Shall We Teach Dance?

Last night Emilio and I got to have our second night out in less than a week! It was pizza and movie night at kindergarten so parents could go out. We were so starving we settled for yummy express Chinese food and an ice cream (my husband has the most intense case of sympathy pregnancy symptoms I've ever heard of, so he's not only determined to match my weight gain pound for pound but in the last few days has started feeling round ligament pains. I'm not sure men even have round ligaments, but as I've just been having the first twinges of them stretching now he's got them.)

We were in a hurry because we didn't want to miss a dance class I had found on the Web. The studio is right by the freeway, indicated by a sign I've passed by for years. Just like a scene from the Japanese movie "Shall We Dance," we walked up some lonely stairs guided by a buzzing neon arrow and stood bemusedly in the empty hallway. Finally I spied a hand-lettered "ring the bell" note and we were let in to a room filled with ikebana sculptures by a grey-haired Japanese woman. The studio was quite spacious, but we were the only students after another couple finished their hour--I think the school tends to have more private lessons than big classes.

We danced for the two instructors and they were impressed. "We can show you ballroom style as opposed to nightclub," they said, but weren't dogmatic that one was better than the other. I learned a few tricks for spinning and holding my upper body frame stronger with the male teacher, while Emilio later told me his teacher--the woman who'd greeted us--asked him to feel her muscles! We worked separately for a while, and then did an exercise where they laid two bars over our arms so we would keep them level and strong. Emilio and I danced like that until his shoulders were burning. I did feel an improvement in our communication. As the hour was ending, the gentleman asked us if we knew how to dance cumbia and could show him. Emilio's the expert there, so we demonstrated a bit of danzón while the teacher searched for some cumbia music and then did cumbia, with Emilio commenting on Mexico City-style footwork. When we were done, the owner asked if we wanted to teach there.

"You have a really fun spirit," he said to Emilio. "I think you'd be a good teacher." I was bursting with pride! Apparently, the studio gets a lot of calls from people wanting to learn waltz and cumbia for quinceañeras. I don't know if Emilio wants to do it, but teaching dance would be a wonderful outlet for him. He's definitely not a performer like I am, but he is an excellent group leader and coach. We left in great humor, feeling like maybe despite being rusty we weren't such bad dancers after all.