If living were like melting a fixed-weight candle, and something fun made you feel like your soul was on fire ((I guess I am feeling poetic)), would you die sooner because the crazy fire melts the candle faster??
I was having so much fun in salsa classes today, twirling and stepping and feeling the beat, that when the class ended, I felt like the floor just crumbled under my feet! Was it already 9:25PM already?? Really really?? where did time go?? I had so much energy to spare, I had to take a walk before taking the metro home.
It's the start of the summer session at my dance school, and once again, I am taking two salsa classes in a row, this time on wednesday evenings ((and two non salsa classes on mondays)).
The beginners' class, which I am retaking just because I can't get enough latin dancing, is from 6:45PM to 8PM. Today, everyone was new, except for me ((but nobody knows I am not new and it's better this way)), and except for the two teacher's assistants, both nice people that I really really really like. The girl is my very favorite person at the dance school. She's ammmazingly good and nice and humble. And the guy is my favorite dance partner, and I would dance with him forever if given the choice. Man I wish I could be friends with these two people. In any case, I did not have forever: I had to content myself with one or two dances with the guy because of the partner rotations.
I don't interact much with the girls in the class. I dance with the guys. And I wouldn't want to have it any other way. Some of the new guys were nervous today. As usual, I tried to be friendly. I counted two who were nearly my height and who had clearly eaten cheese before the dance class. Sigh. When the height is more offset, things like that are easier to deal with. I also counted one snob ((ewww)). The rest of the guys seemed normal and friendly. The teacher was great as usual: decent explanations, funny, kept the class as dynamic as he could. Gotta give him credit for his phenomenal energy. I know that dance is dance, and physics is physics, but I could not help but draw various parallels between things that the dance teacher says/does and things that I do in my classroom. And I also kept thinking of my old martial arts teacher. Maybe more on that later.
At 8PM came the time for the intermediate-level class. It was a little crowded. The two assistants had left. There were many guys that I recognized from having taken either a beginner-level or an intermediate-level salsa class with them. There also were several guys that I had never seen before, and among them, wearing a green shirt, this one blondish shorter version of Kimi Räikkönen. The guy has got style! And attitude too unfortunately: I don't like it when someone counts the beat for me (he did) because I *already* have a very high rhythm conscience, and am already annoyed with myself when I happen to not step on the beat.
In any case, in salsa, good or bad, one dance never lasts very long. You either enjoy it or you don't. And then the next dance comes with a different partner. This evening, some of the dances were so enjoyable I felt like I was on a magic carpet. One guy noticed that I really liked a certain move and said, smiling, "shall we do this over and over?". I really wish I could do salsa every evening. But salsa isn't offered every evening. If I found a second good dance school, I could even try alternating the schools on alternate evenings. Maybe then I could become part of the select clique at this school who always seem to know what they are doing. But then, what would happen to my grand plans of returning to martial arts? I really really really really miss punching and elbowing focus pads! And I always dream of turning Filipino stick-fighting partner drills into a dance *sigh*.
