Salsa

28.08.11

I had my first class last Wednesday, a casual one and loved it. I actually understood what I was doing and understood the music. And I was half in-love with the dance instructor who had cool hands and smooth moves and a very seductive smile. Tango, compared to Salsa, was a bit stilted although I understood it as well. Actually going to a Salsa Milonga tonight, if that's the right term, made me fall in love with it. It's fast, fun, invigorating. I was hoping for a dance with the sexy instructor but was quite happy with the many partners I had. My mistake, holding out and hoping to dance with him by quitting dancing with Wayne, a Kiwi guy who's nice. The same way I do things in life, writing someone off because I like someone in particular. Still haven't learned my lesson. But doing all these has taught me all the lesson I need. And I am learning something new everyday. I guess that's what's important.

Tonight also made me realize there are so many options out there, there is so much fish in this wide ocean. I have just restricted my sights on the small horizon that is work, gym and home. The Latin dance world has so many like-minded souls. If I don't bump into anyone at all, I still would have enjoyed the ride and given it my best. And that's what's important. I want to spend the rest of my life laughing and dancing and having fun. It's not golf or any other pretentious sport that would make me laugh. It's the intoxicating beats of Latin music, the gyrating hips, the euphoric feeling brought by all these. Yes, this is my world!

The Violinist

As the opening notes of "Desperado" slowly fill the air, I can't help but notice the tiny white specks at the corners of his mouth that looked like mini-fangs. His fashion statement? Or this morning's breakfast? Hardly an intellectual argument but it's just one of those Saturdays except that it is a sunny, winter Saturday. The colors and smells of the farmer's market bring to life what would have been an otherwise dreary winter morning.

He moves on to an intensely emotional Italian aria and Bocelli's Con Te Partiro. He makes love to his violin with such fervor. The crowd stops and listens. He gets more coins and herbal gifts than the vendors. Which explains why he gets the end stall the following week. The heat of the sun and the emotion brought about by the intensity of his performance prompts him to take off his sweater. The Mediterranean guy could not keep his Blackberry away. I initially thought he was a talent scout but discovered later on that he owns the Turkish stall in the corner. The amazement and the admiration by the audience are almost tangible. The old couple in the corner have not moved an inch. The grandpa in front is absolutely mesmerized and could not help himself and eventually walks over to introduce himself and gush over our maestro. I stay rooted to the pavement and plant my fat behind with a camera aimed at all times looking for "shootable" moments and angles, and reminding myself not to gape as it's not very flattering.

A nice lady at the Charity corner starts her "buy me" spiel on me but hesitates when I told her I am a Unicef global parent. Then again, I told her I wish I could do something more. She told me they accept volunteers but for the love of me, I can't remember the website now. The whole week has just been a blur of activities and thoughts.

He gets relegated to the naughty corner the following Saturday. Unusual for them to get the same artist two Saturdays in a row. This time, the stall owners get more patronage than his violin case.

His spell over me has not waned at all. Sad, though, that there are so many indifferent passersby. Really, how can they not stop and listen to that celestial sound? They go about their business deafly and blindly, almost mechanically. It is a sad sight. His repertoire is slightly similar to the one last week but is no less moving. To me, at least. Oh gorgeous-gorgeous Saturday!