The Dance Recital

I have been remiss. In fact, I have been a Very Bad Wife. I forgot to bring my camera along for Keating's dance recital on Wednesday. I've been trying to stall about writing about it (I'm , like, really busy...yeah) until Keating can get a copy of the video from one of his classmates, but you'll just have to settle for a written description for now instead.

The dance recital included performances of traditional Mexican dances, the Cumbia (Colombian), some strange Brazilian dance, hip-hop, and a farcical skit that roughly 10% of the audience understood sufficiently to really enjoy (the rest of us were relieved that there was plenty of physical comedy that helped us to know when to laugh). I am suspicious that the choreographer for the traditional Mexican dances was a former member of Stomp -- the dancers, armed with heeled shoes that had had small nails pounded into the soles, managed to shake the small auditorium. In Keating's group, the girls took very seriously their direction to come dressed as sexy nurses, and wore the most amazing collection of white ultra-mini dresses that I think I have ever seen, paired with dizzyingly high, stripper-style stilettos. The men were in black button downs and jeans, with the last minute addition of red-markered gauze taped on their faces so that there might be some relation to the girls in the white minis and nurses caps. At the end of the song, the men formed a circle, picked the ladies up on their linked arms, and rotated in a circle. During the final rehearsal (roughly 30 second before the show and on the stage where we could watch), this last move was a real struggle. Half the nurses couldn't seem to settle themselves on the men's arms; one gave up entirely, and another was nearly launched off the stage, screaming all the way. Frankly, I'm a bit amazed that she didn't break an ankle when she landed in those shoes! For the actual performance, however, all went well and not one dancer was thrown into the audience. Keating was saved from his arm-twisting partner, who pulled out of the performance at the last minute and got to dance with one of the Russians instead. He did a wonderful job up there. His dance teacher has invited him to continue attending the salsa classes in the next 6 week term even though he won't be enrolled in the Spanish program at that time, and he has been pushing for us to go dancing this weekend.

Wednesday was also Keating's first day of teaching English. The program he teaches for is based around guided group conversations, and the first lesson was about appearances. In a crazy twist, the women in his class used the conversation to discuss their utter abhorrence of makeup. This is Mexico! The very same day, I actually watched a woman apply mascara for 8 stops on the metro (more than 20 minutes!), and she already had several layers of the stuff on before I boarded the train. (I must admit, after about 3 minutes I started watching in rapt fascination and timing her. Seriously -- how much could she put on??? Then again, her foundation was so heavy that it completely obscured her natural skin tone and made her look kind of creepy, like something out of a horror movie with flesh-eating diseases and stuff. I'm hoping that she was applying stage makeup for some other dance recital or something. She wasn't wearing stripper shoes, though.) Keating now teaches aver Wednesday and Friday morning and is looking to add more hours soon. So far, he really likes it. Then again, he doesn't wear any makeup.

In completely unrelated news, I finally have the dates for my first field work! *raucous cheering* I will be hiking (and possibly horseback riding to the less accessible parts) around the Tuxtla Volcanic Field in Veracruz March 2-7. Be jealous! Hopefully, the weather will be warm again by then -- it's been chilly enough this week that Keating decided to wear a suit today for the extra layers.

"Be my Kevin Bacon!"

Keating has been enjoying his salsa class and, according to some of his Korean classmates I met this weekend, is the best non-native-Mexican dancer in the group. Despite the terrified looks from some of his classmates when he suggested it, he is starting to itch to actually go out to a real salsa club and build on his skills. While his classmates may not be game for the adventure, Keating found an enthusiastic accomplice in one of our Spanish-speaking friends. Jorge, a Colombian architect married to my boss' daughter, is reputed to be an incredible dancer. (It may just be in our social circle, but there appears to be a lot of reverence for Colombia here. Within my hearing so far, the Colombians have been credited with being the best dancers, having the best sense of humor, and speaking the best Spanish in all of Latin America.) Jorge's wife, Monica, seems less than enthusiastic about the idea of going on a salsa dancing double date, since it turns out that she doesn't really like to dance. (Oh, sacred stereotypes! What is happening?? A man that likes dancing more than his wife? A Latina with little interest in dancing? What is the world coming to??) Keating's plan: get Jorge to teach him at least 20% of what he knows, thereby reenacting our own little version of Footloose. While I love that Keating is really getting into this, I don't ever need to hear "Be my Kevin Bacon!" from my husband's lips again. It makes me start looking around nervously for tractors.

King of the Prom

Since Keating doesn't speak Spanish (he studied French in high school...oops!) we decided that it would be a wise investment to sign him up for the 6 week intensive Spanish course offered at UNAM. In addition to the basic language class, he was asked to choose two cultural electives from a list of three options: pronunciation, salsa, and folk dancing. We're still trying to work out how "pronunciation" is a cultural elective as opposed to a kind of recitation section, but those were the options. Surveying the options, Keating decided that there were few forces on earth that would induce him to become a Mexican Folk Dancer. (The only real advantage to taking Folk Dance was that it would allow him to take the afternoon Pronunciation section, thereby giving him an extra hour of sleep in the morning. No small incentive considering our hour-long commute to school.) The result is that he has Pronunciation 8-9 M-F, Basic Spanish 1 9-12 M-F, and Salsa dancing 12-1 M-W.

Most of Keating's Salsa class is filled with students from Korea, Japan, and China, students who have had very little exposure to Latin music. Given his description, it sounds as though many of the male students have had very little exposure to dancing of any variety. Despite having a dancing edge on most of his class thanks to swing dancing and musical theater, poor Keating has been feeling incredibly awkward and self conscious: the reflections in the dance room mirrors highlight for him just how much bigger, and blonder, he is than his classmates. He insists that he feels like a lumbering giant looming over his classmates. On Wednesday, after a particularly grueling hour of learning the Electric Slide crosssed with what appears to be a dash of Jazzercize (yeah, I don't know why that's in a salsa class either, but the daily performances of what he's learned are a riot!), Keating felt like he was in need of a long break and a cold drink. As he gathered up his things to leave, one of the petite Korean girls in his class marched right up to him, looked him in the eye, and said in forceful (if broken) English:

Girl: "You. You're my partner now. You have grooooove."

Keating: (flabbergasted) "Uh, ok?"

And with that, the stunned Keating (who had felt like the elephant in the room) was crowned King of the Prom. He had been claimed, and in no uncertain terms. I think he'll enjoy Salsa class more now.

Now if I can just claim him back at the end of the class so that I can go dancing with him....