The Geography of the Dance Floor

Well firstly, let’s be clear, the mapping out of a dance floor depends very clearly on the kind of music that is being played.

Say you’re in a Cuban-oriented salsa club where a variety of tropical music is passing through the decks. By this I mean a general mix of Cuban salsa, salsaton and salsa Romantica. Throw in a bachata here and there, a merengue, the odd reggaeton or even a kizomba if you’re feeling racy. I’ve just set the scene for a place that attracts a fair amount of non-dancing riff-raff and a gaggle of latinos out to have a good time. Let’s be clear, I’m not judging here, just setting the context in what I hope is a fairly descriptive manner.

Right, so in this club, you’ll typically find that the Cubans, Brazilians (if there are any), Colombians each have a corner that they have colonised. The serious dancing folk also have theirs – usually somewhere that the floor isn’t too sticky, the drunks aren’t too oblivious and the lights aren’t flashing too much. The less serious dancing folk tend to be on the dance floor and going back and forth to the bar for liquid replenishments and general social breaks. The dodgy men either stand around, dance or circulate depending on whether they’ve found a prey. Their prey or “newbies” wonder around lost, ever so narrowly escaping one dodgy man, only to fall into the highly suspect arms of the next.

The newbies, being new by definition, and not having understood the not-so-complex map of the dance floor, stand out to all and sundry. Seriously, you could be carrying a neon sign on your head that says “pick on me”.

Not to worry, they soon become addicts and learn how to defend themselves or disappear in shock and horror, never to return again. For those who do stick it out, watching them gravitate the steep learning curve is eye-wrenching. However, only experience will help them learn all the signs, push them to seek help from bouncers, DJs or fellow dancers when necessary, and save them from hours of potentially back-breaking, badly timed dips, shuffles and spins.

Having said that, in the war to avoid the Dodgy Salsa Man (I will write a post on this group at some point), we women may well escape from some battles unscathed, but over time, many will be lost. These men have been around for longer and have built up an armoury of tricks that will lead to repeat defeats for all of us. Sometimes, whatever the experience you may have fending these men off, you just don’t see it coming!

Now, let’s compare this club setting to that of a salsa social. I now refer to a location that isn’t in a club but in a dance studio or hotel ballroom. The music played is primarily for cross-body dancers, whether on1 or on2. The drinks are barely flowing, the dance floor is smooth and clean, the lights do not flash and it is rare to see more than one or two exaggerated dips or attempted acrobatics.

Moving from one type of event to the other, one would be excused for thinking that the salsa social is snobby. Indeed, the salsa social provides an appearance of order, not the least because everyone dances in a clearly delimited slot. The picture I painted above is very much one that extracts the order from the chaos, because to the outside observer, this typical salsa club presents an appearance of exactly that. Not so, with the salsa social. So long as there is sufficient room to walk around the dance floor, this venue is much easier to map out.

To begin with, there’s a hierarchy. Generally, the best dancers will be in one location, the beginners in another, and all of those in between, will also be neatly stratified in their appropriate dance floor sections as well. I read somewhere that this is because we like dancing with our friends and those of similar levels to us. We therefore congregate in the areas where we feel comfortable or where we might be able to grab the next dance partner of our choosing.

Or, as crazy dancing folk, we stand near the fans.

As a new entrant to a salsa social, it is therefore best to map out the geography of the dance floor before you move onto it, so that you can place yourself in the location that will guarantee you the best dances (all highly subjective of course).

So when, heaven forbid, the location of our favourite salsa social is moved, if only for one week, chaos ensues! What happens? Well no one knows where to dance anymore. The newbies and juniors never really understood the map anyway – they haven’t been around long enough and are still focusing on the 1-2-3 5-6-7 of it all. The advanced dancers no longer can find their preferred partners fast enough and end up lamenting the fact that no one appears to be there. And you get a terrible mix up on the dance floor where those who are doing triple spins are getting stepped on by those who are learning to execute their first shine (bless them!).

Dancers, like most people, are creatures of habit. Why else do you think they keep returning to the same places week after week? The salsa order must be maintained. Luckily, it’s a bit like the American Dream – if you’re driven enough, you can make your way all the way up the scale over time, learn all the necessary skills and hit whatever salsa nirvana might be for you. Teach, perform, start a dance school, organise events, design shoes – it’s all there for the taking!