then grab us girls who were trying to learn, line us up beside her and teach us footwork and movement in a energetic line. It was the first time in my life I understood what dancing and Salsa could be and felt my body loving it and surprise actually feeling the rhythm. It was also great to see girls soaking up each others energy and making the guys watch instead of lead for once. After spending a year and a half in France and mainly at La Bodeguita I was hooked and returned to the states determined to continue this passion. In some ways I did while in other ways I completely lost the passion and started going less and less. Since France I have been to many great Salsa clubs and met some fantastic Salsa dancers and finally teachers at Salsa Con Todo . The one thing I would still love to find is the energy at La Bodeguita created by a community of dancers and musicians feeding off each other. So in Seattle I think we need a venue that can create that and I think us girls need to get out there and practice our styling together.

By Lydia.

Salsa Vs. Tango

When I go out with friends and family and they ask, "What have you been up to lately?" I find myself pulling up a recording of saying the same thing I always do, "In school for Cosmetology, teaching Salsa full time and dancing Tango on the side." Then continues a series of questions as to, "Oh, how long have you been dancing?" or "Can I lose weight that way?" and, " Do you meet a lot of great guys?" (which that's a subject for a different blog, ‘Dating in the Dance scene, is it possible?’). However, the question I always seem to get hung up on is, "So, which do you like more, Salsa....or Tango?" I honestly cannot choose between the two, for they give me joy in two completely different ways.

For instance, I love the freedom of social etiquette in Salsa, being able to dance as many or as little songs as I want with a partner. There isn't the obligation to stay with one person for four whole songs. Salsa is lively, and sexy, where as Tango calls for more of a subdued, more reverent spirit, or as some of us like to call it, "The Tango Tragic." Your ability as a dancer isn't compromised in Salsa. You can still show that you're an advanced dancer even when paired up with someone who's only danced for a week. Where as in Tango, you really are only as good as your lead will allow, because of the constant close embrace. There are only moments in Tango where your individuality as a dancer is shown, and as a spectator if you're not paying attention, often, you'll miss it.

However, Salsa comes with its many flaws as well. First of all, you get sweaty a whole lot faster. If you don't want to be seen, you have to head to middle of the floor, because there isn't much rotating around the room. Even though your abilities as a dancer are not compromised, your safety is, because one bad prep for a multiple turn, and that's a pulled muscle, or a broken arm. Leads and Follows can be pretty sleazy, where as in Tango, that reverence of spirit tends create a more respectable lead (which refers back to my blog to come, ‘Dating in the dance scene, is it possible?’). Sometimes, when you're in a "Tango Tragic" mood, it's nice not to feel obligated to talk to others, you have the option to socialize or keep to yourself, where as in Salsa, if you're not socializing, you're not dancing either.

So you're asking yourself, "but that still doesn't answer which do you like more," and you're right, so my answer is always this: My commitment is to Salsa, but my love affair is with Tango, and neither the twain shall meet.

By Chantelle

What other dances do you enjoy? Can you compare them to Salsa, or are they just too different?

Salsa in Manhattan

Salsa on Sunday @ Dance Manhattan Studios.
All on-2 dancers.

Why do we dance? (And what happens when we don’t?)

Why do we dance? (And what happens when we don’t?)
Written: July 20, 2008

For me, this is an intensely philosophical question. Dancing defines many aspects of my life and beliefs, for me to answer why I dance would be to answer why I am… me. Plus, I don’t like philosophy. So I have always tended to avoid thinking too deeply into the reasons behind dance. I simply accept that I love to dance and that it is an incredibly important aspect of my life.

However, I recently returned from 3 months in Northern India on a UW study abroad program. I spent 10 weeks living in the rural, Lesser Himalaya and 2 weeks traveling. I learned a tremendous amount, adapted to a new culture, had incredible experiences, and made new friends. But there is no dancing in rural India. People are working all day, every day, to support themselves and their family. Only during festivals will the locals participate in folkloric dances. Only at weddings will you hear music being played. I was without Salsa or Tango. While my fellow group members were adapting to the new quantities of bugs in the bedrooms and digestive adjustments, I was trying to find someone to share my yearnings for dance with, even just to talk about it.

During those 3 months I did actually manage to find Salsa in the Himalayas, a story for another blog, but I never stopped missing dancing and the general presence of music around me. It was so quiet in those mountains.

In India I understood a little more of why I dance. I learned one thing in particular, that perhaps I have always known but never fully understood:

Dancing is addicting. I declare it fact. I went through all possible signs of withdrawal, as my days turned into weeks.

At first it was denial. I was unaware that I had gone “cold-turkey” by not dancing as I arrived in India. For the first week I didn’t listen to my music, I didn’t dance in my room. I didn’t even know I missed it. Then slowly the signs of addiction and withdrawal appeared: Irritability, anger, agitation, anxiety, depression, psychosis (seeing or hearing things that are not there [i.e.: hearing the 2-3 clave in the hammering of a carpenter]), lack of coordination, difficulty concentrating. Indeed, I did experience all of these in one (comical) way or another.

I even lost confidence. Some of my group members commented that they were excited to come out and watch me dance when we returned to the states, since I spoke of it so much. This made me anxious as I tried to imagine what I would look like. I was convinced I had forgotten everything and was never any good to begin with.

I dreamt of tango. I listened to the music and my heart would ache (although I think this always happens when I listen to tango music).

I had intense cravings to dance at random times during the day (it didn’t help when my professor would show us Bollywood films and we were expected to take notes on cultural indicators and all I wanted to do was join in with the dance scenes).

I would think: “Why have I done this to myself? I should have been more careful.” “I had no idea I was dancing so much at home.” “My classmates are all so much smarter than me to not be involved in dance.” “They aren’t missing it because they never got involved in the first place.” (vs. my thinking when I’m in Seattle: “These poor people who don’t dance, they don’t know what they are missing.”)

Eventually, however, I balanced my lifestyle in India. I invested my energy in my project with women’s health, in my classes, in the culture around me, and I took time to dance on my own a couple times each week. As the shock of not having someone to Tango with wore off, I began to appreciate the things I was missing. I realized what I had left behind…

For those whose who integrate dancing into their lifestyle, whether it be partaking in a partnership dance or dancing Ballet professionally, dancing provides a strong sense of community. Being a part of a dance community is not synonymous to your interactions with your colleagues at work or your friends at school. The community that forms around an art form and/or social-hobby is different. A passion shared by a group of people fosters a strong camaraderie that doesn’t rely on a close, personal connection with individuals. People will suggest that dancers are different in the way they interact because they have close physical interactions, as well as social. True. We cross many societal barriers when we dance face-to-face or hip-to-hip. But there is more than just physicality involved. I spent too much time in India trying to explain to myself why dancing salsa in my room alone felt so unsatisfying. I had a million reasons. But in reflection it was simply the absence of my community to share my dancing with. My roommate was good about putting up with my music and counting out-loud, but she still enjoyed comically imitating my basic and head-rolls (I don’t blame her, but I definitely didn’t feel supported in my efforts). I craved to pick out an outfit, go out, see my students, friends, leads, fellow follows, and dance.

But it was with Tango that I was completely hopeless. It truly takes (at least) two to tango. I eventually had to let tango go while I was in India. It’s a sad truth: Most long-distance relationships just don’t work out. I unchecked all tango songs on my iTunes playlist after about 4 weeks, it just hurt too much to listen. When I talked about dancing it was about Salsa, never Tango. When I practiced I never thought to drill my molinete or boleos, only the Salsa basic and spins.
I’m sorry Tango. It wasn’t you, it was me. I did it for the quality of my experience in India. Now that I am back dancing I can feel how I have neglected you. Salsa was easy to pick-up again, but with you, Tango, I’m struggling. I hope we find a way to reconnect over the summer, I miss you.

Seriously though, it has been amazing to return to dancing. I had the opportunity of spending my first 2 weeks back in the states in NY. I had my first real Salsa dance after 3 months on a dance floor with over 200 amazingly talented Salseros all dancing on-2. I don’t think I breathed from the second my first lead asked me to dance until the song ended, I was so intimidated. Dancing in NYC is another topic for another blog…

I miss India, especially my work there, but it is wonderful to be back. Salsa Con Todo is growing and I’m excited about returning to so many opportunities with the school. But mostly, it has been fantastic to see everyone again. Thank you to everyone for the warm welcomes and comments of “we missed you.” It means so much to me. I missed everyone and everything about dancing.

If you are interested in my India blog entries (they don’t concern dance) or my pictures you are welcome to check out these links:
http://zyanyakb.blogspot.com/
http://picasaweb.google.com/ZyanyaKB

Now I want to hear from you. What do you know you love about dancing? What would you miss the most if you had to leave it behind?

Post comments. Or even write your own entry and we’ll add it to the blog!
Email it to us: salsatodo@gmail.com

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