Shaking it at Salsa

Shoes bought specially for Salsa

The range of sports on offer for students at Humboldt Uni is nothing short of impressive. For the ridiculously low price of 15-20 euros for around 10 lessons, you can sign yourself up for anything from basketball to irish dance, martial arts or handball. But there is a catch - the sign-up process takes place online only, and typically lasts around 2-3 minutes before all courses are full. I was crushed to miss out on Hip Hop and Streetdance (granted, my hip hop moves are already quite well honed and I probably didn't need this course anyway), but consoled by two reserved places in Cuban Salsa for Daniel and I, thanks to some deft clicking action on Daniel's part. I bought a pair of grandma-like very low heels to dance in and eagerly awaited our first lesson on Thursday evening, keen to expand my dancing repertoire beyond crumping and shimmying in da club.

Oddly, I experienced more difficulties with the moves than anticipated and for once, I don't think inferior German language skills can be used as an excuse. Rather, something inside me fundamentally rejected the idea that I couldn't lead the way and move freely, but instead had to rely on subtle shoulder movements from Daniel as to where I should move my feet. The first half hour of the class consisted of me treading on Daniel's toes and attempting to ignore feminist sensibilities that were offended by being manouvered back and forth and whirled around without notice. Daniel didn't respond well to my creative improvisations and was visibly enjoying his new position of power, demanding that I correct my "Haltung!" whenever my arms drooped slightly.

Things improved in last hour of the class, with Daniel switching to an encouraging tone and obligingly exaggerating his shoulder movements until I had the hang of where I had to shuffle my poor, confused feet. I started to enjoy not having to make the decisions about what to do next. We kept up with the other 20 couples in the room and invited minimal criticism from our long haired, slightly goofy teacher who gently taught us left from right, and reminded the males in the room not to spin the girls too vigorously, or we'd all end up dizzy. At the end of the class, we even signed up for the optional salsa practice party to take place at an unnamed location sometime soon. So it looks like we'll be shaking it at salsa on a very regular basis.