As I travel around the world, I enjoy the opportunity to meet dancers of many experiences and backgrounds. In a Salsa nightclub you will find doctors, schoolteachers, bus drivers, plumbers, college students, computer programers and more, ranging in age from 8 years old to 80+. What is it about dancing that gives such a common pleasure to so many different types of people? It’s because dance is the universal equivocator. Rich or poor, young or older, if you can dance, you have the advantage over someone who does not. My passion for dance, like many men, was ignited by…a woman.
I remember like it was yesterday, Tallahassee, Florida, where I was studying Computer Information Systems at Florida A&M University. She worked at Gordos Cuban Restaurant, and had green eyes which always made me forget what I was supposed to order. All I knew was that I liked spending my time at Gordos, and while I was a vegetarian and the menu was 90% meat, I still spent most of my free time there. One day she asked me if I was going to come to the end of the year party at Gordos. Free party, all you can eat roast pork, free beer on tap and partying all night. I don’t eat pork. I don’t drink beer. But there was no way that I would be anywhere else but the Gordos Pig Roast on that day. I went with friends who were convinced by the FREE food, FREE drinks, FREE entrance (Hey, we were college students). There was Salsa and Merengue music playing, and people were eating, dancing and enjoying a beautiful day. That’s when it happened, the day I’ll never forget, she walked over to me, green eyes and a beautiful smile, grabbed my hands and said “Shaka, dance with me.”
(This is the part that we went out into the middle of the floor and danced until the sun rose. All the world could see that we were meant to be together. But that’s not quite what happened.)
My stomach dropped. My head went light. I had been dancing for years, I wasn’t afraid to go before thousands of people and dance with the FAMU Marching 100 band. I had taught dance in high school. But I had never done any type of partner dancing. What were the rules? How do they know when to turn? Where do you put your hands? So I looked her in the eyes, smiled and said “um…no.” I was hoping that she would say “OK, then lets stand here and talk while everyone else dances”, but that’s not what happened. Instead one of my friends said “I’ll dance with you” and they went off and danced, leaving me behind like the quarterback who’s thrown an intercepted pass. I was no longer a part of the equation. The game had left me behind. That was the day I decided that I was going to learn how to dance to this music.