22:09 - 17.06.05
Salsa
I started the morning with fishnet stockings and a moccachino venti. The stockings? I'd fished them out of the bargain bin at the local drugstore some months back - nostalgia prompting me. When I last wore them it was part of the "sex kitten" image. I detested the link to the James Bond portrayal of women though , so in protest, I gave them up. Not that anyone noticed, of course. This morning the rain was sluicing down out of the sky with a forecast of the second coming of the monsoon. I knew there was a good chance I would have to travel outside for reasonable periods of time, given that it was Block Party Day. Not only did I have to travel back and forth between work and the dance studio, but it was likely that I would be traveling transit to get home, too. The second consideration was that I wanted to stay cool at the event I had sponsored. Mutually exclusive - dress warm outside/ dress cool inside. My solution was the fishnet stockings under the dance gear. I knew I had bought them for a purpose. The moccachino venti was just for courage. Not much has gone right with planning the event. I was afraid of what the day might bring. Courage in a coffee cup,I guess.
Arrived at work at the usual time. No lights on on the floor. Did the "opening up for buiness" honours, then went on with the tasks I'd planned to get done before going off to play. Two of the other co-workers on the floor arrived, just as I was digging in to the database. We discussed our itineraries for the day. They both gave me their cell phone numbers and invited me to sit with them and their husbands at the dinner in the evening. I allowed that I would have to see how I felt toward the end of the day. I don't want to get sick again, so I'm not pushing the envelope for any reason.
Logged out of the computer at about 8:15 and headed out into the tropical storm. Arrived at the dance studio about 10 minutes later, before anyone else had arrived. My first assignment was to check the gift bags to see if they fit the criteria for the event. Choices of dance videos, CDs and Spanish dictionaries seemed good. The crowd started to straggle in in twos and threes. A lot of questions and some nervousness. Most attendees had signed up to try something completely different from their normal routine. Two of the women had extensive backgrounds in dance training, but nothing in the latin genre. The whole range of skill levels.
First lesson was about breakfast South American style. Eggs on tortilla shells topped with sour cream and a special sauce, refried bean paste and fresh fruit. Yum. To work it off? Three hours of dance/aerobics. We started off slowly with Hip Hop lessons. It was a good ice breaker, because no one had any skill there. Mutual support and commiseration are good ways to build trust in a group. The instructor noted that everyone had that "deer in the headlights" look about them. Go Bambi! Great choices of music got us through it.
Next was survival dance for the upcoming Calgary Stampede. Two stepping, then Texas style line dancing. Yee Haw. 13 women and one man made the partnering a little difficult and most of us have never tried to lead. Oi. The young woman who had agreed to act as the official group photographer decided she would take me in hand. Newly arrived from China she put me to shame, given that I should know it as a native of the city. Our instructor was a very pretty young woman. At one point several high school students of the male persuasion were standing outside the studio window watching with rapt attention. She looked sideways at me and asked if I thought we should try to recruit them so that there was a better gender balance in the class. Why not, if they were willing. A few took up the challenge and I had Steve as my partner. Think Eminem Canadian style. Nice earring and a wicked sense of humour. When the boys left for their next classes we switched to the Texas line dance done to music a la Garth Brooks. Most of the women allowed they had a crush on him. I don't really care much for country music, so I couldn't summon up an image of the man. I think Tim McGraw is the only one that comes to mind other than Willie Nelson and Charley Pride. Shameful thing for a homegrown Westerner like me.
Last of the morning dance classes was the Latin aerobics. Now that was fun. Based on a fusion of latin rhythms and dance moves brought over from Africa, it had the group moving from very fast to frenetic. The instructor took pity on us and turned on the floor fans. In spite of that a lot of the class had to drop out at one point or another, because of the pace. I was having so much fun I forgot to do that. A lot of the movement was akin to belly dance, but set to latin music. Whole new way of looking at things. The one male, who I had been worried about because of his comments on the phone earlier, turned out to be quite delightful and well behaved. Handlebar mustache was his most significant feature, a style arising from the British company he had worked for for a couple of decades, I think. At one point he looked over at me and commented that for someone recuperating from pneumonia I was managing very well. It's the Sufi effect - dance away your pain, don't you know. What was new to me was some of the african dance moves. They felt really good, opening up the spine and the chest in ways I hadn't considered before. About 15 minutes before the end of that session I could really feel the blood pulsing through my body. At that point the brain said "wait a minute, three years ago you just about had heart failure, this isn't safe". I told the brain to shut up and went on playing. Cool down was a combination of calisthenics and yoga. Om mane padme hum.
Lunch was entertaining, sitting in on a number of conversations. Losing the physical inhibitions over the morning while dancing translated to a much freer flow of chatting among the groups. The wine helped too. Oh yeah, not only are we paid for a regular work day to go play, but then we got to "eat, drink and be merry" too. Have I mentioned how much I like this company? Lunch was chicken and saffron rice latin style with salad and cheesecake too. So much for the burned off calories. The wine appreciation course was led by a gentleman who has worked with some very high profile celebrities, coaching them in how to cope in the fishbowls they often find themselves in especially in public places like restaurants. He made each of us feel as though we were unique and special too - or maybe that was just the wine talking too.
Most of the group was feeling the need for siesta about that time, but one more dance class remained. Salsa - oh yeah. I hadn't remembered how seductive that could be either. Last time I tried it was in my late teens I think. Most of the classes we danced solo in the group, but some of the studio owner's male friends and relatives arrived for the last session, so we could actually try the dance as it is meant to be - with a partner. Now I have to admit I have issues around being touched by any adult male and that was something that also had me a bit scared this morning. The owner's brother took me in hand and didn't seem to mind that I stared at my feet the whole time. The wine had broken down some of the inhibitions, but I haven't been on a dance floor for a couple of decades. That was scary too. By the time the session was ended I was quite comfortable though. The movement and the music made it easy and the brother was very patient with the missteps. Fun, but I felt wiped out by then. Or maybe that was the wine too. Several of the class were attending the dinner, so I asked one of the more outgoing members if she would speak for our group at the dinner in the evening. I explained about the pneumonia and that I couldn't afford to get sick again. She agreed to bail me out of that responsibility. I stepped outside to a drenching downpour that felt really good after the heat of the day. The train/bus rides were a pleasant blur of the Friday work crowd heading home en masse. Old familiar faces each of us minding our own thoughts - letting the effects of the day seep through you. Went home to a hot shower,with thunder and lightning crackling overhead. Now it's time for bed I think.
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