Turns out something good can come from Facebook–because it was in GGI (a group for expat women in Budapest) that I first heard about flamenco lessons.
I’ve always found the idea of flamenco dancing magnetic. (Cue montage of swirling red dresses and passionate stomping and intense arm swinging.) And the fact that the lessons were taught in English made it less intimidating.
So every Saturday for five months I stomped around. I tried to make my fingers submit to graceful shapes and bought my first pair of dance shoes and used muscles in my arms and shoulders I didn’t even know I had.
Over the months, flamenco took on more and more meaning. I love it for itself, but I also love it for what it represents to me: I’m living in a large, multicultural city and have more options than ever before to explore new activities, communities, and culture.
At the recital, I loved waiting backstage, hearing the rhythmic clacking of the shoes of the other performers. At times I would just close my eyes and try to move in ways I thought expressed the music–it proved to be a better warmup than just frantically repeating my choreography.
Of course I was nervous that I would trip or forget the steps–and at some points I did. I missed a tricky foot combination and I’m sure that at some points my arms looked more like a scarecrow’s than a sensual flamenca’s. But it was exhilarating. And I’m excited to look back at this performance in the future and see how far I’ve come.
So here’s to new experiences. Let the stomping continue!
Leave a Comment