Last night we had our first dance. I was very excited, because I knew that at a dance I wouldn't have to understand much, I would just have to move.
One of the girls in my house, Blanca, taught me some of their traditional dances and I went along with it, thinking that I wouldn't use them much. Then I taught her some of our line dances, the one from EFY, Cotton-Eyed Joe (is that really what it's called???) and the Electric Slide. That was fun...
So Blanca and I arrived to the dance kind of early, thinking that it had started at 4:30. I guess we were wrong. I didn't care though, I walked right into the middle of the dancefloor and started breaking out my white girl dance moves. Blanca was very embarassed, but I figured we would just start the dance.
About 15 minutes later they asked someone to say a prayer and then the dance REALLY begun. They started playing less American music and more mariachi band type schtuff. I went along with it and one boy that actually spoke decent English taught me a little of the dance (Salsa?).
This music and dancing continued for the rest of the evening. I stood to the side most of the time, because boys realized that I could not dance. I danced with two more tolerant boys, but the others...walked away. Yes, walked away. Oyve.
Still. I had fun. I drank water from a rusty drinking fountain. Got scolded by my roomate for my dress not completely covering my knees. Broke my zipper. Was walked home by a boy named Eduardo who didn't realize I didn't speak Spanish. And ate a sandwich with too much pepper on it. Overall, it was a successful evening. However, I am certainly nervous for the next dance. I may have to do some training.
I'm reminded of the dances we used to go to in Colombia and how uncomfortable it was at first. I just have to let you know though that I learned to LOVE salsa. And before you know it, it won't matter that they can only speak Spanish because you will be able to converse very well with them. Buena suerta at your next dance!
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