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Salsa without Music is like Nachos without Salsa

Written by 29 October 2009 No Comment

bier Salsa without Music is like Nachos without Salsa
MY PERSONAL OCTOBERFEST

I’ve always felt like a stranger at home. Ever since I went to Argentina for the first time, I had decided that deep in my heart, I am a porteña (that’s the name for the girls here). At home in Berlin most people think I’m crazy because I’m always smiling, I dance in the supermarket and sing with my eyes closed.
Average stuff in Buenos Aires.

After a typical Argentinean lunch in the sun (drinking beer like water, beef bigger than one of Michael Jordan’s shoes, and yes, the best meat in the world), I had my first private Salsa lesson. It was held at a strange-looking place, but I made it in and out in one piece.

Thank god I am a woman. I have the body of a real woman (serves as an excuse of course for being 15 pounds overweight), so naturally I’ve got that hidden talent and dance Salsa like a professional within 10 mintes. Shaking my butt and shoulders – easy breezy, done that many times. For a little additional motivation the instructor told me “from the way you dance Salsa, I can tell how good you are in bed” – honey, I can dance salsa all night long….
As soon as I was ready to dance my heart out, reality kicked in – no electricity. Sure enough that also meant no music. Salsa without Music is like Nachos without Salsa.
My brawny, fifty-year-old teacher Ray and his beautiful assistant needed half the lesson to fix that problem. After 30 minutes – halleluja – electricity was back up and running and I was ready to wiggle my hips so hard it would have made Shakira jealous.

5 minutes into the lesson, sweat ran all over my purple silk dress (next time I’ll just wear leggings) and for the very first time in my life I felt…German. Like a stone, no, worse: like those drunk tourists that you find in those hotels all along Mallorca’s main beach.

This time I was deeply grateful when electricity broke down again soon after. And I realized that it takes a lot more than a big ass heart to be a latina.
So right now my entire body aches and I have given up hope to turn into a better version of Baby from Dirty Dancing.

My next stop will be Columbia. And instead of throwing on my backpack and shouting lets go!, I’ll carefully search the internet for a safe (!!!) hotel. Instead of checking for the ultimate Columbian fiesta, I am much more interested in the number of security guards protecting me from outside the hotel or in how close the next police stations is. I mean, didn’t you hear that story about the two backpackers getting shot in the head? Or the other one where one got stabbed? ‘Urban legends’ you may think but I say ‘Safety first’! Mum would be proud.

Errrr…now wait a minute… Zoe? Is that still you? The same person who flew across the atlantic because she wanted adventure and excitement? Stop thinking and just go with the flow..
And I will. Right after I’ll have figured out how far that hotel is from the nearest police station.

warten Salsa without Music is like Nachos without Salsa
BIG STEREO NO MUSIC

*post written by Anna-Zoe Schmidt

pixel Salsa without Music is like Nachos without Salsa




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