Winking and Waggling

It is a gorgeous day in the Dub. It was the perfect temperature for my walk to work this morning (I abandoned the bike after taking the usual bruising on it yesterday). It was chill enough to unleash a crisp fall smell and for me to amuse myself by forming breath clouds, but not uncomfortably cold. The sun actually made a rare appearance as I was going through Herbert Park and created visible criss-crossing patterns as its shafts of light fell through the leaves.

The beautiful morning only added to the elation that was still lingering after my salsa class last night. I had an absolutely brilliant time, and managed to make a new friend. The advanced class was just finishing up when I arrived. I was standing near a couple of guys waiting for the floor to clear, and I overheard one of them saying that the weather here now was like a nice Canadian fall. I asked him if he was Canadian, and said I was American. We chatted about Dublin and our expatriatism until class began and the instructor herded girls to one side of the dance floor and guys to the other.

After doing some basic steps in that segregated fashion, we came together in randomly-assigned partner pairs. The women stayed with each partner for a few minutes and then moved on to the next guy on the left. Unlike last week's class, the ratio of guys to girls was fairly proportionate. That meant I didn't have to assume the lead as I'd done previously.

Going down the line of guys was highly entertaining. One of my first partners picked up on my American accent after me just saying my name. Maybe my accent isn't quite as muddled as I'd like to think. Things got a little stranger as I moved down the line. You pick up on everyone's nervous tics very quickly in this setting. One of my partners winked at me repeatedly. Another waggled his eyebrows strangely frequently. Some studied their feet intensely. Some were sweating profusely. Some were afraid to touch me. Some pushed me across the floor quite enthusiastically when we were doing a cross body turn. A few didn't lead at all. Essentially, the entire experience is amazingly awkward. First there's a clumsy introduction, followed by even clumsier dancing and small talk. And this scenario is repeated over and over again throughout the night. Despite all this, it somehow manages to remain enjoyable.

My last partner of the night happened to be the Canadian guy. They transform the studio into a salsa club after class has ended on Thursday nights, and I stayed on to dance for a while with him and his regular salsa partner. They tried to teach me a more advanced move that I've not yet learnt, but they couldn't remember exactly how to execute it. One of the instructor's aides went by, and they asked him to remind them. After he'd shown them where they were going wrong, he danced with me for a while. I learned more then than I had the rest of the evening. It was much more instructive to dance with someone more advanced than me rather than having the blind leading (or not leading) the blind.

So the dance class is great fun and seems to present many exciting prospects. Like having the chance to observe more winks and waggles.