This is me, dance addict, currently wallowing in Latin dancing, exploring Sydney’s Bachata, Zouk and Salsa dance floors. Previously Ballet, Jazz and Contemporary Dancer. I was born in Brazil and have been in Aussie land for five years now. This is my promised land and never before I had so much fun.
I hope you like my writing, my dancing, and my loving of life.
As a dream said to me the other day: “follow the fun”!
I have a theory that Bachata was conceived during the inquisition times as a means of torture when the Spanish in the Americas were trying to break people into confessing they were Witches and Warlocks.
They would say one of two things:
‘Hey! You two! Do you like each other?’
Male: ‘Yes.’
Female: ‘Yes.’
‘Ok, so this is what you are going to do: you are going to dance to this song, this way, one, two, three, hip… But you are going to do it close. Really close to each other.’
Male and Female: ‘Like this?’
‘Closer, now!’ The torturer instructs shouting. ‘If I see one sniff of air between the two of you, I’m going to cut your heads off!’
So the inquisitor would put this music on and make them dance.
Never mind about any turns or twists, patterns and any of the more elaborate stuff.
I’m talking about just the Bachata basics, that’s all.
After the dance that is when the torture would really begin. He would say:
‘Now, go to your cells. Separate cells, I said!’
I bet in ten minutes they would be begging for hellfire.
Now back to real life, I keep wondering why we do this to ourselves. This dancing thing, it is like the sweetest of all tortures.
You have these beautiful songs and your insides go all mushy, funny and all strange. Making you yearn for something you can’t describe or even understand what it is. I think it’s more addictive than any drug.
You keep going out on Tuesday, Wednesday & Sunday nights knowing that the next morning you have to wake up early and when you wake up you will be feeling like an animal hit by a truck and yet, there you are. Midnight long gone, you’ll dance just one more Bachata but walking to the car is close to impossible.
Every step makes you think you are going to your cell all alone with a pure bed of nails for you to rest on.
I used to think it was only the ladies that would get soft knees after one dance with a mythical creature like the Red Dragon or some other. But recently I heard from a reliable source that guys suffer just the same.
The other thing the inquisitor would say is – Do you like each other?
Male: ‘No.’
Female: ‘No.’
‘Ok, so this is what you are going to do: you are going to dance to this song, this way, one, two, three, hip… But you are going to do it close. Really close to each other.’
Male and Female: ‘Like this?’
‘Closer, now!’ The torturer instructs shouting. ‘If I see one sniff of air between the two of you, I’m going to cut your heads off!’
So the inquisitor would put this music on and make them dance.
That is, the basics steps. But it would be one of those endless songs. The fifteen minute one that is usually associated with Salsa.
The victims would truly confess everything, or maybe not. Because, even with someone you don’t much like, Bachata is still nice.
If you think Bachata is boring, I’m sorry to say, but you are not doing it the right way…
If you think Bachata is too close, too hot and too saucy, it’s ok, you’re doing it the right way. But you’re just not ready for it yet.
Followers have a huge advantage in this regard because Bachata is easier than other Latin rhythms; all we have to do is follow. Ladies that know their basics and dance with a proper Bachatero (rider or not) will get it straight away.
The Bachata dance itself can go two ways: The guy might get slapped at the end of the dance, or the lady might just melt away. By the end of one song, you will know it, all can change.
I am now quite used to such comments from ladies, “Oh, I don’t like Bachata. It’s boring.”
This usually occurs in the middle of a party or club. My job is so easy! I tell them:
‘See that guy right there? Ask him to dance. At the end of the song you come back and tell me what you think.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘No idea, we just call him the Red Dragon.’
The lady goes on her mission. After the Bachata song she comes back to me and says the exact same thing they all say….
‘You know what? I think I like Bachata.’
Of course on these particular missions I only send women who have enough self-assurance to not slap the guy at the end of the song… or in the middle… or right when he grabs her for a close dance. This is not a dance for the naive or beginners.
To come back to what I was saying before, girls can get all that there is to bachata in one song, not just the technique, or the steps, and surely the “not-boringness”.
The guy has a much harder job, he needs make it happen, even if he dances with a lady that knows how to do it, he might not get it first-off but that is one of the beauties of the couple dance. It’s all up to the guys. Ladies, we just follow.
To finish off, I know what you’re thinking… If you are a lady you’re thinking: “Who’s the Red Dragon?”
And guys you’re either thinking one of two things:
If you think Bachata is boring , you are thinking ‘What am I missing?’
If you love Bachata, you are thinking ‘Am I the Red Dragon?’
My advice on the guys on how to discover who the “Red Dragon” is, ask as many of us girls to dance Bachata as you can. Only a few of us have this precious information. And dance as well as you can.
Ladies! Don’t tell! We will get more and better dances this way! It may be that it is all a trick, then again maybe not.
I had so much fun performing with Tony Lara’s team at the Sydney International Bachata Festival 2009! The theme of the choreo and music is “Angels” and we looked very angelic indeed in our white costumes.
I was especially smiley because it was my “coming back” performance. After fracturing a bone (fell off a horse in January) I couldn’t do it at the Sydney Salsa Congress and I felt more than happy to have a chance to show months of training on stage.
Performing for me is a metaphysical experience, it’s a connection with major illuminating forces, with the Universe, with the mainstream Energy of life; Dressed as an Angel of all things, even more!
Although I have to tell you: those bachata angels are a bit naughty. My mom called and asked only one thing after seeing the video on Facebook:
‘Are Angels supposed to be sexy?’
To my fellow Angel Dancers: she thought we were very sexy, woohoo! After all, it is bachata!
So I was there smiling my teeth out to the public.
However, being there doesn’t give you the truth about of the whole group, you can only feel yourself and people right beside you.
I know my partner and I were ok, no mistakes, smiling to each other, he even remembered to look at me at the bachatango step, so all we were fine.
Then I saw the video, the whole group dancing, all six couples, and I went: WOW!
It is not a hard routine, it doesn’t have acrobatics and many hard‐funky steps. It was soft, and beautiful, and sexy, and lovely and we looked clean and oh so nice! It was such a surprise, because it was the first video I saw of the whole group and it impressed me, I was proud and happy to be part of it.
It is a very big deal for me, although, people that have done the same could say it is easy, anyone can write a book and upload it to be sold at Amazon. It isn’t hard.
However, the journey to have a book with a quality you feel is marketable is not so simple. It was a great adventure but a lot of work too.
It has been years and years I have been moving in this direction, doing things in order to get here. I feel I can allow myself to be proud of my achievement.
I have risked a lot, migrated, worked very hard, pursued never thought of avenues (such as doing a pastry course), to get to this point.
My expectations are only to change the world through my writing… do you think it is too huge a dream? Well, I believe in huge dreams and small miracles.
They say the world is going to end on 2012! According to the Mayan prophecies. Such good news! Now you have the perfect excuse to make all your dreams come true. Go crazy, risk, enjoy, change your life. Sure you have to be prepared in case the world doesn’t end, like leaving some reserves, keeping the properties and not going into debt. But other than that, you have to get at least a third of your dreams in life! Do all that you can for that, move, put the wheels of fortune in motion. You should steal a kiss from that gorgeous lady across the street, offer flowers to a stranger, make someone’s day, do something nuts, look someone different deeply into his or her eyes.
You could wear socks of different colours, create some funny little lies, belly dance on top of your work table… or howl to the moon. There are so many ways to transform a life into a daily adventure! If your day is too normal, do not take it! Life is to be enjoyed. An idea for the ladies is to go to the toilet and remove your underwear. If you are wearing skirts, even better. Go “al fresco” and feel that you have changed your life and no-one knows about it! You will laugh for nothing and feel very strange, but life got more adventurous and it didn’t cost you a thing.
Here is my advice for the New Year: one folly per day. I can think of so many!
Try black coffee, or one of those lollies only kids like, the ones that pop in your tongue or make it all purple.
Send a kiss to the ugliest man you see from the bus window.
Wave to a stranger and pretend you know the person.
Dress with strong coloured clothes that do not match at all and say you have a slight problem of colour-blindness.
Create new words and pretend they exist.
One of my friends who lived in Sydney as a student in one of the best English courses around used to mess what the locals thought of the Brazilian culture. When her homework was to talk about proverbs, she created completely new ones from her own mind some that no-one else would recognise.
I can’t remember exactly but it was something like this:
“Dead birds do not fly high” the explanation being that this was said to make people take risks.
Or “Lower than the table’s base there is only the floor” which would be used by mothers to teach the children that life needs structure…
She would spend the rest of the day laughing about her own creations and when she told us we laughed together.
In a Brazilian party here I found a friend teaching an Australian: “look, there is a really nice phrase you can use” and she would say in Portuguese, slowly, what actually meant “I am cra-zy”. My friend had this serious teacher’s face. I spoilt her fun when I started giggling and the guy realised there was something wrong…
So this is it, my advice for the New Year: daily doses of free adventure… take risks, use the pink shirt! Coral Pink for the guys, bright pink for the ladies… and add to your diary: laugh out loud at least once a day!
My whole team had used (and probably abused) our Angel’s costume at the Sydney Salsa Congress in January.
I hadn’t performed with them the first few times because of an injury. Therefore, I was the only one using the Angel thing for the first time.
It is a very, very, very (very, very) short, short, short dress. We bought it ready‐made and I am pretty sure it was one of those costume things suppose do be sold in adult shops.
Don’t get me wrong, it is a nice, pretty, costume. White and sexy, with a holly halo and sleeves that remind you of wings, the only “but” is that it feels shorter at the back.
If you join that fact to a Brazilian Bum (mine) you get to the only possible conclusion:
‘Huston, we have a problem!’
This situation reminded me of the time when I was a skinny ballet dancer, back in Brazil.
I was dieting to get even skinnier, and was going to be dancing in a white TUTU, those plate skirts ballerinas use. The dressmaker brought it to the dance school be tried on. She was an international dressmaker, used to make tutus to people from different countries and she used her normal mould to make ours.
She only overlooked one detail: Brazilian Bums, Bottoms, Behinds.
I think we were about ten young girls and we all got the dress tipped up, on the back.
We started dancing and most of the dresses got funny on our behinds. It’s like a hat that doesn’t sit right, a hat that shows your bum! We laughed and laughed because we could be as thin as a stick and it didn’t make any difference, the bum was always the last to diminish in size.
The woman was not happy to have to add a few inches at the back part of all our dresses to compensate for our uncooperative behinds. When we were trialling the tutus, dancing, at every jump, the tutus turned upside… up, ha ha, like the Australian umbrellas do in Sydney’s wind.
Back to the Angel’s dress, I already knew about my “rear” problem so I sewed the dress to my shorts.
I only realised it hadn’t been enough when someone I was talking to at the festival said: ‘Hi, I’ve seen you; you are the one who danced that choreo with the white shorts!’
Argh, it was supposed to be a white dress, not the shorts but ah well, I’m happy I had the shorts to keep me decent!
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