Subidas y Bajadas (Ups and Downs)

Last semester, I was so excited to arrive and see free salsa dancing lessons offered twice a week at my university in Guanajuato.  Unfortunately, they taught all the steps on Tuesdays, and reviewed the material on Wednesdays.  I had a class on Tuesday, and only made it through a few weeks of classes before I was caught too far behind and couldn’t continue.

At one point last semester, I went out with some other American girlies and hit up a famous salsa club in the center of Guanajuato.  I’d never tried salsa before, but I thought it’d be fun nonetheless.  Within a few minutes of arrival, while still taking in the modern decor and fancy lighting system, a young man asked me to dance.  “Well, okay,” I told him.  “Just beware that I’ve never danced salsa before, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He shook his head, laughing.  “Don’t worry about it!  It’s easy!  Just feel the music!”  As if “feeling” the music would make up for the fact that I had no idea what a basic salsa step even was.  I tried to trust him, but I ended up making a complete fool of myself, and with an expression of extreme confusion on my face all the while.  It was a terrible experience, and I vowed I would never go dancing in public again (putting on music in my bedroom and dancing by myself is another story) without proper lessons first.

This semester is different-I’m actually available to make the classes, and I love them!  I have a little bit of a natural knack for salsa dancing, and I pick it up quickly.  After about eight classes, I felt confident enough to go out.  On the request of a few amigos, I got all my amigas together and we went to La Boga, another popular salsa club.  Boga is a very chic club with smooth-lined black and white leather chairs, glass tables, and red and white fleur-de-lis and vines painted on black walls.  The sounds system is fantastic (you get the feeling a live band is playing) and the lighting is intriguing.  Upstairs from the dance floor is a sky lounge with wide bamboo couches with white cushions, pergolas, and a fantastic view of the city from the roof.  This is something I love about Mexico: In the Seattle area, we don’t have good weather consistently enough to have really cool lounges on roofs.

I was excited to go out this particular night; I’ve been a bit of a book worm and study-aholic this semester and haven’t gone out as much as I’d like.  When we walked in we were immediately seated and welcomed by the bartenders and hosts, and invited to dance.  After feeling a little comfortable with the music and the surroundings, I accepted a dance from one of the hosts.  It’s a given that if you work in a salsa bar, you dance salsa like it’s your religion.  I quickly explained that I’d only had a modest few classes, and didn’t know how to do a lot of the steps.  “Don’t worry about it,” my new friend Antonio assured me.  “Just follow me.”

Well, the whole “following thing” only lasted so long.  I did, within the first two minutes of the song, learn loads of new steps and passes that I’d never done before.  Then, at a climax in the song, he tried to throw in something interesting, and dipped me-to the point where my back was about a foot off the floor.

Like I’d tried to tell him before, I didn’t know what I was doing, and had no idea how to support my weight for a dip so slow.  After a half second (which seemed like eternity) I couldn’t take it anymore and he dropped me.  Flat on my back.  In the middle of the dance floor.

Just as quickly as I’d fallen, he’d immediately grabbed me and pulled me off the floor and kept dancing, as if nothing had happened.  But it couldn’t change the fact that I was mortified with embarrassment, and angry that he’d pushed me beyond my limits to try something I clearly wasn’t ready to try, especially in public.

As embarrassed as I was, my resolution to not dance for the rest of the night only lasted about eight minutes before the music carried me away and I was back on my feet.  For the rest of the night, I watched other couples dancing, and (although no one actually fell on the floor as I had) there were plenty of people who were obviously just starting to learn how to dance.  I realized that if I succumbed to feeling uncomfortable dancing in public that I’m never going to learn how to dance.  After making a new determination, I threw myself into my classes and into really improving my dance.  Last night, I went out again, and I can already feel the difference and I know I’m doing better.