Sunday, January 23, 2011

Tonight we dance in Havana

posted 11/03/08

The plan for tonight: Take a salsa class at Havana Club.

Last night, walking near our hotel, we hear music. That sounds Cuban, I say. Then I see the sign: Havana Club. Explains it all. I have been trying to get SH to take salsa lessons with me for a long time. Now’s my chance: no football game on, no business travel, no karaoke.

We walk into the club. The music is great. I try to teach SH the basic steps, but I am a very bad dance teacher. He is accommodating, but it’s not as much fun dancing when neither party knows what’s going on. We leave. I have a conversation with the bouncer that sounds like this:

Me: Are there classes how to dance here?

Bouncer: Yes, tomorrow night there are.

Me: How much are they worth?

Bouncer: Six euros.

Me: Is it that the teacher speak English? My husband says that he cannot learn to dance in Spanish.

Bouncer: It is not necessary to speak Spanish for to dance!

Me: I am of accord.

Bouncer: The teacher of to dance is here. You could talk to him. He is the young man without hair.

Me: You mean Little Baldy?

Bouncer: Yes.

Me: I lived in Chile for two years. I know of the custom of naming people Baldy, Fatty, Blackie, Beer-belly.

Bouncer: That it is.

We go inside and find Baldy.

Me: Do you speak English? My husband has worry that he cannot learn how to dance in Spanish.

Teacher: Is not necessary to speak Spanish for to learn to dance! I have taught to many foreigners how to dance.

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