Shall we dance?

I couldn't resist the opportunity to sign up for ballroom dancing for the first time in 20 years...especially as the lessons are held just behind the Duomo!

Michael and I went for our first lesson tonight, not quite sure what to expect, but generally anticipating the "usual" lineup of foxtrot, waltz, tango, rumba, you know the drill.

Well. They announced that they'd be starting us off with the mazurka. Mazurka? I only knew about a mazurka as a piano piece, not as an actual dance. And even then, I couldn't visualize the rhythm particularly.

Turns out it's a walking (progressive dance): one long step, two shorter steps. Easy. We started out, our usual graceful selves. We were actually staying upright, if a little giggly. Then they increase the tempo. No problem. Then came the music. Yes, it was accordion music. The giggles turned to snickers, which did not improve our coordination. Still, we acquitted ourselves fairly well. Until. At one point, the instructor told us that it really was supposed to move, and our smaller steps were supposed to be walking length and the longer steps a stride. Jane Fonda had no clue, I gotta tell you. The mazurka is way more aerobic. Maybe it's just because I'm fighting a cold in my chest, but wow.

Panting, sweating, and with heaving chests, we begged for mercy. Even Michael said that his 93 miles this morning (or whatever it was) was a piece of cake in comparison.

They chuckled and told us we'd start something else. This time an "American" (read "Latin American"...Cuban, actually) dance: the baciata. This was a dance we'd never even heard of, as a piano piece or otherwise. Turns out (surprise, surprise) to have unexpected hip thrusts at inopportune moments. Michael and I spent much of our tenure off balance, and it's best if we gloss over this period of our dancing history.

And then? They got really complicated and decided to teach us the slow waltz. Turns out, we know the Viennese waltz, but the slow waltz was a piece of cake in comparison to the others. Why they ended with this one rather than beginning with it, no one can tell.

Overall rating? An excellent way to escape from five children for an hour. A bonus: when we got home, the dishes had been washed and put away.

Love,

Alexandra