Salsa = Trouble

Salsa! Just the word  in itself is enough to describe poise, passion and perfection. With all that in mind and about 6 years of contemplation I decided to join a Salsa class. but hey! I am in Turkey. Shouldn’t I be going to Spain or somewhere else where they actually do it… That’s what I was thinking, until a BIG BONE got stuck in my throat.

A few days back I had a slight argument with the “office bragging queen” who seem to know it all and after relentlessly waiting to finish what I was going to say “I have been practicing Salsa for two years now” slipped out of my mouth. And that was a darn big mistake. “Oh!” and she jumped out of her seat, immediately rushing to the director of studies to pass on the kind word that we had a Salsa dancer in our team of English Language teachers. Director is a very kind and creative man who seem to want, to be ahead of others in his league. Therefore, to present ourselves as a “competition for the language schools we will now also offer 90 minutes of Salsa classes each week, free of charge. Furthermore the classes, will be conducted by an ace dancer who has been practicing for two years now.” The only thing good about that for me; these 90 minutes will be counted as working hours.

Absolutely, one knows that on the name of Salsa I only know the first, basic step which has been enough to get me into trouble. Now that the dooms day of utter embarrassment is heading closer I need to get moving. The first thing I did yesterday was to locate the most pristine dance school in my small town. Not that I had many choices anyway, I went there and signed up, made the payment and begged to start my class yesterday. The teacher wasn’t available, so the mentors Mehmet and Setenay,offered to help me. Right now, other than the basic step I have a plan. I will teach as I learn. Finally, my formal shoes saw daylight as I stepped out of home to head for my first class which lasted little over 3 hours. Mehmet asked me to join them for the weekly Salsa event, where dancers from all over the province come to show their talent. I had only seen anything like that in ‘Shall we dance’, but was hell excited to see it for real. After my class he gave me an hour, to go home, change, eat,  pack extra T-shirts (in case I get sweaty, considering I sweat like a pig and stink like a one too that was an advice well deserved). The dance school is about 15 minutes walk from home, so actually I just had 30 minutes. Guess what!!! I do not have any nice clothes, as it is winters,I decided to invest in jumpers and coats, rather than shirts. So,I went shopping, ate, packed and was back in about 1 hours 15 minute. Quite a marathon but I did it. Everyone was waiting outside the school for the buss to arrive. I took that time to get introduced to the other schoolmates. Being the only foreigner (and English speaker, with mere comprehension of Turkish), I was like the brand new toy. Object of everyone’s interest; they all would start the conversation with me in Turkish, and would soon realize I was an alien. The entire night I was the center of attention. I told everyone that I was only 3 hours old in Salsa, so they appreciated and suggested to do the basics once I was on the dance floor; of which I had no intentions.

It took us about 45 minutes to reach the venue. And then the action began… I was intimidated to see all the other dancers. With absolutely no regrets of learning Salsa in Turkey. I stared at them like they were some sort of supernova, that no one ever witnessed. Mesmerized and completely awestruck I watched them as they swirled around the floor. My throat went dry and I felt goosebumps everywhere in my body; even in the places I didn’t imagine they existed. After a while, I accumulated my shattered self confidence and esteem, to head towards the dance floor. Setenay was a patient teacher, so she offered to take me with her. Every steep soon stared to fall in place. I sure went a little ahead of the basic step. Though I made a few mistakes, but who cares! There were about 20 couples on the dance floor I am sure no one noticed.

They took a lot of pictures, of which I happen to be in a few (or I would like to think so).  After Salsa, Bachata and Cha Cha Cha, music changed to fun filled Meringue, soon followed by Turkish and Arabic music. I tried to match the Traditional Turkish dance steps, which were fairly simple as compared to what I had seen through the evening. My schoolmates were surprised to see that, they all watched me I like I was doing something strange. With similar expressions on their faces as I had when I watched them. In order not to offend anyone with the wrong step, I followed everything to the T. They all joked if I was Turkish, and the evening ended with laughter, a bowl of midnight chorba (soup), a long ride back home and lots of friendly smiles which wholeheartedly welcomed me to their wonderful world.