On dealing with dodgy salsa men

I wrote these rules down for a friend back in April 2009 and just found them again. I thought it might be useful for the general population as well, hence why I've decided to transcribe them here. Here is the 3 step plan to dealing with dodgy salsa men:

 

1. Realise that all salsa men are by definition dodgy, up to no good and if they haven't got a girlfriend already that they are planning to cheat on, then that they plan on cheating on you.

 

2. Never dance more than two songs in a row with any salsa man - if you let it reach three, he's exercising extreme restraint if he hasn't yet overstepped the line (tongue down ear/throat, excessive closeness etc...). The rule is that you should dance only one dance at a time with the same guy unless:

 a) you started the dance more than halfway through

 b) some other dodgy dude is stalking you and you need your current partner to be your buffer

 c) the dance was of unbelievable quality, you both totally clicked and cannot fathom letting each other escape to dance with anyone else

 d) you totally messed it up and have to beg for a chance to immediately redeem yourself

 

Dancing three in a row is only ever ok with your best of salsa friends when there is really no one else around and you're using each other as practice material...or well, if you're dating, thinking of dating etc...

 

3. If asked about marital status, always without exception say that you are married...If that lacks credibility, a champion judo boyfriend of massive height will do - combining both is most effective! Saying your boyfriend was an M&A banker to explain his absence used to also be a valid excuse, but is this is no longer something most people are proud of or want to tell the world about! 

 

If you know of any other decent rules for safety from the dodgy salsa man, please share!

On your first congress

If you’re planning your first congress, here are some things that you might want to think about.

1. Your current level – I would recommend you have at least a year of regular dancing under your belt before you attend your first congress. These events can be quite intimidating and it might be quite frustrating not to be able to dance with everyone there.
2. The crowd – Try to ensure that you have a number of good friends attending the congress with you, preferably a couple for whom it is also a first experience. You will greatly appreciate being able to share this experience with someone, but also enjoy having other people to discuss the proceedings with.
3. The dominant style – This may sound obvious, but if you are a Cuban dancer, you will obviously enjoy a Cuban congress more, or at least one with a decent sized Cuban room.
4. Your budget – Congresses are not cheap weekends away. They can be reasonably cost effective, but you need to be able to dig around for good deals. The easiest way to do this is to buy your tickets early and try to get a group discount. Staying in the country is another way to reduce the costs: take advantage of those congresses that are on your doorstep, in which you will have the added benefit of knowing more people as well.

For those of you who’ve been to a congress, is there anything else you would have liked to have considered prior to going?

On my first congress

I remember my first congress as quite an eye opener – I really had not anticipated that there would be quite so many salsa addicts, nor that they could all gather in one place. Little did I know, there was a whole world of these congresses out there!

I found it to be quite comforting. Here was I, a veritable salsa addict who was looking to take her dancing to the next level and was unsatisfied with her small local scene. And there I discovered that these limits were only in my mind. In reality the salsa world was even larger than I’d envisaged and the opportunity was there to be seized.

It was soothing also from the perspective that my seemingly all-encompassing madness was not unique. There were clearly many others who loved to dance as much as I did and who were willing to migrate to some random location for the weekend in order to pursue their love of the dance.

It was hugely motivating from an educational perspective. My first salsa congress showed me that I was a purely Cuban dancer. I could dance LA style salsa but was only just starting to grasp the difference. I found myself most at home in the Cuban room because it was more relaxed and far less intimidating. But it opened my eyes to LA/NY salsa and the skill level that could be attained. I had stopped taking classes, but upon my return from Bournemouth, I started taking LA style classes. I did this with renewed energy and enthusiasm and a better idea of where I wanted my dancing to progress to.

But mostly, it was fun! Three nights of dancing, classes every hour on the hour, impressive shows. To be able to fully indulge in what you love while constantly surrounded by friends and millions of potential new ones was amazing!

On congresses - Democracy

I have referred to small congress lovers before and I will do it here again as they provide as good a way as any to start any debate. Small congress lovers have at times sought to explain their event size preference by referring to the more democratic nature of these events.

Indeed, if there is but one party room, then everyone will be lumped together in the same place. Not only will you avoid all friend finding issues, but you will also find that given the limited number of people, those present are required to be friendlier, more open and more willing to dance with everyone else. As the dancing snob that I am (I'm slowly admitting to it as I write this blog), I maintain that this is an attitude brought about by necessity rather than by choice. Needless to say the endgame is the same whatever the reasons: people tend to be friendlier at smaller congresses. 

Not so, according to F. He believes that some of these smaller congresses can get cliquey (to pursue the governmental metaphor, dare I say nepotistic?). It stands to reason that in a small congress, most of the dancers will be locals and their friends (you wouldn't trek across the world for a tiny event unless you were going to be there for another reason right?). As a result, until they've seen you dance, they are likely to be slightly wary. Not to worry though, crack out the charm F and all the ladies will want to befriend you - just save your famous sarcasm for me ok? 

Another issue with having a small congress is that by having one room with all the dancers in it, you also have to make sure that your DJ is much more democratic in his music choice. Unless you label yourself as a pure Mambo or Rueda congress as the Wuppertal and Stavanger ones do, you will most likely have a wider pool of dancers to satisfy. As a result, a wider selection of music will be required to keep everyone happy. Mambo purists beware! In small congresses, it is not unusual to have a half hour of reggaeton, or a period of semi-enforced line dancing.

And this is where the democratic nature of the smaller congresses loses itself. In believing that the population size is small enough for those gathered to be controlled, the organiser has been known at times to turn dictator. The people’s will is no longer listened to, the DJ’s understanding of the movements on and off the dance floor is disrupted and instead, enforced ruedas to salsa romantica (no less!) have been made forced into being. The organiser turned fascist dictator thus overturns the will of the dancers to satisfy and entertain a chosen minority. I’m not sure whether I represent the independent revolutionary pamphlet or the conservative voice of the aristocracy in this scenario, but either way, I find it hard to participate!

In my opinion, democracy is not inflicting the tastes of the many onto the few, but giving everyone the right to choose. The dancers have more power, in those congresses where they can choose which dance floor to go to, which dance floor to stay on and which tracks they want to dance to. Such congresses do not necessarily have to be the biggest congresses, but they have to be sizeable enough to be able to offer multiple dance floors within reasonable reach of each other. Take the Croatian Summer Salsa Festival – last year they had a Cuban and a Cross Body dance floor, lying 15 meters apart so that you could decide which one you wanted to be on from the carpet in between the two. Surely dance floor democracy does not get any more perfect than that?

On congresses - Intimacy

Small congress lovers will claim that a prime quality of the events they attend is their more intimate nature. For me though, the intimacy of a congress is determined by the number of people you know, how small it feels to you. Take the Berlin Congress in 2010. The congress was huge, but I knew so many people there that to me, it felt small. I spent the whole weekend dancing with friends from prior congresses, catching up with people, having a much needed dance with someone I hadn’t seen in three months. I eventually met and befriended a small handful of people, but there were very few surprises. 

Compare this with my experience of the Tumbao Festival in Lille. The congress was less than a quarter of the size and almost felt like a country barn dance - it was also primarily a Cuban congress, which didn't help with this impression. On arrival I figured that I knew perhaps 20 dancers, but as a percentage, I knew or recognised far less people than I had in Berlin. So it's not the physical size of the congress that matters towards determining the degree of intimacy that an event might hold, but the number of friendly faces that you'll be surrounded by.

Consider also the percentage of dancers you desperately want to dance with. As a closeted on2 snob, in a congress where most people were only interested in the Cuban room, I suddenly realised just how restricted my preferred audience was. Being the closeted snob that I am, I kept up the denial and spent much time in the Cuban room, but was constantly griping internally about the missing on2/LA dancers. Don't get me wrong, I essentially want to dance with anyone and everyone. Put on the music, show me the dance floor, give me a partner and I'm perfectly happy. But give me a choice as to the music, the dance floor and the partner and you've got a whole different ball game. 

Thus, given my preference for choice, I would rather lose myself amidst a sea of (mambo) dancers. To those who say you lose the intimacy in this environment, I would reply that you simply need to restrict the boundaries or the dance floor in your mind. People may say it's snobby to only dance in one area of the dance floor, to hang out where all the good dancers are, or just under the DJ booth, but ultimately, if you restrict your field of vision and focus on those people in your immediate vicinity as opposed to those two rooms away, the event will no longer feel so large or so daunting. You can pick any area, it can be the doorway if that makes you happy and keeps you cool; the spot next to the shoes so that you can nab a few dances with the Italians who sell them; the bar, to ensure those having liquid breaks will watch and appreciate your artistry. Pick your area and make it feel like home by dancing with all the willing dancers within it. And if you ever want to move around and start again in a new ocean of amazing mambo strangers, at least you’ll be completely free to do so!

On connecting

A male friend of mine recently asked his female friends what they like best in male leads. In so doing he received a litany of replies about how important factors include: technique, timing, connection, smoothness. There was a general outcry though against strong leads, or rather leaders who use force to make a move happen on time, at the expense of the follower's timing, or grace.

Looking for a connection

My position is that what we are looking for on the dance floor is a connection with our partner, an ability to communicate on some level and jointly appreciate the however many minutes we spend in each other's company. It doesn't have to be magical or epic, though certainly those are the dances that bring us undue glee. However, there needs to be some form of exchange, a moment shared, whether it be via a smile, a giggle, a sideways glance, a parallel understanding of the music.

There are many ways in which we can share a dance without sharing a moment. Take for example the guy who wishes to show off to a real or imaginary audience, but forgets that you are there with him. Take the guy who is desperately trying to use the 3,000 moves he's learnt in class, but who is so concentrated on pulling these out his sleeve that he neglects to notice that he's actually practising on a real person rather than the imaginary woman he used in front of his mirror at home. Take finally the performer who is intent on making you run through the choreography for which he learnt the pattern and timing, but not the leading technique. These are all situations that I could do without on the dance floor.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for my friends to practise on me. In fact, I love it. But it's not appropriate for them to do this in the middle of the dance floor at a social event!

A perfect lead?

So I don't believe that there is one perfect type of lead in the absolute. Everyone likes something different and we all connect with people in varied ways. We all have our individual preferences, and these evolve. As a beginner, I needed a strong lead - If the man didn't assert himself, I didn't feel like I could trust him. Looking back, I understand that it was also that I didn't trust myself to step in time without a strong guiding hand. As my confidence grew, and my balance improved somewhat, I still looked for a strong lead - the first people who had me doing multiple spins were all strong and smooth leads. I still felt I needed a strong hold as I hadn't yet developed the necessary core muscles to control my own body. Now, years on, I like the lighter leads - I don't need someone to push me around, I'm perfectly capable of spinning and standing and dancing on my own (about time too, as I've definitely had enough practise!).

Another friend calls me the "honest dancer". Indeed, if a move is not led correctly, and I'm not feeling very generous, I often refuse to "help" the guy I'm dancing with (assuming I could have guessed what he wanted me to do in the first place!). If he can't lead clearly, then I will stay where he left me until he comes back to collect me and continue the dance. Often this takes a revolution or two on the guys part, but they eventually come back and lead me, making changes to their rehearsed routine to accommodate both me and their leading technique.

In the same manner, if a guy puts too much tension into his lead, while the natural reaction is to exert the same amount of tension back, I will do the opposite and let my arms go floppy. I still follow, but if he is going to fling me around, there's no reason why I should get injured in the process! Better to let your hand slip out of his grip whenever possible and gently extricate yourself from a potentially arm wrenching position. Throw in a graceful shine or two (if possible) and an encouraging smile and he'll see that you're at least trying (in appearance) to do your part. In the end, both these methods will get the guy to focus on the fact that he has a real woman at the end of his fingertips, as opposed to an imaginary J-Lo made of only air.

Ultimately, I think the dance is about communicating via these signals, although usually they are more subtle than the form I have described above. As I start a dance, I try to be as light as possible. This is all the more important if you do not know your partner. The music usually takes some time to get under way and most guys will start you off with a cross body lead anyway, so there's really no need to hang onto each other for dear life. Imagine you're walking across a dark room feeling for a partner you don't know - you're going to be tentative right, lest you accidentally poke his eye out? Here, it's the same. Well, aside from the major differences of the lights being on, the other couples dancing... but you catch my drift. As you feed off each other, the music grows faster and the moves become more intricate, the connection will grow. Hence, assuming you're both dancing in time with the music and mutually respond to each other's tension, then the dance should be as smooth as butter!

Make no mistake, building this partnership does not come naturally every time you randomly stick two people together on the dance floor. You will find some leads more comfortable than others and your friends may well disagree with you. There will be partners with whom you instantly click and others with whom you have to work harder to build a connection over time (I leave it to you to decide whether it's worth it). There will be people with fantastically clear leads who you ultimately won't really enjoy dancing with - perhaps because they don't ever smile or because they can quite easily lead you as smoothly as you'd dreamed they would, without ever even seeing you. I've danced with a couple of "salsa-celebs" who were exceptionally smooth but lacked any kind of va-va-voom. I was practically jumping up and down screaming for fire, energy, attention, a wisp of a smile, and yet I got NOTHING in return! My only thought after those experiences was "Perhaps I should have worn a mini skirt?". As a professional, you would have thought they would have learnt to fake it before they reached their A-game!

To conclude, I believe that each dance is a conversation and so long as both parties can make a coherent effort to speak the same language, it should be perfectly enjoyable, even if it does not reach the epic heights we so often dream of. Just as with learning any language, this connection that plays out via body movement is something that while some may have natural abilities, everyone can work at. Providing your respect the song's timing and your partner's efforts to lead or follow, fluency is within everyone's reach . Most dancers (I say this to exclude freaks, drunks et al) love dancing, so it's really just a question of figuring out what tickles their smile buttons! Once you've figured that out, up to you to figure out what kind of smile you're looking for.

On 2010

I thought it might be interesting to list the big salsa events that I attended this year. While it is my aim to post reviews for all of them, I'm not sure it makes sense to go all the way back (since I'll be attending many of them again in 2011). However, if you have any questions about any of them and want an opinion, let me know!

If not to serve the general salsa dancing public, let this be proof of how addicted I am to salsa and travelling far and wide for it!

1. Stars of Salsa (January, London, UK, Weekender)
2. Zurich SalsaFestival (February, Zurich, Switzerland, Full congress)
3. Festival Salsa de Monaco (March, Monaco, Monte Carlo, Full congress)
4. Mambocity (April, London/Heathrow, UK, Full congress)
5. Brussels Salsa Festival (May, Brussels, Belgium, Full congress)
6. Croatia Sun, Sea, Salsa Festival (June, Rovinj, Croatia, Parties only + beach time)
7. Bournemouth Cuban Congress (August, Bournemouth, UK, Friday and Saturday parties only)
8. NYC Salsa Festival (September, NYC, USA, Full congress + Frankie Martinez and Maria Torres classes)
9. Lille Tumbao Festival (September, Lille, France, Saturday night party only)
10. Berlin Salsa Festival (October, Berlin, Germany, Full congress)
11. Valbonne Salsa Festival (October, Valbonne, France, Saturday night party only)
12. Singapore Salsa Festival (November, Singapore, Singapore, Saturday night party only)
13. Salsorro (November, Santiago de Compostella, Spain, Full congress)

I also went to Nigeria for work, Thailand and Italy for pleasure and to Portugal in passing. So a total of 13 countries.

Hopefully 2011 will be full of at least as much excitement and as many wonderful nights out dancing!

On blogs

I've been giving it some thought and I've come to the conclusion that blogging about salsa is simply the next level for me in my obsession with this dance.

First there were classes, then parties, then there was the music collection, then the friends. After that came the congresses, the salsa holidays, the Sunday afternoon salsa chill-out sessions. And finally, when talking about salsa to my salsa friends ultimately became insufficient, I went looking for blogs and forums as a way to express those thoughts which would otherwise be thoroughly uninteresting to lay people.

So yes, I'll admit it, I'm a talker. To call me "the one who won't shut up" would be an understatement. And yes, I'm aware that I have a tendency to go on...and on...and on some more! Hence why the blog format works - no one needs to read or listen, but I still get the feeling that of airing my thoughts to all and sundry. When all you seemingly want to talk about is "Salsa", this format becomes even more important - How else to get those crucial salsa-thoughts out, without scaring the many who are quite ignorant of the topic (and in many cases wish to remain so!)?

I'm fascinated with all the salsa debates and what different opinions people have on them. 

E.g.:

- The merits of one dance style versus another

- The merits and characteristics of songs and ways in which they can be classified and interpreted

- The hierarchy on the dance floor

- The different approaches people take to salsa - skill vs. entertainment

- The way people approach others on the dance floor - friend, acquaintance, passing dance partner?

These are just a few examples. Generally these debates can be launched by a lay person asking a silly question, but most serious dancers will have an opinion on each topic. As you become more acquainted with the salsa community and its unwritten code, your position on each topic will evolve and your thoughts on each matter will be become more detailed. Hence the need to make space for more such thoughts by evacuating those that have already matured. And voilà, the salsa blog is born!

On the urge

A friend of mine has also started a salsa blog. She's based in Paris and has been dancing for longer than I have, so is likely to have some interesting thoughts to share. Check it out:

http://www.salsavida.se/?p=28

It's interesting, because in one of her recent posts (8th December 2010), she mentions that in the early days, nothing could stop her from going out and dancing, that she'd dance most nights of the week and that rain or snow, she would be out on a dance floor somewhere, dancing with absolutely everyone. She asked why the feeling has changed, why she has become more selective, why the cold is now an impediment to a good night's dancing and why she finds herself being more responsible in considering her next day at work rather than only the pending happiness of her feet.

I have been a witness to this change in myself as well. There was a time when I was at dinner with a guy but ditched him and any potential future plans (and relationship) with him because I needed to dance that night. Needed - there was really no other option. There were countless other friends who realised that on certain nights I was not available because there was only one thing that I wanted or was prepared to do. Priorities were reordered, non-dancers were mildly offended, but I could not be stopped. 

Nowadays, things are different. I rarely go dancing more than once a week and in doing so, only go to one place. I find excuses for the other nights - the all too real "I'm still at work" or "I have a conference call", the cold, the rain, the crowd, the floor, the music. I need a guarantee that it will all be perfect for it to be worth my while. Where I used to promise myself that I would never go home after work, make dinner and chill out in front of the TV - I thought I could escape this plight because there's always an open salsa venue somewhere - I now enjoy doing this. I feel like I've aged, like I no longer have the energy I once had and as I can no longer drive myself to such extremes of activity. 

To be clear, this new lethargy does not mean that I am any more available for non-dancers, I haven't changed the order of my priorities or relocated salsa to a lower position in the list. However, somehow, I've just slowed it all down a notch.

When I meet young recruits to the salsa world and they enthusiastically tell me that they dance six nights a week, I smile and silently think they are crazy. And I know that I am giving them the same disapproving look that non-dancers and dancers alike used to give me. Of course, people still give me the same look - to most people, I appear to be just as obsessed, but from inside, it feels different. Just like my friend, I miss that crazy insane joy that used to push me out of the house and onto the dance floor. The trepidation, the accelerating heartbeats, the excitement of knowing that I would be dancing soon. 

So what is it that makes us mature into this lazier breed of social dancer? And does the craziness really go away? I wrote a post ahead of the New York Salsa Congress when I felt I was going mildly insane. Back in August, I was gripped with salsa fever. Now, it seems to have died down once again and while I want to dance and am happy when I do, there is no craziness involved. Perhaps this is healthy? 

Or perhaps I'm simply focused on different things. My current focus is one night - Sundays at SOS ("Salsa on Sundays" in Russell Square). To my mind, this is the best night of the week, marked by its dancers, its DJs, its floor, its ambiance - it's truly the haven for dancers that it aims to be. My more balanced attitude for salsa on most days of the week is still matched with my physical need to go to SOS on Sundays. The mere thought of missing those golden three hours of dancing makes me miserable! 

In conclusion, I would maintain that, as least in my case, the craziness is still there. I think I have become better at managing it, at appearing normal, at showing to others that I am a balanced human being. Ultimately, I still get crazed, as evidence by the pre-New York episodes. I get upset when the best three hours of my week are taken from me. And I spend most of my daydream time thinking about possible congresses to go to. 

Clearly, the obsession is still alive and well.

On flirting

It would seem that some women do not know how to dance without flirting.

One of my female friends refuses to dance with other women for this particular reason. Indeed, she says, when she dances she cannot help but flirt and thus it would be weird dancing with a woman given that she's not interested in flirting with members of the same sex.

I find this strange. Why? Not because I particularly like dancing with other women, but because I consider myself to be monogamous. Therefore, surely flirting with more than 20 men in one evening is pushing speed dating to a whole new level?

Another friend of mine once explained to me that she felt awkward that her father was standing watching her from the side of the dance floor. When asked why, she replied that she felt strange knowing that her dad could watch her flirt with many a man. This time, somewhat prepared by my previous conversation on the subject I asked her whether she realistically endeavoured to flirt with all the men she danced with. She said yes. I asked again - does she really flirt with all the old, fat men who can't dance and swing her precariously close to what might be permanent paralysis? Seemingly, the answer to this question was still yes!

So is it impossible to dance without flirting? I maintain that it is. I think the key to dancing is to develop a connection with the other person, to build something together during the course of the dance. Flirting is but one way of doing this. Perhaps in the case of my two friends, they do not yet differentiate between the different types of connections? Or perhaps they simply decided that flirting can make three minutes a whole lot more fun!