Competition

By: Alberto G

I have begun going out occasionally, to dance salsa, learning as I go. Some friends from the milonga went so I joined them. Over the last year, through Conversation Exchange I have become interested in other parts of Latin America. Salsa seems to be important in some parts of some of those cultures.

Through chat with a Colombian musician friend and through interest, partly from tango, in the historical-cultural roots of music, the music itself became, if anything, more interesting than the dance. Exploring its origins led me to Puerto Rico, New York and especially Cuba.

With the perspicacity of a lifetime’s experience of this music and an awareness of how some “gringos” might tend to hear this music, Kami Rey Vegas wrote:

I recognised something delightful in Point 4.  Yes, people dance socially for fun, for that "expression of community life and the joy of seeing and meeting people spending time together, and sharing common spaces and traditions".  I do see that in the Latin Americans dancing salsa at our local club in a way in which their relaxation and ease sets them apart and makes them recognisable.  I don't see it in the locals uptight and concentrated in class, on getting it "right" and not "wrong" be it tango or salsa. I don't feel it when I feel "classeros", to borrow a term, concentrating on implementing their bought-and-paid-for steps or techniques in the social dance, or, god forbid, talking to me about their dance "homework".

Many Europeans, and now, sadly, even many younger Argentinians see tango, and I am sure, from what I see online, salsa, as  something to be attained, conquered, dominated. For many living in Latin America, those words will have a particular resonance and maybe that is in part, why learning socially still happens there and why dancing socially, is apparently a more relaxed affair. 

In the light of all that ambition, the gathering of people that Kami mentions, to simply dance together may seem quaint compared to the drama of exhibition dancing, or of the kind of "social" dancing where the intention is to be seen, to draw attention to yourself and to what you can do, to "get", and to "have" (power, status, attention) more than to enjoy the music and company of others.

Months before, Kami had described salsa in his country compared to in the Netherlands:

Tango teachers at any rate, will tell you, specifically, not to learn socially, because of the “bad habits” you will pick up. If people are so keen to pay for dance perhaps they should go, not to a self-styled teacher, most of whom I have not enjoyed dancing with, but to a social dancer they like dancing with, or who is recommended by other social dancers. I began dancing tango in 2012. Since then I have never seen a social dancer charge for help. It goes against the definition of a social dancer. If they did, we would call them something else: taxi dancers.  These exist, as volunteers, in the UK Ceroc world, but as professionals, in the milongas, even in Buenos Aires which is the only location I have ever seen them, they seemed a rare and private breed. The taxi dancers I have seen, dance, socially, much better than teachers, because their job and reputation rely not on selling steps and technique but on making the girl look good and more importantly, feel good, in the social dance.

So how did I find myself in a salsa class? I went at the suggestion of, ironically, a competitive dancer. While the initial, solo dancing bit was unpleasant, the part where the guys circulate round the women to practice the things learned was not, or rather, the bit where the DJ and teacher dance with you, was not.  I had, long minutes before, given up learning the steps and decided to just try to follow the guys. I had done the same in tango dance class years before until I realised it was ridiculous paying to be the prop of critical, stressed out guys I didn't want to be near anyway.  

I say I enjoyed this circulation, despite everything I know about the paramount importance of free partner choice in social dancing. When you are still learning a dance, people who can already dance (in this case, the teacher and DJ), dancing with you, sometimes trump things like mandatory changing of partners. There is a sensory overload of music, new partners, the excitement of participating in something new with someone who knows what they are doing, to guide you. That is a heady combination, especially when later, you also have a great time with your friends.

Those two guys could dance and that is why I went back to the second class. I figured at my age I wouldn't necessarily pick up the dance as a beginner, socially, because guys who can dance want to dance with women who can, particularly younger women.  But actually I know that's not wholly true.  Plenty of younger guys dance with much older women, for good reason.  At many different social dances I have seen countless women not in youth's first flush, dance with guys of all ages. Despite knowing this, at the time I believed what I really needed was dance time with guys who could dance so that I could quickly get dancing socially.  I wrote to the DJ about paying for that. He said yes that could be arranged and we would talk about it.

When I turned up he encouraged me to go to the city where they organised bigger events with plenty of good leaders, with workshops beforehand.  I was puzzled because I'd explained I was not good in class. He also said he could organise private dancing locally with the teacher and that he himself would dance with me within the constraints of DJing. None of this, in fact, came to pass. I joined the class that day and found it instantly stressful. I knew we were learning steps that almost none of the guys would do in the social dancing, as is common in many dance lessons supposedly intended for dancing socially. I hate solo dancing and have no experience with it. The less I believed I could do it, the more anxious I became and nothing hinders dance more.  I had hidden myself at the back of several rows and couldn’t see the guy's feet, even if I could have kept up. I felt stress building up inexorably like liquid approaching the top of a container. Within 15 minutes I squeezed, desperately, through the gyrating bodies and manic feet, hurtled blindly up the stairs, lunged at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic…and then another. I tried to think of a word to describe how I felt.  It was "traumatised". 

I marvelled that something I was purportedly doing for fun had had so much the opposite effect, simultaneously wondering why I was surprised.   "Sign of a healthy immune system, I'd say" said the imaginary voice of the guy I'd learned much from about tango and life, years before. I decided to go back down to the chilly basement with the bad seating and a floor so tacky you could practically walk out of your shoes, because my friends were coming for the social. I still wasn't feeling myself and didn't expect to dance. But I did, and it was a huge relief, relaxing, laid back and fun. People were nice, friendly. They didn’t care that I was a beginner. I knew I was somehow losing the rhythm on turns or when we changed position but they didn’t criticise me or even mention it.

But not all social dances are the same.  I had been recently to another social salsa event and described it to a Latin American friend afterwards:

- "Went from a poor milonga to, briefly, a hypnotically, embarrassingly bad salsa/bachata/ kizomba night. I told the guys who invited me to dance I was a beginner, whereupon the Scots among them would, on the way to the floor, ask, I kid you not, how many lessons I'd had & during the track, would reel off the names of the moves we were doing as though this were fun, normal or interesting!"

Friend: "Wow. Well, not necessarily surprising I guess... " 

I think his view of both the attitude and at the mix of salsa / bachata / kizomba was equally dim.  

The people had been friendly and well-meaning but I doubted Latinos would have done that. In fact, they didn't. Some Peruvian musicians I had met elsewhere turned up and one of them danced with me, in exactly the way that seemed normal - just dancing and adapting to what you can do.

It was surprising that the better social had the class beforehand, but in that social, the guys, no matter where they were from, didn’t name the moves as we did them or ask me about classes, they just danced with me. The atmosphere is always good there but that evening there was live percussion which took everything to another level - this time mesmerisingly good. I noticed a Colombian dancer who'd picked up the güiro for that song, smiling, watching us dance. It wasn't a smile of pity at a newbie because judgemental attitudes like that are maybe more European. I was in the zone created by that percussion, dancing with an experienced friend, and having a great time. Social dancing has nothing at all to do with steps but everything to do with music and connection with other people - the partner you are dancing with and those around you and that doesn't matter whether it's tango or salsa.

The next time we went out I asked my friend what was happening on the turns. "You just keep dancing", he said, simply, showing me. He'd never mentioned it on the three or four other times we'd been out.  I appreciated, not for the first time, his discretion.  "Just keep the rhythm going while you turn." I tried and it worked. “There you go” said his grin.  I beamed, delighted. It was so simple and I learnt this essential point in 5 seconds, with him. That’s learning socially. That’s social dancing and I will never do another salsa class.