July: Orlando Salsa Congress 2009

There couldn’t have been more than 24 hours between when I unpacked my suitcase from my third trip in June and re-packed it for my first trip in July.  This time I was headed to Orlando for the Orlando Salsa Congress which took place over the 4^th of July weekend.  The Orlando Congress is produced by Born to Salsa and Salsa Heat Dance Studios. 

I had to make a choice about where I wanted to spend the 4^th of July because the Las Vegas Salsa Congress was held on the very same weekend.  I ended up choosing Orlando because I had already been to Vegas the previous year.  Also I thought Orlando would be more exciting to me since most of the local dancers who I see all the time were going to Vegas.  Plus, a friend of mine from the East Coast insisted that the Orlando Congress is one of the best and that I needed to check it out.

When I arrived at the Orlando airport that same friend, who I will call “Cesar,” was waiting there to give me a ride to the hotel, a condition we had agreed upon when he convinced me to attend the congress.  We had also talked about sharing a room, but I ended up making other plans that I thought would be cheaper.  Unfortunately those other plans fell through at the last minute and by then Cesar’s room was already more than full. 

Being a good friend, he gave me a place to get ready, but for the rest of the weekend I’d be on my own.  It was a little scary not knowing exactly where I was going to stay, but it wasn’t like I’d never been in this position before, so I didn’t let it get to me and just figured things would work out. 

By the time I was dressed and ready to go, I had already missed most of the Friday night performances but since I was on serious congress overload, I didn’t let that get to me either.  I ended up spending most of the time during the remaining performances socializing outside the ballroom anyway.  I re-connected with old congress friends and started getting to know some new ones.

Then it was time for social dancing.  The ballroom was set up very nicely.  There was definitely plenty of room for dancing both on the floor and the carpet.  The floor was good quality and the lighting was appropriate.  They even had a whole separate bachata room. 

All in all, the congress seemed to have a lot going for it… but for some reason I just wasn’t feeling it.  Once again, I chalked it up to congress overload.  I started to realize I was reaching my breaking point and complete burn out was not too far way.

Nonetheless, when the main rooms were shut down, I was ready for an after party (I don’t think I’ll ever burn out from after partying!).  One of Cesar’s biggest selling points on this congress was that it was supposed to have an official after party by the pool on Friday and Saturday nights, and that was something that I couldn’t miss. 

And I wouldn’t have missed it… except that it didn’t happen.

Instead, everyone started to gather in the hallway outside the ballroom.  There was music and some dancing for a little while, but the ambiance was definitely lacking.  I guess nobody else seemed to notice because the party continued right there well past my patience for it. 

I decided to call it a night on the early side, a little after 4am, but unfortunately I still had no place to stay.  I’m guessing most people would probably be a little freaked out at this point… well, I suppose most people would never even get to this point… but not me, for me this was all part of the adventure.

I first stopped by Cesar’s room and knocked lightly on the door so I could get to some of the stuff I had left in there.  But no one responded.  After trying a couple more times I decided to give up, not wanting to be that annoying person at congress that doesn’t allow anyone to get any sleep.  Just then, a familiar face came walking down the hall.  It was a guy I had met at LA congress this year and reunited with earlier in the night.

He asked me what I was doing standing in the hall and I explained my situation.  I was probably only half-way through explaining when I had already scored a place to sleep.  He was sharing one bed with a female friend and the other bed was occupied by a friend who apparently wasn’t much of the sharing type so I gladly took a nice cozy spot on the floor.

Despite being on the floor, I slept reasonably well (probably owe this to all the tequila I drank during the night) but nevertheless I was pretty lazy on Saturday morning.  Eventually I headed down to the pool but unfortunately a storm just barely beat me to it and I didn’t even make it outside.  As I was approaching the pool exit, a mob of people were rushing back in.  In the mob I found two guys I had met at Flava Invasion and we all decided to go to their room for drinks and wait until the rain stopped so we could go back to the pool. 

When I finally got outside, it was so hot I could barely move.  I really don’t understand this East Coast weather.  It’s boiling hot and at the same time storming even to the point of thunder and lighting.  Don’t understand it, but had to accept it.

So there was the rain, the heat, and then the fact that there was no DJ by the pool.  This really put a damper on the situation.  We had a large speaker and iPod so there was some music but even that, which wasn’t all that loud, became a problem for the security and we had to keep turning it down.

And on top of it all, I just wasn’t feeling a connection with the crowd.  This part really got to me as one of my favorite roles in life is the social butterfly but for some reason I kept finding myself alone and silent.

So have you noticed yet that I wasn’t too impressed with the Orlando Salsa Congress?  The social dancing was so-so, the after party was in a hallway, it was either storming or too hot, there was no DJ by the pool, and something was making this social butterfly regress to her cocoon. 

In my bored and lonely state, I spent some time trying to figure out if it was the congress itself or perhaps something about me.  Ultimately I came up with this: there were clearly some valid drawbacks; however, it seemed that most other people were having a pretty good time so that says I must have been contributing somehow. 

I tried to imagine how my experience would be different if I wasn’t on congress overload; if this was one of the few congresses I’d been to all year, with the same intense excitement that I used to have about congresses when they were new to me, and I decided that I’d probably have just been content to be sitting by the pool with a bunch of new, young, happy people. 

Looking around at all the smiling faces, I decided to blame only 25% of it on the congress and a whopping 75% of it on me.

There is no question this year has been quite an experience.  When I set my plan in motion, to attend one congress per month in 2009, I really had no idea what I was getting into.  I mean, I had no doubt that I was going to have a ton of fun, and I truly have, but what I didn’t anticipate was how much I would grow and change in deep and meaningful ways.  Now I love fun, don’t get me wrong, but when it really comes down to it we all know there is more to life.

If you’ve been following along from the beginning, you should by now have become very familiar with a young, spirited woman who is always down for a party wherever she can find it and who is very proud to identify herself as happily, and perhaps, eternally single.  In all honesty, the last few years, which I have spent mostly single, have been some of the best years of my entire life. 

The single life has a lot going for it.  You don’t have to answer to anyone, tell them where you are going, or be home at a certain time.  And it’s especially conducive to the social butterfly lifestyle as at least I myself notice I meet far more people when I’m not attached to someone in particular.

But as all of my friends predicted, I inevitably began to experience the tragic loneliness of drowning in that big black sea of shallow relationships.  I was reaching near 800 Facebook friends, who were almost all people I had truly met in person as I rarely accept someone I don’t know unless they are some sort of artist.  And I was trying to remain in contact with as many of them as possible, confusing our brief encounters for true friendship, when I finally was confronted with an ugly void of meaning and purpose.

It’s not that I wasn’t aware of all this while I was doing it, but I guess I just didn’t care.  In fact, for a while I found my social circle of almost 800 quite fulfilling.  And I’m not even sure when I changed my mind about that, or even if I completely have, but somewhere between Paris, Portland, Puebla and now Orlando, things just started to look a little different.

So that’s where I was at while sitting next to the pool, under the sun, watching all the young and happy people doing the congress thing. 

By now I’ve had enough experience in the congress scene to know that very few of the people that I would connect with on this trip would become much more than Facebook friends.  This has nothing to do with the quality of the people who were there, but everything to do with the quality of relationships one is able to make on a three day trip.  I began to question the value of trying to meet another 20, 30 or even 40 people as I typically would do in this situation.

And this revelation didn’t just apply to the congress scene.  Suddenly the whole glorified idea of the single life came into question.  It wasn’t that I was regretting the way I had lived my life or wishing it would be any different, because as I already said those were some of the best years of my life.  But it was more that I was feeling finally ready to do something different; to make a change; to enter a new stage.  Out of all my disappointment and negativity toward the congress, I experienced an incredibly exciting and refreshing turning point in my life.

In my future episodes you will get to hear more and more about this transformation.  If you were following my blog mostly for the sordid stories of late night after parties and secret meetings behind closed doors you may be a little disappointed.  Now it’s not that I’ve stopped partying because that’s certainly something that I’m not yet willing to give up!!!  But let’s just say the parties have gotten a little more PG.

Back to the Orlando Congress… Saturday night the performances grabbed my attention more than Friday, especially the last few which upped the ante with respect to creativity and energy.  However, the social dancing was just fine again.  I wasn’t super excited nor was I at all disappointed.

The after party once again took place in the hallway outside of the ballroom.  This time there was less dancing and more drinking.  If fact, a group of maybe 15 or 20 people stayed up quite late playing drinking games right there on the floor.  Maybe I would have enjoyed this if I was with a group of close friends, but even so I rarely sit around and drink just to get wasted.  Usually if I’m drinking it’s an enhancement to something else I am doing… like dancing or having a good conversation.

So I took off early and went to sleep in the same room as the night before.  The beds were still occupied but I was just happy to have somewhere to go and friendly, welcoming people to pass the time with. 

The next day was spent by the pool once again under the hot, blistering son.  It was Sunday and there were still quite a few people around so it was nice.  I still didn’t feel as social as I usually do so I just sat back and watched everyone else have fun.

Then there was Sunday night, which is often my favorite night of congress.  At this point I had no expectations as the rest of the congress didn’t go that great for me, so it was a nice surprise when they came through with an excellent Sunday night event. 

First there were some interesting performances and then there was one of the best Jack and Jill contests I have ever seen.  It was a pro-am Jack and Jill and all the participants had been invited to attend.  They threw in a whole bunch of twists by making them dance to hip-hop, reggaeton, banda, and all kinds of other music, and in the end did an amazing spontaneous tribute to the King of Pop, Michael Jackson, who had just recently passed away.  Look for it on YouTube, it is out of control.

They followed that up with social dancing and then we all said our goodbyes, and goodbye to the Orlando Salsa Congress 2009.

Next stop: the First Annual San Francisco International Bachata Festival from July 16^th to 20th.  Will you be there?  Or more importantly, will you be here?  Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.”  Viva la salsa!

June: Euroson Latino Puebla 2009

I spent the last weekend of June in Puebla, Mexico.  It was my third trip of the month, after Paris and Portland, and the thought of getting back on a plane was a bit disconcerting. 

On the other hand, I was very excited that, of all places, I was going back to Mexico!  The last time I had been in Mexico was for the Acapulco Salsa Congress in 2008.  If you read that episode, you know that I absolutely fell in love with the salsa scene over there… but you also know that it wasn’t love at first sight. 

My first couple days in Acapulco were not easy as I battled all kinds of obstacles to make my way into The Scene, but when I left I experienced one of my most painful congress withdrawals ever as, after making my way in, I had quickly grown attached to so many amazing people and talented dancers.  The worst part about it was that because of the visa situation it was unlikely that I’d be seeing most of my new friends again until the next time I was in Mexico. 

Thanks to Facebook and Hi5 (the more popular social networking site in Mexico), I managed to stay in touch with most of the people with whom I’d connected.  Then I found “Radio Shupon,” a Mexico-based online radio station on which a couple of the guys I had met were DJs.  They announce their listeners on the air as they chat with them on MSN Messenger and when they announced my name some people recognized it and asked them to get us in touch… the beauty of technology!

Seeing as my new connections managed to persist past the initial congress withdrawal, I quickly realized I couldn’t wait until the next Acapulco Congress to get back to Mexico.  So I made sure to tell each and every one of my new friends to let me know as soon as they heard of a good event.

Then one day I got the news… at the end of June in the city of Puebla there would be an event called Euroson Latino organized by Euritmia y Son Latino Academia de Baile.  The focus was a couples’ competition in which many of my new friends would be competing.  Like any other congress or festival there would also be performances, social dancing, and workshops.  And, as a special treat, they were bringing Italy’s world renowned dance troupe Tropical Gem to Mexico for the very first time.

Despite the fact that I had already planned a trip to Paris in June, it didn’t take long before I had my request in at work for the vacation time.  And as soon as that was approved I arranged my plane ticket.  In an effort to save money I bought a flight to Mexico City, figuring that I’d just hop on a bus the rest of the way to Puebla, which was only a 2 hour ride away.

But just as my plans were getting settled, that nasty swine flu popped up out of nowhere.  With my scheduled departure only a couple months away, the whole world was freaking out about the outbreak of H1N1 and the focus was on none other than my first destination, Mexico City. 

I may have flinched, maybe for a moment, but in all honesty I never really bought it.  Some called it a political scam and others chalked it up to global anxiety.  Perhaps there was even some reality to the whole ordeal, but regardless, it simply was not going to stop me from reuniting with one of my favorite salsa scenes in the world.

Then the big day arrived.  My flight was scheduled for 7:00am, which meant I needed to be at the airport at 5:00am, which meant I needed to leave my house at 4:00am and that meant… no sleep! 

I didn’t want to sleep through my alarm and miss my flight so instead I took a short nap the evening before and then stayed up all night.  I did some of my packing, killed a couple hours at our local Thursday night salsa hot spot until closing time, and then went home and finished my packing. 

I expected I’d catch up on the missed sleep between my four and a half hour flight to Mexico City and the two hour drive to Puebla… but unfortunately that wasn’t what happened.  With a kid kicking the back of my seat for the whole flight and a noisy bus ride to Puebla, I was left a cranky, sleep-deprived mess when I finally arrived at the Puebla bus station.

But at least I was in Mexico!  With no flu symptoms!  And I had VIP transportation waiting for me from a local friend that I met in Acapulco who had offered me a room in this home for the entire weekend. 

I knew all I needed to cure my crankiness was a few shots of tequila.  Typically I bring my own tequila to these events, but this time it wasn’t necessary as in Mexico the tequila is not only plentiful, but it’s also super cheap, even for something of decent quality.

I asked my friend to stop by a store on our way to his house so I could pick up a bottle but he had a better plan in mind.  He wanted to give me a true Mexican welcome. 

After I put my bags down, we went straight to his liquor cabinet where he pulled out a wooden box that was the home of two bottles of his personal favorite tequila, one reposado and one añejo.  I don’t remember what kind it was, just that it was definitely nothing I had ever seen before.  And unlike what I was used to drinking, it was certainly not meant to be taken by the shot.  No, no, this was a sip and savor tequila and that’s exactly what we did.

After catching up… or more accurately, just starting to get to know each other as when it comes to “congress friends” that often takes at least a few encounters, I went to my room so I could get ready. 

Then, on the way to the festival, we stopped by a store where I picked up a bottle of that other tequila; the kind that is meant to be taken by the shot, and right there in the parking lot I emptied it into a water bottle so I’d be ready to go when we arrived at the event.  Did I hear someone say ghetto?  I’d be the first to admit it, but you gotta’ do what you gotta’ do.

The event was being held at a downtown hotel.  The size of the ballroom was decent, but the dance floor was small and the rest of the space was crowded with tables.  I had already been told to not get my hopes up as these organizers were known for cutting corners (kinda’ like I was with my “water” bottle).

Having exhausted all their money on the flights, food, lodging and paycheck of the six members of Tropical Gem, there was little left to spend on the event itself.  This was later confirmed when we saw that in addition to being small, the dance floor was of very poor quality, as were many of the performances that took place throughout the weekend.

The semi-finals of the competition opened the night.  There seemed to be at least 20 couples in the semi-finals, with experience ranging from beginner to advanced.  I found it strange that a competition of this size wouldn’t separate the amateurs from the professionals.  It just seemed unfair, and even an embarrassment to some of the amateurs.

Nonetheless I enjoyed watching the competition.  In fact, I enjoyed it far more than I’ve enjoyed watching non-competitive performances these days.  Having been on this world salsa tour for over six months now, there’s no question I've been beyond satiated when it comes to performances and the more I see, the more mundane and predictable they get. 

But a competition gives a performance a different edge.  In a competition, you are not only attending to the overall presentation but, almost more importantly, you are focusing on its execution; watching for any indication of a missed step, imperfect timing, or failed trick, and all of that adds to the excitement.

But what I enjoyed even more than the competition, of course, was running into all my old friends from Acapulco.  It seemed like everyone was there until one of my friends told me that the crowd was actually a poor representation of the salsa scene in Mexico because, knowing the past record of these organizers, many dancers had expected a disappointing event and decided not to come. 

His reality check didn’t stop me from seeing the glass half full as I was just happy to reunite with all the people that were there.

After the competition they opened the floor to social dancing.  That’s when we discovered that not only was the floor small, but it was a total disaster.  First of all, it was way too slippery and second of all, the pieces were separating, leaving numerous gaps all over the place.  

Luckily the carpet was quite comfortable to dance on so that’s where I stayed for most of the night, dancing with all my Acapulco favorites, and was once again incredibly impressed by the amazing talent in Mexico. 

As a bonus, there was plenty of eye candy too!  Beautiful, dark, young men, so perfectly “metrosexual,” everywhere you looked.

They took a break in the social dancing for a set performances which, as I said before, were nothing to write home about, except those by Tropical Gem and maybe a few others, like the quebradita performances that were actually quite a treat with their daring flips and tricks that sent the girls flying in the air.

In an attempt to increase the excitement during the performances, I snuck my “water” bottle into the ballroom and started passing it around to anyone who seemed interested (you can always count on me to bring the party up a notch).  But the performances ended up going on forever and, despite my own personal buzz, I still got bored.

It was even a bit hard to get back into it when the social dancing started again as the boredom put a strain on my mood but what happened at the very end of the night brought my spirits right back up.  First the guys got on the floor and started doing crazy shines and then it was the girls’ turn.  While the girls did their thing, they guys crowded around on the floor in front of them, dramatically watching them with awe-struck expressions.  Then the guys got back up and started dancing with one another.  Their following skills were quite impressive actually, especially the ones with the more flamboyant arm styling.

I was having a blast.  I chose not to participate myself but simply enjoyed the spontaneity of it all.  At that moment I realized that one reason I was so drawn to this salsa scene was its sense of community.  Most Mexican dancers are rarely able to leave Mexico because it is so difficult to get a visa, but nothing will keep them away from a good party in their country.  So even though they may live thousands of miles apart, they have developed close relationships based on numerous festival encounters. 

Another thing is they love to have a good time.  They work hard and party hard so you get both a high quality of dancing AND really great after-parties.  Knowing this, when the event ended at 4am I was sure we were going to continue the party somewhere else.  I found a group of people who seemed to be my best lead and decided to join them.  They told me they just needed to stop for food along the way.

We were quite a sight walking in to the all night taqueria in our slick congress gear… ok, maybe I’m making it sound a bit too glamorous.  All I know is I got tons of stares.  However, it probably wasn’t my dress that called attention to me but what little of it there was.  Congress gear quite often is not the most appropriate street gear, and especially not the most appropriate taqueria at 5am gear.

After making our way through the 100+ item menu, the most popular order of the night was something they called “the gringa.”  I had a lot of fun with that one, as I was the only “gringa” at the table and, in fact, one of the few attending the event. 

With the orders already placed, I took a look around the table and realized this meal was going to put an end to any chance I had for an after-party.  I advised the guys sitting nearest me that food was a bad idea and suggested that we have them pack ours to go and return to the car to finish off my tequila while everyone else drowned their party energy in tacos.  But they insisted that they were stronger than that, that I didn’t know them, but they were party animals and no little taco was going to stop them.

Well not surprisingly those big, strong party animals turned into sleepy little party cubs after the meal and everyone decided to go home.  At least I got to say, “I told you so”… which is always fun. 

I woke up late on Saturday morning and after bumming around the house for a while my friend and I went out to eat.  Even though I had slept in, I couldn’t avoid the food coma that put me right back in bed for a nice afternoon nap.  All in all, it was a much-needed lazy Saturday. 

Before I knew it though, it was already time to get ready for night #2!  This time our tequila stop included the purchase of an additional bottle of mezcal.  I was intent on making sure the after-party not only happened this night, but that it happened right.

When we arrived at the hotel the ballroom was already packed.  There were probably twice as many people as the night before.  And that meant I’d be seeing even more of my Acapulco friends.

First on the schedule was the finals competition.  Just like in the Gemini Salsa Competition (see previous Episode), all of the competitors really stepped it up a notch for the finals.  But there was still a range of skill level, with a few couples truly standing out above the rest.

In the end, the top three couples were all people I highly respect and admire and I was so pleased I was there to support and congratulate them in person.  Taking first place was David Zepeda from Puebla and Paulina Posadas Dagio from Morelia.  I had met both of them in Acapulco, but Paulina also recently spent some time training here in the San Francisco Bay Area. 

Second place went to Ernesto Lopez Nuñez and Maritza Gonzalez from Chiapas.  I had met both of these very sweet young dancers in Acapulco, as well.  And in third place was Jorge Martinez and Lupita Garcia from Oaxaca, a couple that many of us in the Bay Area hold very dear as they spent a great deal of time both training and teaching here.

Once again the competition was followed by open dancing, performances, and then more open dancing.  Like Friday, the quality of the performances was representative of the money invested by the organizers.  In other words, the Tropical Gem performances were among the few that were worth watching. 

But unlike Friday, even when I was dancing on the carpet, I wasn’t really enjoying myself, mostly because the band that played Saturday night didn’t stop to take the dancers into consideration.  I mean, it’s not uncommon for band songs to be too long or occasionally too fast but this band’s specialty was long and fast.  In fact, I don’t think they knew how to do anything else.  A couple minutes into each song I was exhausted and after a couple songs I just gave up.

The DJ played at the end of the night, but by that point I was already bummed out about the band, the floor that had completely fallen apart, and the disappointing performances that went on forever, and I was itching to bust out my bottle of mezcal at the after-party.

The only thing that saved the event itself was a repeat of the spontaneous playfulness that brought the night to a close.  Once again, the guys started out with their shines.  Then they got in a line and invited the ladies to line up in front of them.  One leader from the end of the line paired with one follower from the end of the other line and they danced together down the path between the two lines.  The next pair followed them, and then the next, and so on.  Like the night before, I stayed on the sidelines and just enjoyed the entertainment.

While all this was going on, the DJ started announcing the after-party over the loud speaker!  Someone had offered his house for the party and allowed this information to be broadcast to the world!  I couldn’t be happier.

The house was a bit of a drive from the hotel which meant we lost quite a few people along the way, but there were plenty left over to make for a decent party.  I immediately whipped out my bottle of mezcal and they made an announcement that the gringa had brought a gift for everyone.  But I was quite surprised to find out that the gringa was one of very few people who were willing to drink it.  And that meant I had a huge task ahead of me if I wanted to see someone eat the worm at the bottom of the bottle before the party was over.

It only took a couple shots to realize there was no way we were getting to that worm but at that point I was too wasted to care.

We spent the next 5 hours or so dancing.  That’s another thing I love about salsa in Mexico.  They never stop dancing.  We danced salsa, cha cha, bachata and whatever else they put on.  We tried salsa On 1, 2, 5 and 6 and then we tried to figure out what On 3, 4, 7, and 8 might look like.

The night finally came to a close around 11:00am as we finished off our breakfast at a local restaurant.  We must have looked like a total mess.  It was clear that everyone else in the place had just woken up, had a nice shower, and was ready to start the day.  We, on the hand, were sporting our “inappropriate” clothing, sloppy hair styles and red, droopy eyes.  I suppose it was just another one of my many Walks of Shame and evidence that once again Mexico did not let me down.

Next stop: the Orlando Salsa Congress from July 3^rd to July 5^th.  Will you be there?  Or more importantly, will you be here?  Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.”  Viva la salsa!

June: Gemini Salsa Competition 2009

As soon as the plane hit American soil, ending my big adventure in Paris (see the previous episode), I turned on my phone and received a text from a friend asking if I’d like to go to the Gemini Salsa Competition in Portland, Oregon. 

It was Tuesday afternoon, and the competition was going to start on Friday night.  After four straight nights of very little sleep, “no” would probably have been the rational answer… but the Secret Salsera tends to not be very rational when faced with this kind of temptation.

Plus, the text caught me at exactly the right time.  I was just waking up from a very long nap on my 8 hour flight from Paris to Chicago.  Plus, I was looking forward to 4 more hours of rest on my way to San Francisco and a full night of sleep when I got home.  I figured I’d be in good shape as soon as Wednesday morning so taking a trip on Friday wasn’t out of the question.

Also, I had been thinking about going to this competition before I left for Paris, but decided against it when I found out that the cheapest flight was going to cost me $175 in each direction.  This, however, was no longer an issue as one of my friends was planning to drive and was offering me a space in his car in exchange for helping with some of the driving and gas.  It was too late to request Friday off of work, so I’d have to fly one-way to Portland, but he said I could still join them on the way back.

So it was settled… I would squeeze in the Gemini Salsa Competition, between the other two events I had already planned for June.  And that meant I needed to act fast… buy my one-way ticket to Portland, unpack, pack again, and take care of any personal business that needed attending to… you know, the stuff you usually take care of on weekends like cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and paying bills, except that I had to do it all during my regular work week… this jetsetter lifestyle may be fun, but it’s certainly not easy!

Somehow I managed to get it all done and that Friday, immediately after work, I drove myself straight to the airport and made it to my gate just as they were calling my boarding group.  I ended up getting chatty with the two young guys sitting next to me on the plane, hoping that I might be able to score a much-needed ride downtown to the Tiffany Center, where the event was being held, when we arrived in Portland. 

And my plan worked!  One of the guys was being picked up by a friend who would be taking him bar-hopping downtown.  He made a quick phone call to see if his friend was cool with my hitching a ride and let me know I was good to go! 

I was so proud of my craftiness until just before stepping into the car the guy asked how I could be sure he wasn’t a murderer… it was kind of creepy, but sometimes you gotta’ take a few risks in life to keep it exciting… and I’m all about excitement!

As it turned out he was not a murderer but a very nice guy who hooked me up with door to door service and I arrived just on time for the amateur level competition.  Before I could let anyone see me, however, I had to get out of my work clothes and into one of my sexy congress dresses, so I ran straight to the bathroom.  That’s when I realized that I forgot to bring my trusty safety pins… and without safety pins my sexy congress dress would quickly turn into a very sexy congress shirt once I started dancing. 

But with the competition already underway, I had no time to worry about it, so I talked the very nice girls at the reception table into letting me leave my bags with them, held on tight to the bottom of my dress and made it to the ballroom by the end of the first performance. 

Right away I spotted one of my SF Bay Area friends and he invited me to sit at his table.  In exchange, I offered him some of the tequila I had snuck in, imported all the way from San Francisco… I always come prepared. 

I managed to see the remaining four amateur couples compete.  Overall their performances ranged in quality, but two of them clearly stood out as the leaders.  They were Rodney Graham and Neena Dass from the SF Bay Area (no bias here, honest!) and Lindsay Wells and Jesse Jarvis from Oregon. 

After the amateur competition there were a few performances, during which I got kind of distracted (as I usually do during performances these days).  So I ran out to my bag for more tequila so that I could share with the rest of the table and get the party started.  When I got back to my seat and turned around to offer the tequila to everyone, I looked down at the table and out of nowhere a safety pin had appeared.  I couldn’t believe it! 

Between scoring a ride from Portland to San Francisco and then another ride from the Portland airport to downtown, and then, after all that, finding a safety pin that had appeared out of thin air… I have to say sometimes my life just seems so magical.  I pinned one side of my dress but knew I’d have to find another one or the dancing would still be a disaster.

Then the professional competition started.  There were four performances, again ranging in quality, again with two clear leaders, and again, not surprisingly, an SF Bay Area couple, Enrique Jarquin and Elly Guadarrama, came out on top.  What impressed me the most about Enrique and Elly’s performance was how they avoided unnecessary flips and tricks, wowing the audience with their sharp musicality and sensual body movement.  The other leading couple was Eduardo Aguirre and Heather Gervais from Seattle, also very strong although stylistically very different.

While there was nothing surprising about how the competition unfolded, what was surprising was that while I was watching it a second safety pin magically appeared on the table.  Really, I’m not making this up.  I mean come on, if I was going to make something up, I’d obviously come up with something better than magic safety pins.  But I have to say at the time I thought it was pretty cool.  It’s this kind of magic that makes all this jetsetting manageable.

With my dressed pinned in place, I was hoping the next thing I’d find on the magic table was a big wad of cash to help me pay for all my travels… but unfortunately my wish did not come true so I moved to the dance floor.  I made sure I got to dance with each of my Seattle and Portland congress friends at least once and also spent some time socializing.  It was fun, but overall it was just a good night, not spectacular.  As I go to more and more of these events, I’m realizing ‘good but not spectacular’ is pretty typical of the first night, and frequently has nothing to do with how good the second night will be, so I was still looking forward to Saturday.

When the open dancing came to a close, I briefly checked around for an after party but it didn’t seem like anything was going on so I decided instead to get some much needed rest and save my energy for whatever was to come. 

I started Saturday off by reuniting with a local non-salsa friend, “Ayana,” who I had met a couple years before in Korea when my best non-salsa friend, “Layla,” was teaching English there.  It was only a month or so after I started dancing and I was already deep into my salsa addiction, so being in Korea was quite a challenge.  Although the capital, Seoul, is said to have a pretty decent salsa scene, we were in Busan, South Korea’s second largest metropolis, and even after a great deal of effort, I ended up finding only one salsa night.

Unable to satisfy my salsa addiction, Layla and Ayana, who was also teaching English at the time, were charged with the task of ensuring I was well-entertained.  Being party animals themselves, this task was no sweat and over the four weeks I was there we spent many a drunken night together.

Boozing was one thing Ayana and I definitely had in common, so when I made plans to meet up with her in Portland I was sure that some day-drinking was going to be on the agenda.  She picked me up at the Tiffany Center and we headed over to the Eastside, her favorite part of Portland. 

The Eastside has won itself the title “Best Place to People Watch” in Portland and I certainly found out why.  Most of the bars have outdoor seating and since it was a nice day (for Portland, at least – mid 60’s, cloudy but not raining) we chose to sit outside.  While sitting at the first bar we watched a group of typical Portland hipsters in their skinny jeans, converse and tight hoodie sweatshirts hanging out on the street corner and enjoying their Saturday afternoon.  While sitting at the second bar we watched a guy with the tallest, spikiest Mohawk I’ve ever seen skate around a parking lot across the street.  Then, while sitting at the third bar, a guy rode by us on a bike wearing a full-on Viking costume.  We never made it to a fourth bar because by that time I could barely see anything but a blurry mess so instead she just dropped me back at the Tiffany Center.

 Once again I had to use the public bathroom to get into my evening attire but this time it went smoother because no safety pins were required.  So I skipped the magic table and headed straight to the bar to keep the party going during the finals competition.

This competition was quite different than the first.  All of the couples really gave it their all and it paid off because the performances were far cleaner than the night before.  I was especially surprised by the drastic improvement of the underdog teams.  Nonetheless, according to audience cheer, the leaders at both levels didn’t change and that meant the two SF Bay Area teams had kicked some butt! 

And the results proved it.  At the amateur level, Rodney and Neena took second place and Jesse and Lindsay took first.  At the professional level, Eduardo and Heather took second place and my personal favorites, Enrique and Elly, walked away as champions.  Overall the San Francisco Bay Area definitely made me proud!

At the end of the competition, we enjoyed a closing performance by Ricardo and Viviana, ESPN World Salsa Champions who had come all the way from Cali, Colombia.  They danced Colombian Cabaret style which meant incredibly fast footwork and mind-blowing tricks.  It’s always a treat to watch Cabaret when it’s done well.

After the performance I went to congratulate all the winners and then returned to the ballroom for open dancing.  There were quite a few more people Saturday than Friday and that meant quite a few more dances so I had a good time… but, as usual, it was the after party that really made my weekend. 

The organizers had arranged an official after party in a local club and that’s where I did most of my dancing.  In fact, I think I danced almost every song.  By the end I was absolutely exhausted and couldn’t wait to crash out.  In fact, I was so burnt out I even turned down an inviting offer to an after after party.

Sunday was a lazy day.  I packed up my stuff and took my time getting over to the Tiffany Center where my Bay Area friends would be picking me up for the drive back to San Francisco.  While I was waiting for them I got to sit in on Albert Torres’ History of Salsa workshop which was actually quite interesting.  Through his narrative he brings you on a journey starting from salsa’s early roots all the way to contemporary times, illustrating each era by playing some of its most characteristic songs.

Eventually my friends showed up and we headed out, making a quick stop at the Portland Gay Pride Festival on the way.  And then many, many, too many hours later, we were finally home.  I was able to sneak in a few hours of sleep but then it was back to work as usual.

Next stop: Euroson Latino with Tropical Gem in Puebla, Mexico from June 26^th to June 27^th.  Will you be there?  Or more importantly, will you be here?  Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.”  Viva la salsa!

June: Paris Mambo Festival 2009

I must apologize for taking so long to make this post but I got a little carried away in June and didn’t have much time or energy for writing.  My initial plan before I started this year-long tour of major salsa events around the world was to attend one event per month.  In April I had already increased that to two (Reno Dance Sensation and Atlanta Flava Invasion), and in June I bumped it up to three starting with the Mambo Festival in Paris, France from June 5th to 7th, followed by the Gemini Salsa Competition in Portland, Oregon the very next weekend, and then Euroson Latino in Puebla, Mexico at the end of the month.

In addition to planning to go to one event per month, I set a goal to attend at least one event in Europe and somehow the Paris Mambo Festival, organized by the Yambu Dance Company, ended up being my European event. 

When I told non-dancers that I was going to Paris to dance salsa they were very excited that I was going to Paris but also very surprised that I was going there to dance salsa.  The dancers, on the other hand, needed less explanation.  First of all, salseros know that there is salsa all over the world and second of all, those salseros who have ever danced with a Parisian know that there must be good salsa in Paris. 

Still, I suppose it is a bit far to travel just for salsa, particularly for someone who doesn’t perform or teach and considering there are so many great places for dancing much closer to home.  From San Francisco, Paris was a 4 hour flight followed by an 8 hour flight away so from my house to my lodging in Paris I’d be traveling almost a whole day… but as I said I was intent on checking out at least one event in Europe so it was all part of the plan.

I don’t remember exactly how I chose the Paris Mambo Festival except that it fit into my schedule, I was able to book a free flight with my credit card miles, and I had enjoyed my dances with French dancers at other events.  I also figured that an event in Paris would attract dancers from other parts of Europe and the world. 

So I braved the 12 hours of flying with a good book (I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell by Tucker Max), a movie (He’s Just Not That Into You), and a bottle of melatonin.  I had been to Paris before so I expected that I’d be more focused on checking out the local Salsa Scene and the festival than touring, but I was open to whatever was going to happen.  I also figured touring would be difficult since I’d be unlikely to fully get over my jet-lag before the week was over, so instead of even trying to fight the jet-leg I could just plan on sleeping during the day and staying awake at night, which is what I typically do at these salsa events anyway.

In the last few days before the event I could barely hold in the excitement.  This was my biggest trip yet on my tour of salsa around the world and, in general, the biggest trip I had taken since I went backpacking around Europe in my early 20s.  I got as much sleep as I could the weekend before (one of the few weekends these days that I wasn’t traveling), knowing that I’d get very little sleep on the trip.

During the week I packed almost my entire closet, not knowing much about the style over there and what I’d want to wear.  My salsa attire has evolved over the couple years that I’ve been dancing.  When I started out I didn’t really want to be noticed so I purposely chose very plain clothes, like jeans and a simple black shirt.  Then I went through the black-red phase when I thought that as long as I was wearing either black or red I was totally in salsa fashion.  In those early phases, I refused to wear dresses because I believed wearing a dress somehow suggested that I was, or thought I was, a good dancer, and I didn’t feel I had yet earned that honor.

But there came the time when I decided that I was good enough to wear a dress.  Coincidentally, it was around the same time that I was being told over and over again that my wardrobe was boring and I needed to get some sexier clothes.  I started with what I would call “pretty dresses” as opposed to “hot dresses”… you know, a little looser, a little longer, with flowers or other simple prints.  Nonetheless, the change certainly gained me a lot more attention and that meant a lot more dances. 

At the same time I was going to more salsa events and also spending a great deal of time in LA so I was being exposed to all kinds of salsa fashion.  I quickly realized the “pretty dresses” were just not gonna’ cut it anymore and I moved on to the “hot dresses”… tighter and shorter with some sort of edgy style.  I also experimented with short shorts, creatively styled shirts, and a wider range of colors.  This is where I really came into my own and the attention increased exponentially (did you forget how much I love attention?).

It’s interesting to note that some dancers will actually go in the opposite direction, especially in the San Francisco Bay Area, where as they get better, their style gets more casual.  They decide that it’s not their clothes but their talent that they want to show off and will even come out in jeans and a simple t-shirt.  What I’ve also found is that there is a time and place for every style… so I wear my very best to congresses, something average to a club, and my most casual to the dance team socials.

Having no idea what I might need in Paris, I just packed a little of everything, and that meant I’d be lugging around a very large wheeled duffle bag along with my two “personal items.”  I was slightly regretting this decision as I braved the public transportation to my first destination in Paris, the apartment of a local named “Augustin,” who I had met at a previous congress.

After setting my stuff down, we spent some time catching up and then I started to grill him about the local salsa scene.  I was disappointed to find out that Wednesday, which would be my first night in Paris, was not a big night for salsa, particularly for the “Porto” dancers. 

Paris has a big Cuban salsa scene but they also have a big scene for the other style, the one I dance, which they call “Porto.”  In the US, I have heard multiple names for “Porto” style.  For example, it is sometimes referred to by its specific sub-style such as “New York On 2 Salsa” or “Los Angeles On 1 Salsa” and it is also sometimes incorrectly called “ballroom salsa.”  The two styles (Cuban and “Porto”) are different with respect to both the style of music and the way they are danced.  Most dancers in the U.S. (and probably most places in the world) have a strong preference for one style or the other and some even have a strong opinion about which is better. 

Personally, I try to stay away from the debate about whether one is better than the other, but there’s no question my preferred style to dance is “Porto.”  So when Augustin told me he only knew of a Cuban option on Wednesday nights, I said I’d rather stay home.  Then he called a friend who told him there was actually one place to dance “Porto” and so we decided to check it out.

Not knowing what to expect, I chose a somewhat casual but pretty outfit and we headed over to a placed called ‘Bubble.’  I was looking forward to my first taste of the Paris Salsa Scene and was especially excited to check out a new “buffet.”

A friend of mine who has about a year on me in The Salsa Scene once compared dating among salseros to eating at a buffet.  The first time you go to a new buffet, everything is exciting and you want to try so many different items.  You may even return for seconds or thirds, but soon enough, if you are always eating from the same buffet, the food will get boring and unappetizing.  Well, the same thing happens with salseros.  When you first get into The Scene, there are so many exciting people to meet, but after a while you realize that it never changes… you are seeing the same people all of the time and there is very rarely anyone new to spark your interest.

I have dealt with this reality by leaving my local salsa scene as much as possible and meeting people from all over the place.  But having already made multiple trips down to Los Angeles in addition to attending most major West Coast events, I was once again in need of a new buffet.  So then I hit up the East Coast (Atlanta’s Flava Invasion) to where I’ll be returning for seconds, thirds, and fourths later on this year (Orlando Salsa Congress, New York Salsa Congress, and the Philadelphia SalsaFest).  But the Parisian buffet would be entirely new to me!

When we arrived at Bubble, we were surprised to see a tiny little bar.  Confused, we paused outside the door until someone walked out and asked us if we’d like to dance some salsa.  Well, of course we’d like to dance some salsa!  What we found when we walked in, though, was a little intimidating.  The dance floor was only big enough for two or three couples… and the two that were dancing at that moment were amazing.

The thing about France is that the dancers dedicate a great deal of time and energy to training and as a result they learn very quickly.  I have heard some non-French dancers comment that because of their intense technical training French dancers are better on the stage than they are on the social dance floor and also that French performances, although very precise with respect to technique, lack “sabor” or “flavor.”  I myself loved the social dancing so I’d have to disagree with some of those comments, but everyone is entitled to their opinion.

What I loved most about social dancing in France is that each lead seemed to have his own unique style.  Here in the San Francisco Bay Area, if a dancer is “trained” it is usually pretty easy to tell where they got their training.  You can dance with someone and say, that’s definitely a Salsamania dancer or that’s definitely a Mambo Romero dancer.  That’s because the majority of the highly trained dancers in the U.S. got most of their training on a troupe’s training team.

Since these training teams tend to be very intensive, they are one of the best ways to make quick progress.  But the problem with being trained on a training team is that you often end up dancing just like the instructor… as a performer, this is a good thing, but as a social dancer, it is usually considered more desirable to have your own unique style.

In Paris, dancers train with their dance troupe, if they are on one, but they also usually get a great deal of their training at a salsa school.  These schools offer classes in multiple types and styles of salsa as well as other dances and classes are taught by multiple instructors.  You can pay by the class or you can purchase an unlimited monthly pass and take as many classes as you want. 

So in Paris it is quite common to have received intensive, ongoing training by multiple different instructors.  This avoids the “cookie cutter effect” that is so common on training teams.  Because they are taught by multiple instructors, they can take what they like from each and leave the rest, resulting in their own unique combination of styles.

Back to my experience at Bubble, after getting over the initial shock of the small space and overwhelming talent, I accepted an invitation to dance… knowing that all eyes, at least those of the leaders, were checking out the new girl to see if she could handle her stuff.  I guess I did alright because after that I barely sat down. 

It’s always fun to be the new girl in a salsa scene… there is no question that I dance more on my first couple nights in a new city than on any night at home.  And by the time the bar was closing all of my anxiety was completely washed away as I had already made at least 20 new friends who I anticipated would help me ease into all of the other new situations that I was about to experience.

Being my usual self (you can take the girl out of the after party but not the after party out of the girl… or something like that…), I checked around briefly to see if anyone was down to keep the party going but as it was Wednesday, the locals all had work the next day and I had to accept the fact that the night was over.  So I opted instead for a decent night’s sleep.

Getting sleep was probably a good choice since I had lunch plans for the following day with a European salsa “superstar” who I had met at a different event a while back, and who was also in town for the festival.  If you’ve been following my whole story, you know that I have a soft spot for salsa superstars.  Who doesn’t, I guess, but mine’s especially soft.  And it’s kind of funny, because I’ve never been one to get excited about seeing a movie or TV star… but when it comes to salsa, I have to admit I am TOTALLY starstruck. 

Since I had brought my whole entire closet, I tried on about 5 or 6 outfits before finally deciding what to wear.  This was also very unlike me as all of my friends know I can usually get ready in less than 15 minutes.  I don’t wear make-up or do much to my hair, maybe because I never really learned how to do those things but also because it just wasn’t important or necessary where I grew up.  Plus, I like to be able to get ready quickly and wherever I am (in a car, a bathroom, etc.).  In fact, I believe my simplicity is a big part of the reason I am able to do this much traveling so I wouldn’t want to be any other way.

Eventually I decided on an outfit and went to meet my superstar.  Luckily all my effort did not go unreciprocated as he too looked very sharp.  We ended up at a quaint little Parisian bistro.  He was a gentleman all the way through making our order but then in true ‘Mr. Important’ superstar form, his attention was suddenly distracted.  During the lunch he started to get call after call about some supposed “emergency” among his dancers and he insisted, apologetically of course, that he could not wait to respond. 

I was slightly disappointed but content with the fact that I got lunch, a refreshing kir royale, and something to pass the time so that I wasn’t wandering the streets alone in Paris, so I decided to not make a big deal about it.  After lunch we said goodbye and he let me know that if things settled down he might be seeing me later, but of course I knew that was a long shot.  Lucky for me, I have managed to never let my heart get involved in these superstar encounters.  They are merely little adventures along this amazing journey and nothing more.

I spent the rest of the afternoon, while Augustin was at work, just relaxing and Facebooking (one of my favorite pastimes).  Although I felt moments of guilt about doing what I could be doing at home while I was in Paris, I paid no attention as they were literally only moments.  As I already explained, I had been to Paris before so I wasn’t too concerned about touring around.  And even when I was backpacking around the world, I never enjoyed the site-seeing as much as I enjoyed meeting local people and experiencing their local lifestyle. 

So this time in Paris, the only thing besides salsa that I had on my to-do list was to enjoy a meal and an espresso at a sidewalk table in front of a café in the true spirit of a Parisian.  When Augustin got home, I shut down my Facebook and invited him to join me for dinner.  We found a cute little place with outdoor seating, a nice view AND a handsome Parisian waiter and I settled into my Parisian experience. 

I started flirting with the waiter right away but I guess Augustin wasn’t too impressed with my game so he stepped in and took the liberty of telling the waiter that I thought he was ‘hot’ to which the handsome waiter responded in his oh-so-adorable Parisian accent, “Hot?  What do you mean by hot?”

Flustered by his response, I left the clarification up to his co-workers and when he returned to our table to serve our food he informed me that he thought the same about me but didn’t want to say anything because he figured that Augustin and I were a couple.  We assured him that we were not so he told me his name was “Vincent” and gave me his phone number.  Needless to say, it was a very successful evening at the café.

When we got back to the apartment it was already time to get ready for a big night at Balajo, the most popular spot for Porto dancers on Thursday nights.  I was looking forward to seeing new friends from Bubble as well as old friends from previous salsa events but upon arriving at the club I instead saw all new faces.  I quickly realized the people I was looking for would likely be hiding in a Dancer’s Corner somewhere so I set out to find where that was.

And I was right.  After all, any good salsa venue is bound to have a Dancer’s Corner.  So there they were; old friends, new friends, and soon-to-be friends, all crowded in the back corner.  After a few hellos, and twice as many kisses (one for the left cheek and another for the right, of course), my eyes fell upon a beautiful sight… tall, dark, and handsome… but what impressed me the most was his dancing, he really had it all… including a girlfriend who had a very tight leash on him but at least allowed him one dance with me.

It was my first dance of the night so already I knew it would be a little shaky, but on top of that, he made me nervous and nervous is never good for dancing.  I felt like I was following pretty well for a while until at some point I lost my focus and it was all downhill from there.  Luckily, he was very forgiving; tall, dark, handsome, a great dancer… and charming too! 

Just like at Bubble, I barely left the dance floor after that first dance.  There were so many amazing dancers and they all wanted to try out the new girl.  And then a ‘zouk’ came on [Zouk: A style of rhythmic music originating in the early 1980’s from the islands of Guadeloupe, Martinique and Haiti.].  I had danced a little zouk at Flava Invasion in Atlanta but didn’t really get a good sense of it until this very moment. 

Zouk is very popular in France, especially the style called ‘zouk-love,’ so it seems appropriate that I’d have my very first true zouk experience while I was there [Zouk-Love: A slower and more dramatic style of zouk.].  And to make it even more authentic, the parents of the guy I was dancing with were from the Caribbean, where zouk-love originated. 

I had been hearing of zouk for a while back in the States but I also kept hearing that the U.S. was “not ready for it.”  I never understood what people meant by that until the guy I was dancing with pulled me into a firm embrace and started gyrating his pelvis (and mine with his lead) while squeezing my thigh between his legs.  That was all followed by a series of in unison body rolls.

I started thinking… should we really be doing this in public?  I mean, to be perfectly blunt, the way my body was moving as a result of his lead felt very similar to the way I move in bed, the only difference was we were wearing clothes… but still, seems a bit like what we used to call “dry sex” back in high school, and we didn’t do that in public!

Apparently all those thoughts were typical coming from a repressed American whereas the open-minded Europeans understood that this was just dancing.  For them it was no different than a really passionate salsa or bachata, at the end of which you thank your partner and walk away. 

But I couldn’t walk away.  I couldn’t get my mind off of what had just happened or the guy that it had happened with, who I will call “Dimitri.”  This guy really knew what he was doing, even to the point of inviting me to a private little after-party.  I mean, how could he have possibly known how much I love after-parties?

Still under his zouk spell, I accepted the invitation and ultimately was very pleased with my decision when I realized what a special person I had come across.  In addition to being very attractive, fun to be around, and of course a great zouk dancer, I learned that he had multiple other talents in various art forms.  I was truly impressed, but when he started talking about wanting to come to the States to be with me, this Samantha freaked out and told him that wasn’t likely to happen. 

We ended up spending a beautiful night together and by the morning I had changed my perspective and did not want to say goodbye, but unfortunately he had to leave for a job that was outside of Paris.  He’d be spending a night or two away and didn’t know whether he’d be able to go to the festival, but he did expect to see me before I returned home.  I wondered whether that would really happen after my little Samantha freak-out or whether my commitment phobia had ruined things before they even got started, but I tried to remain positive.

So then it was time for what was to be my worst Walk of Shame yet.  I had thought my Walk of Shame through the hotel lobby during the workshops at the San Francisco Congress was bad until I experienced my Walk of Shame across a mile of downtown Atlanta during Flava Invasion.  But there is no question that my Paris Walk of Shame tops them all.  I was having trouble getting in touch with Augustin and so when Dimitri took off I was stranded in Paris with nowhere to go.  As with all Walks of Shame, the worst part was that I was wearing my evening attire from the night before, which in this case included a very short black skirt that, if it were any shorter, might be considered a belt.

I had no idea what to do so I decided to pay Vincent a visit at the café.  I found an empty table where I waited for him with my best ‘you should feel sorry for me’ face.  I guess it worked pretty well because instead of sending me away he treated me to an espresso and even said a few kind words in an attempt to brighten my mood followed by a gentle suggestion that I should go change my skirt. 

Just then his boss came by and looked at him like, ‘what are you doing talking to that hooker, get to work!’ at which point I decided the walk was getting just a little too shameful and that it might be a good idea to find a different place to hide.  Vincent agreed and gave me directions to an internet café where I waited until I finally got a hold of Augustin.

The Mambo Festival was starting that night so I decided to re-pack my stuff and move to a hotel, that way I would be closer to the event (his apartment was about a half an hour away) and I’d have more flexibility with respect to after-parties (very important!). 

Friday night they had a yellow/gold theme (I guess it was called “Golden Friday”) and, although I had not known about this until after I got to Paris, packing my whole closet paid off because I just happened to have brought my only yellow dress.  As I was getting ready, I warmed up with my usual; a couple shots of tequila and then headed out.  The hotel receptionist told me where to catch a bus but I decided to walk since the venue was said to be only 2km from the hotel (whatever that meant… but it sounded pretty close). 

Just when I thought I might be getting lost, three handsome young men walked by, one of whom was wearing a yellow tie.  I decided to take my chances that it wasn’t just a coincidence and followed the yellow tie all the way to the event.

I got there just after the performances had started and quickly realized that meant I got there way too early.  The performances went on and on… and on.  In fact, they ended around 1am!  And although there were some decent ones, it was simply overkill.

At some point during the performances my stomach started to growl and I remembered that I hadn’t really had dinner but when I went to the bar to get some food I was told there were no vegetarian options.  So I put on my ‘you should feel sorry for me’ face once again and convinced a member of the event staff to drive me down to the main street where I was confident I’d find something to eat.  He was in quite a rush as he was still on the clock, but in the end his efforts to help me not only made for a nice little detour on this crazy journey of mine but also led to the discovery of a new friend.

Finally the performances came to a close but after waiting for hours to start the dancing I was very disappointed to realize that underneath all the chairs was a dirty, slippery, tile floor that would be our dance floor for the night.  I don’t know what they were thinking.  There were even areas in which people had spilled drinks that were not cleaned up before they opened the floor to dancing.  And to make things worse, there was no air conditioning.  It only took half a song before we were all covered in sweat and ready to go pass out somewhere. 

As I explained in a previous episode, I am often asked which events, of the ones I’ve attended, are the best.  My response is always that I can say which ones I enjoyed but that has nothing to do with which ones other people will enjoy, because everyone appreciates something different about a congress.  For example, for me the after-parties are essential.  A good after-party means I’m going to have good memories of the congress.  However, after-parties are far less important to many other dancers.

That being said, there are certain parts of a congress that impact everyone’s enjoyment, and those parts include things like the organization, the dance floor, the lighting, etc.  A tile floor and no air conditioning were two really bad moves on the part of these event organizers.  But I guess there were only a few of us that didn’t get the memo, because judging from how empty the room was, it was clear that people had expected a disappointing event.

One of the more personal things that I didn’t like about this festival was that I wasn’t being asked to dance that often.  It seemed that everyone was dancing with the people they knew… the people that they could dance with on Tuesday!  And, unlike in the club, they had little interest in the new girl.

And then, since the event was not in a hotel, it was not set up well for an after-party.  When the night came to a close, I had to settle for another one of those small “private” after-parties.  One of the guys that actually did ask me to dance that night needed to kill a few hours before the metro opened so I graciously let him hang out at my place.  He was good company, but I was still holding out hope for one big night.

After only a few hours sleep I decided to pull myself out of bed so I could go check out the workshops.  Although I usually skip workshops, with very little guilt or regret, I figured Europe might have something unique to offer and, having come this far, I should probably find out whether that was true.

I did not have enough energy to participate, so instead I spent a few minutes sitting in on each workshop to get a little taste for what they were about and I’d say ‘unique’ would be a good description.  Of course they had the usual options of shines, technique, styling, and body movement.  But what caught my interest were things like African Dance and Afro-Shines.  I also saw the biggest rueda circle I have ever seen… it was at least 50 couples and with both an inner and an outer circle they still filled the entire room.  And then I sat in on a reggaeton workshop.  Now that was something I’ve never seen at a congress.  The thing about reggaeton is that when it is done right, it can be super hot, but when it is done wrong, it is just wrong.  Some people were even hard to watch, but who am I to judge as I wasn’t even trying!

After the workshops I walked back to my hotel and took a little nap before getting ready for night number two.  When it was time to decide what to wear I considered how casual people had been dressed the night before.  In fact, many girls were actually wearing jeans.  And I know they say, “When in Rome do as the Romans do,” but wearing jeans to a major salsa event just didn’t sit right with me, and anyway, I’m not usually one to conform.  So instead I put on the sexiest outfit I had brought.  After all, it was Saturday night!  

Plus, being able to recycle my best outfits was one of the fun things about being in France.  Salsa can get very expensive.  Even though I buy most of my outfits at places like Forever 21, Papaya, and Ross, so that each outfit costs only about $20, I have to buy new clothes ALL the time because everywhere I go I see the same people.  Plus, if they didn’t see my outfit on the dance floor, they probably saw it again and again in my Facebook pictures.  But Paris was completely brand new to me, so I got to recycle all my old favorites.

This night I made a point of arriving late because I knew to expect a very long set of performances.  On the way I stopped by an internet café to try to contact Dimitri.  He had said he might be able to attend the festival on Saturday night but so far I had not received any news from him via Facebook and he did not answer my call.  I figured he must still be busy with work.

I managed to catch the end of the Saturday night show and while I enjoyed some of the performances including those by Adolfo and Carla (U.S./Italy), Big Spenders (France), the Cobo Brothers (U.S.), Juan Matos and Amneris (U.S.), Terry and Cecile (France), and Mouaze (France), overall I was still bored out of my mind from performance overload.  So, to keep myself busy, I started working the crowd, and what a crowd it was; at least double the size of the night before.  I was seeing more and more familiar people and, having worn my sexiest outfit, had plenty of attention to keep me occupied. 

But as soon as the social dancing started I was once again left unimpressed.  The floor was still tile, the room was still hot, and the locals were still mostly dancing among themselves.  Since the majority of people in attendance were locals, I had very few people with whom to dance and spent a lot of the night standing around and pouting about the fact that I had flown all the way to Europe for this when I knew there must be so many events better worth my time and money.

I got so bored I even went downstairs to check out the Cuban room.  I had heard they were playing some zouk down there but since I wasn’t feeling the Cuban thing I didn’t stick around long enough to see if that were true.

When the music stopped I was ready to give up on the whole festival experience but first made one last ditch effort to find an after-party.  To be honest, it wasn’t much of an effort.  I mentioned to a couple people that I was looking for a party and when they said they didn’t know of any I walked away with my head hanging low, cursing the Paris Mambo Festival.

So I didn’t find the after-party… but it found me!  I overheard someone talking about making a party and immediately jumped into the conversation to score myself an invitation.  Initially they looked at me a little funny but when they saw that I had already become acquainted with some of the people who would be joining them, they decided to give me a chance.

On the way over to the apartment where the party was being held, they couldn’t get over the fact that I had come all the way from California for this event.  I let them know that I didn’t get the memo but was doing my best to make the most of it.  Meanwhile, I was burning inside with anticipation for this party that had the potential of making or breaking this long journey “all the way from California”… little did they know they had an enormous responsibility sitting on their shoulders.

But they did not disappoint me… not even a little.  This after-party was not only the highest point of my trip to Paris but it was right up there with some of my highest points of the year.  I immediately felt welcome and comfortable, so I could just be myself, my very crazy self that you all know from reading this blog. 

I had been told there likely would not be a lot of drinking going on but I had a little talk with the host and he ended up pulling out every random bottle of alcohol he could find in the apartment.  The most popular drink ended up being white wine, slightly different from what I was used to, but at least they were drinking something.

But unlike other places, in France the drinking was not the essential part of the after-party.  What was the essential part?… the zouk.  And the zouk was plentiful.  There was your typical zouk on foot but then there was also sitting zouk and lounging zouk on the couch.  There was your typical zouk in pairs but then there was also zouk in groups of 3, 4, and 5, which we ultimately decided to call the “zouk-wich.”  There was, of course, your typical zouk in clothes, and some lucky party-goers went home to continue to zouk without clothes.

There was also conversation about zouk.  I spent a great deal of time interviewing everyone about how they handle zouk in relationships.  I mean, at this point I am eternally single, but if I were ever to find myself in a relationship, I imagine we’d need to have a discussion about whether we’d allow each other to dance bachata with any other partner.  But zouk takes sexy to a whole new level.  Without question, I would not tolerate zouk with anyone except me.

At this after-party, however, the general consensus was free-zouk, even when you are in a relationship.  They insisted that it is just dancing and that sexual feelings do not get involved, but the ‘bananas’ in their pockets were telling me something different.

With the sun rising outside, we all decided it was time to end the party.  A guy I had met at the festival, “Lucas,” had offered me his already-paid-for room for the night as he would be taking off around 4am to catch a flight.  His room was in the same hotel as mine so not only was he saving me some money, but I figured it would be an easy move.  So I didn’t bother shutting my eyes even for a moment.  Instead I packed my bags and went straight to check-out. 

I couldn’t wait to crash out but the room number Lucas gave me belonged to an empty room and Lucas was nowhere to be found.  I went by reception and asked if perhaps he left a message for me.  That’s when we both realized the unfortunate fact that while his hotel did have the same name as mine, it was actually at a different location, a couple blocks down the street. 

Although slightly out of my way, I decided to pass by the internet café and make another attempt to reach Dimitri.  But passing by the internet café with a large duffle bag in tow ended up being quite a feat because on Sunday afternoon the sidewalk is taken over by what looked like a Farmer’s Market.  Nonetheless, for some reason I just couldn’t get Dimitri off my mind and was hopeful that he might actually answer the phone and jump at the opportunity to spend the rest of the weekend with me, and then my whole struggle would pay off.

But he didn’t answer and there was no Facebook message either.  Ignoring the fact that I had just watched “He’s Just Not That Into You” on the flight over, I put his phone number away in a safe location so that I could try him again a little later.

Eventually I made it over to Lucas’ hotel where he gave me the good news that he was on his way out and I could have the room to myself all day long.  So I slept the day away which meant missing a party at Barrio Latino in the late afternoon.  Barrio Latino is the Sunday afternoon salsa spot and apparently I was missing a very good party.  But, as always, I had to make a choice, and after staying up most of the night, my choice was to stay in bed most of the day.

Shortly after I woke up, Lucas returned.  As we were both feeling lazy, we decided to just hang out in the room until it was time to get ready so I took this opportunity to pick his brain about the guy’s perspective on dance partner selection to try to better understand why I wasn’t getting as many invitations to dance as I would have liked.  Not that I always wait to be asked, but I’d like to be asked at least some of the time.

His response was not too surprising; that some guys ask girls they are attracted to and others ask girls they think can dance well.  In the end I still didn’t understand why I wasn’t getting asked to dance more often as I think I’m doing at least okay in both these areas.  But I guess, like most other things about men, this will just have to be a mystery.

While we were hanging out in the room it started pouring rain outside so we decided this time we’d take a bus to the event.  We took our time and missed most of the performances, which were held a little earlier this night, but neither of us was disappointed by our choice.

Sunday nights at weekend-long salsa events tend to be very special, and the Paris Mambo Festival was no different.  The room was less crowded, which meant less heat and more intimacy.  Also, by this point I had met plenty of people and was quite satisfied with how often I was getting asked to dance.  Plus, I got in a few dances with superstars including a salsa with Juan Matos and a cha cha with Mouaze Konate. 

In general, the energy was fun and playful.  I even messed around with a few of my new friends who convinced me that I needed to try some real French kisses from real French men.  While it felt a bit odd to be kissing like that in public, a little tequila helped them talk me into it.

But the highlight of the night was the official after-party.  They closed the ballroom early and moved us all to a riverboat on the Seine.  When I arrived, they informed me that I’d have to leave my shoe bag in the coat check.  That meant I’d have to check in the water bottle filled with tequila I’d been hiding in there (as I always do at congresses).  So I made the silly decision to down as much as I could before putting it away.  I guess I hadn’t taken into account the fact that we were on a boat, a boat that was slanted towards the dock, making it difficult even for the sober people to dance.

Nonetheless I had a ton of fun and danced almost every song.  The DJ played salsa, bachata, cha cha, and zouk and I danced it all.  By the end of the party, despite all my disappointment in the festival and all my whining about how far I’d traveled, I reflected on the fact that I had a met a ton of great people who were sure to make it very difficult to say goodbye to France.  This congress withdrawal was definitely going to be a painful one. 

As I said goodbye I extended an open invitation to my home far, far away in California but realized it was unlikely I would see many of these people again, except perhaps on Facebook.

I got in a couple hours of rest in the room that Lucas’ had left me before I had to check-out.  Then I had to make a decision about where and how to spend my final night in Paris.  Knowing only that most importantly I didn’t want to be alone, the first thing I did was call every single number I had collected over the weekend.

 I even made one final attempt to contact Dimitri but by no surprise he didn’t answer.  Looking back I am honestly shocked at how obsessed I was with him as I rarely get attached, even with people I know quite well.  But leave it to the most romantic city in the world to make this non-believer believe in love once again.

I did, however, manage to get in touch with a few other salseros but they were already back to work so I had one last hope… Vincent, and once again, he saved the day!

It was his day off and he was very happy to come hang out for a while.  We would have lunch and then he’d help me find a hotel near the airport.  He asked me to call him back in an hour to finalize the plans.  So it was all settled, except that after paying for all the calls I was out of cash and my ATM card was nowhere to be found.  The only money I had on me was an American $20 which, in order to be able to call Vincent back, I needed to change as quickly as possible. 

The guy working at the internet café directed me to a currency exchange location just down the street.  It was raining pretty hard at that time and I had all three bags with me and no umbrella.  But I didn’t want to lose my chance to hang out with Vincent so I decided to brave the rain.  I made it across a large intersection where I stopped at a hardware store to ask for more specific directions. 

My hair was already sopping wet and the bottom of my jeans were muddy.  Clearly it just wasn’t my lucky day because apparently the internet café guy was misinformed and the nearest location for changing money was actually a couple metro stops away… but I didn’t have any money to take the metro! 

That’s when my ‘you should feel sorry for me’ face, along with some tears, came in handy once again and they found me a metro ticket.  But I couldn’t imagine going back into the rain with all of my bags and working out the metro system for the first time all by myself so I thanked them for the metro ticket and suggested they call Vincent for me.  My luck must have started turning because they decided to follow my suggestion and soon enough I was rescued!

Just so we are clear, at this point I have barely slept in three days, my hair is wet, my clothes are muddy, my eyes are red because I have been crying, and the last time I saw Vincent I was wearing an inappropriately short skirt while disrupting his work day and agitating his boss.  He must have seen something in me because instead of just running away he took my bags for me and escorted me to a nearby café. 

We ordered two espressos, one of which I used to decorate the table and my pants and yet he still didn’t run away.  Instead he started asking me a ton of questions about my crazy life and was fascinated by it all.  I was really starting to like this guy. 

After the coffee, he helped me navigate the metro system so I could go to a cheap hotel that he knew of near the airport.  I can’t say I couldn’t have done it without him, because I have traveled quite of bit of the world by myself and am pretty good at finding my way around, but I can say it would have taken at least twice as long.  That metro system is the most complex I’ve ever seen!  And besides all the help he gave me by knowing what trains and connections we needed, it was also quite comforting to be able to cuddle up to him along the way. 

Eventually we made it to the cheap hotel and were given the unfortunate news that it was full.  They sent us over to the next hotel which was double the price at 85 Euro ($120) but it was also full.  They only other hotel in the area was an absurd 135 Euro ($190) but after running all over Paris all day long in the rain with three bags on very little sleep, I had no choice but to suck it up and shell out the dough. 

And what did I get for 135 Euro?  A large bathtub.  Other than that it was really nothing special.  So believe me, I made sure I got some use out of that bathtub. 

Vincent stuck around for a little while to keep me company but then he had to take off to visit his family.  After everything we’d been through all weekend… the initial meeting at the café, my Walk of Shame the very next day, and then his rescuing me on my final day in Paris… you can imagine this was an especially difficult goodbye.

But luckily I was saved by another little feature of this over-priced room; internet access on the TV.  I spent the rest of the night on Facebook, chatting with a few of my new French friends.

When I finally got to sleep however, despite the luxury mattress and bedding, I slept very badly as I woke up numerous times to check the clock and make sure I wasn’t going miss my flight.  Eventually I decided to just give up on sleep, finish packing my bags, and find my way to the airport. 

I had yet to pick out some souvenirs for my loved ones so I ended up wasting my last Euros at the airport on cheesy gifts.  After stressing for way too long about which gifts looked the least like they had been purchased at the airport, I found out I was a couple Euros short and was once again rescued by human kindness when the lady in line behind me offered to pay the balance. 

So overall impression of the Paris Mambo Festival: it was very far away, the organization was lacking, the ballroom was uncomfortable, I didn’t dance enough on Friday and Saturday night because it was hard to make my way into the very tight local community… BUT I met incredible people who went out of their way to help me and will cherish these memories forever.  And as a bonus, I discovered zouk!

Next stop: the Gemini Salsa Competition in Portland, Oregon from June 12^th to June 13^th.  Will you be there?  Or more importantly, will you be here?  Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.”  Viva la salsa!

May: Los Angeles Salsa Congress 2009

My May event was the Los Angeles Salsa Congress which is another one of Albert Torres’ events.  Already in its 11^th year, the LA Salsa Congress is considered one of the largest worldwide.  Since it is such a large production, they are able to line up the best in musicians, instructors, and performers.  In addition to many other highlights, this year’s congress featured a concert by Gilberto Santa Rosa and performances and instruction by the Mambo King himself, Eddie Torres.

This was my second year attending LA Congress and despite all the hype, my expectations were low, because last year I went with very high expectations and found myself disappointed.  The stage was too low and I had to strain my neck or stand up to watch the performances.  The ballroom was hot and crowded, making it difficult to dance.  And the after parties were not even worth mentioning.

But this year, I was pleasantly surprised.  I returned home very satisfied with my experience and you are about to find out why…

Congresses run 24 hours a day from the workshops and pool parties, to the pre-parties, to the performances and competitions, to the open social dancing, to the after-parties and back to the workshops again.  There was a time when I could make it through about 20 of those hours with only a short nap between the after party and a day time activity (usually the pool party since - as you may have picked up from reading my previous episodes - I don’t really have the attention span for the workshops).  I could actually pull this off 3 or even 4 days in a row and then catch up on sleep after the weekend ended. 

However, now that I am traveling so much and still go out on weekdays, my stamina has decreased and I’ve been forced to make choices about which parts of an event I want to attend.  In the case of this year’s LA Congress, my choice ended up being dancing and partying for 4 nights straight.  As a result, I missed ALL of the workshops, almost ALL of the performances, and I even missed the pool parties which I heard were a blast. 

Yes, I do feel some regret, particularly for missing the opportunity to train with the Eddie Torres and watch performers like Yamulee and Maykel Fonts.  But I also know I will get these opportunities again soon enough. 

And don’t you worry.  Just because I missed out, doesn’t mean you have to.  I have asked a trusted friend, Dakin Ferris, the Roving SalsaCrazy Underground Reporter, to share his experience of the workshops and performances so just read on.

I arrived in LA on Thursday evening.  I drove down so that I would have a car to store all of my belongings because I was unable to arrange a room in advance.  As I am traveling so much, funds are short, so I usually try to spend as little money as possible on each trip.  That usually means crashing with “congress friends” who either get either a free room because they are somehow involved in the organization of the event or at least some sort of discount for performing or instructing. 

Others are just generous and don’t mind my free-loading on them.  Rumor has it I tend to add a little fun and excitement to the atmosphere and perhaps that explains why I get these generous offers.

Finding a room this way is not usually a problem because at the smaller events that I often go to I am one of few people looking to do this.  But LA is a huge event, and when the hotel sells out, those who have rooms are getting hit up numerous times a day by people looking for a place to crash. 

Then there are the locals who, also in an effort to save money, just stay at home.  I was actually offered the key to an apartment only 8 minutes away from the hotel, but I kept this as a back-up, confident that I’d find a preferable arrangement in the hotel.  And just in case nothing worked out, I figured it would be good to have my car so I’d have a place to keep my stuff and even take a nap if necessary. 

I put the word out via Facebook status that I’d be driving down and within minutes received a text from a friend who wanted to drive with me.  I was thrilled to have the company and made a deal that if I drove most of the way, he’d drive the last couple hours so I could start drinking.  And luckily it all ended up going according to plan.

Just as we were entering LA we learned that our friends would be competing at the Conga Room and had to make a quick decision about where to go.  But for $30 entrance per person, because of a concert that was following the competition, we decided it wasn’t worth it and headed straight to the congress.

We parked the car in a lot one block behind the hotel where it would end up living for the next few days.  We changed into our congress attire right there, made ourselves as presentable as possible, considering we were standing in a parking lot (my friend didn’t have a room for that night either) and headed over to the event.

The Thursday night band was The Echo Park Project.  As many people skip Thursday night because of work on Friday, the crowd was thin and there was plenty of room to dance but nonetheless plenty of great people to dance with. 

And I was already bumping into tons of people I had met at other events.  Some I knew very well, especially those from LA, but others I had trouble placing… was it Salt Lake?  Seattle?  Arizona?  There were even some people from the East Coast that I had met recently at Flava Invasion.  And then there were new people to meet, such as a great group of guys who came all the way from Switzerland.

As overwhelming as it already was making sure I danced with all of my favorite dance partners, I could only imagine how much worse it was going to get over the weekend.

By the time the DJ finished his last set, I was exhausted from all of the excitement and it was time to figure out my first sleeping arrangement.  This night was a little more complicated than the others because I felt I should include the friend who I drove down with and finding a room with a guy posed an interesting challenge. 

I saw someone who had mentioned I could stay with him earlier in the night and asked whether my friend could come too.  He said he had to ask the guy that he was staying with who ended up taking forever to find.  When that guy finally showed up, he told me that he’d have to charge us $20 each.  I told him I didn’t think I could accept that deal as I’d been offered so many free places throughout the night.  He said he’d let me stay free too… if I had been alone.

After a little conversation about where I was from and some of the places I’ve recently been, he looked me directly in the eye and said, “Secret Salsera… you’re the Secret Salsera.” 

He said he’d been watching me make my way around the ballroom earlier in the night and having known that I was going to be at the congress he already had his suspicions that I was the Secret Salsera.  He added that he’d been involved in some police detective work which explained his keen intuition but, nonetheless, it still all kind of freaked me out, especially when he started telling me all about myself… how I started dancing and things that had happened to me at various events. 

In the end we didn’t end up staying in his hotel room as another group of friends passed through the lobby on their way back from having a bite to eat and said we could stay with them… for free! 

Did I mention that I had barely slept the night before as I was hanging out with Sophie, my bestest salsa friend, until early morning as she was last minute packing?  I couldn’t wait to jump into bed but just as I was getting cozy, a case of beers entered the room in the arms of a familiar salsero and that meant goodbye to the opportunity to finally catch some zzz’s.  We all stayed up talking for a few more hours which were followed by only a couple hours of very poor sleep.

Then I got a call from Sophie who was just leaving San Francisco.  She asked if I’d be willing to pick her up at LAX when she arrived.  There are frequently running shuttles that are very easy to take from the airport to all of the hotels in the area but Sophie is my girl and I would do whatever she preferred, I only asked that she give me a place to nap after we got back to the hotel.

So it was settled.  I’d pick her up and we’d go to the room that her boyfriend had arranged for them and take a quick nap while he was at his tech rehearsal.  I’d finally catch up on sleep and be good to go for the rest of the congress. 

Wouldn’t it have been nice if it were really all that simple? 

As soon as Sophie got there we were both talking a mile a minute, catching up on everything we had missed during an entire 24 hours of separation.  And the talking went on and on, even after we were laying down, both dying for a little rest. 

She finally told me we should just stop talking and do our best to get some sleep but just as I was about to drift off into a peaceful slumber, her boyfriend showed up.  Very grateful for the couple hours they had so graciously shared their room with me, I decided to give them some time alone and went down to the lobby to look for room #3, which I’d say took no more than 15 minutes to find!  I ran into a friend from the Bay Area in the hotel bar who, back in the Bay, had told me that I could crash in his room if I ever needed to.  Well, I needed to and there he was!

And he kept his word.  We went up to the room which just happened to be empty and so he offered me a bed all to myself.  Then he decided he could also use a little nap.  Well, he fell right to sleep… but still wired by all of the excitement, I on the other hand laid there awake for probably another hour and a half. 

It was painful.  I wanted to sleep so badly but my body and mind just kept fighting it.  I knew the lack of sleep was going to impact the rest of the night, and potentially the rest of the congress, but I couldn’t get my stubborn body to give in no matter how hard I tried. 

The performances were about to start, which included Sophie’s boyfriend and the guy that had just let me take a nap, or at least attempt to take a nap, in his room.  I really wanted to go and support both of them, but also wanted to make one more attempt to get some sleep since I’d finally have a room all to myself.  At this point I was feeling pretty out of it from the lack of sleep and was concerned I wouldn’t be able to dance, or possibly even talk to people without acting strange. 

I laid back down, got up, laid down again, got up again… until the vibration of my phone called my attention to a PRE-PARTY invitation!… and I decided it was time to give up my fight against the sleeping gods.

Sophie had already advised me that if I couldn’t sleep eventually I’d have to face the fact that my only option was to drink.  It may not help my dancing, but it would help to get the edge off so I could at least be sociable.  So I took her advice.  I grabbed some tequila and went straight to the pre-party.  And to her credit, she was right!  The tequila put me at ease and I was really enjoying myself.

Gilberto Santa Rosa was scheduled to make an early evening appearance that night because he had another engagement later on.  The opportunity to hear Gilberto Santa Rosa in concert was quite a treat so I made a point of not getting caught up at the pre-party for too long. 

As soon as I was feeling good enough to brave the crowd, I headed down to the ballroom.  It was packed, just as I had expected, and I felt like I was saying hello to someone every few steps that I took.  And that meant many potential dance partners!  With the alcohol taking the edge off, I had no problem being social but the next challenge was to see whether I’d make it on the dance floor.

I took the first offer for a dance.  I had overheard the guy was a salsa instructor in another country so I felt I was in good hands… but it didn’t end up going so well and that really concerned me.  Was my balance off from the exhaustion?  Or maybe we just didn’t have chemistry.  After all, that happens sometimes.

I grabbed a friend of mine with whom I generally dance pretty well and he took me to a corner of the dance floor.  I was happily surprised to discover that my dancing was still on.  We even attracted a little audience.  It was a very fast song and the energy from the band was great so I danced as hard as I could… until the adrenaline wore off and my body reminded me that it was running on empty. 

I held out until the song was over, out of respect for my little audience, but as soon as the music stopped I rushed straight to the water.  I tried to make it through the mob of people on my own but my legs were weak and my head dizzy so I enlisted the help of the first person I recognized to bring me some water.  Then I had someone else walk me out and babysit me on a couch to make sure I didn’t pass out. 

I was burning up with sweat pouring off my forehead.  But I was still smiling.  I felt so fortunate to have so many people around willing to offer me help.  It is in moments like these when my stories take a sappy turn as I relish in the beauty of how all my troubles are a critical part of what are, overall, amazing adventures.  Okay, maybe that was the loopiness taking over, but what’s important is that with the help of my fellow salseros, I did not pass out.

I decided it wasn’t a good idea to return to the hot, dark, crowded ballroom and unfortunately missed the rest of an incredible show by Gilberto Santa Rosa.  Instead I went back up to the pre-party and sprawled myself out on the bed, passively socializing with all the fun people who were there as that was about all I could handle at the moment.

Then Sophie showed up with the rest of my tequila which gave me just the lift I needed to get moving again… tequila, the miracle cure to any ailment.  All of a sudden I was on my feet, running around the room, laughing and dancing.  In fact, I started to feel confined in the small space so I grabbed a girl that I had just met who seemed like good fun and we went down to the lobby to see what kind of trouble we could get into. 

We spent a while talking to various people but quickly got separated from one another, so I went back to the ballroom where I ended up dancing for the next couple hours.  It’s amazing; sometimes I feel I can dance better than I can walk.  I can be totally out of it from either exhaustion, intoxication, or both, and bump into everything around me until my feet hit the dance floor.  Then, give me at least a decent lead and you’d think I was completely sober.

I know what you’re thinking… it’s all in my head.  It’s that drunk illusion that alcohol can actually improve one’s dancing.  But in my case I can honestly say that I’ve had this fact confirmed by trusted friends.

This particular time I was so out-of-it that when I went to sit on a chair I fell right off on the floor in clear view of likely 100’s of people.  In an effort to save me from embarrassment, a knight in shining armor came out of nowhere, picked me up off the ground, and asked me to dance.  I debated whether I should accept, but went for it and ended up making it gracefully through the rest of the song. 

Although I’m usually able to remember most of what happens, even when I’m drunk enough to fall off a chair, I unfortunately cannot recall the identity of this knight, but in case he happens to be reading this, I would like to let him know that his efforts did not go unappreciated!

Throughout the congress, we had three different rooms to choose from for social dancing.  The band played in the main ballroom so it was mostly salsa and a little cha cha.  There was a second large room with a DJ who was also playing mostly salsa.  The music was pretty good in both rooms, however, I was surprised to hear quite a bit of ‘timba’ which is not my personal favorite and kind of seemed to go against the grain of the event [Timba: A Cuban style of salsa music.].

This year they dedicated the third and smallest room to bachata.  As much as I feel I can follow bachata pretty well, I am frequently reminded that I have so much more to learn.  That’s why I’m particularly excited for the San Francisco Bachata Festival coming up in July.  Three days of workshops, performances, and dancing!

By the end of the night I had a few options for places to stay.  It went like this: someone would ask me where I was staying… I’d say, “with you!”… they’d say, “ok!”… and I’d have a place to stay.  Some options were safer than others (meaning, they’d accept a “no” on the third or fourth attempt instead of continuously trying all night long) and, although the dangerous offers had their own appeal, I ultimately snuck away with a safe one. 

On the way to the room I realized I really needed some water before going to bed or I might wake up a mess (learning from a recent tequila experience).  My new ‘roommate’ (#4) didn’t have any water in the room and the hallway vending machine wasn’t working.  Just my luck, at that moment a familiar face passed us by in the hall and in response to my request for some water we received an invitation to his room where they were having a small after-party. 

I had seriously about had it.  I was ready to pass out on the floor.  But then I saw one of my favorite cha cha partners ever and had no choice but to stop for a dance.  It took about 10 minutes just to find a decent song but, mustering up all my strength, I managed to hold out long enough to make it to the final note, at which point I collapsed onto the nearest bed. 

As all of this was happening, my new ‘roommate’ had found himself a female companion and was wrapped up in conversation.  I begged him to leave but I was at his mercy, and since I wasn’t planning on putting out, I felt the least I could do was allow him to have a shot with the other girl, if that was his intention. 

Well, either it wasn’t his intention, or things didn’t work out, because ultimately we left and she stayed.

When we got to the room, his real roommate was passed out on the other bed.  I was unable to make out the other guy’s face through the darkness so I asked who it was… what a coincidence, this was not the first, nor the second time, this particular person was in a room to which I was invited late at night… and although in this case there wasn’t going to be any funky business, I was still grateful that he was passed out and never had to know I was there.

I got a few hours of sleep but then woke up with the realization that I had left my shoe bag, with my phone, in the room where I had pre-partied the night before.  I barely knew the guy who was staying in that room and didn’t know when he’d be checking out.  Since my phone was there, I couldn’t even call my friend who had invited me to the pre-party to ask her what to do.

I had a choice; take a chance that I’d find him later and try to get some more rest or go to find him right then, risking being tired AND homeless once again.  I couldn’t fall back to sleep since I was preoccupied about my phone so I decided to get up and leave, allowing the door to what was, at that moment, my only potential home to gently lock behind me.

Unfortunately there was no response when I knocked on his door so I checked with the hotel receptionist who reassured me the guy would be staying in the room at least another day.  Phew!  So far, so good.

But I was a mess, physically and mentally.  My hair was all over the place and my head wasn’t clear… and there was nowhere to hide.  I found a comfy chair in the lobby where I curled up and waited to see what would happen next.  Every couple minutes someone I knew passed by… each person represented potential access to a room, but as messy as I was, I was afraid to interact with most of them. 

A couple people stopped by to say hello and I explained my situation… but no room offers.  Then I spotted him!  The pre-party room guy!  I ran right up to him and told him that I had left my bag in his room.  

I could barely believe what happened next… he handed me his key… it was as if he handed me a pot of gold.  Not only could I get my bag, but he said the room was empty and I could take a nap!  For the next 4 hours I had a room (#5) all to myself.  It was plenty of time for both me and my phone to recharge.  Meanwhile I apparently missed an amazing pool party and tons of workshops, including Eddie Torres, but I needed that sleep more than anything.

After 4 hours I was satisfied, although I still didn’t feel 100%, so I thought maybe it would be a good idea to eat something.  On the way to my car to pick up a change of clothes, I stopped by the local Subway, a popular lunch spot for congress attendees.  Then I returned to the hotel with the task of finding a place to take a shower. 

At this point the whole room thing was beginning to be an adventure.  It wasn’t about saving money anymore.  It was about coming up with new strategies for making the request, the challenge of finding something in a timely manner, the mystery of where I would end up, and then the ultimate discovery of the generosity of the salsa community. 

As soon as I got back to the hotel I ran into a few acquaintances from the Bay Area and let them know I needed to take a shower.  The offer I got in return was possibly the most generous so far.  Not only did I get the shower, but I got a nap, pizza, alcohol, a place to leave my backpack, AND a place to sleep for the night (#6).  I had never spent too much time with these people back in the Bay Area and was incredibly impressed by their friendliness and good energy. 

Plus, I had a special little connection with one of the guys in the group so there was a built-in cuddle-buddy.  And as we spent more time together, the cuddling got more and more intense until that evening, when everyone left to see the performances, I was faced with another choice… go with them to watch the show, or have a moment alone with my cuddle-buddy to take our relationship to a whole new level.  I chose the moment alone.

After that moment, we made it downstairs in time for the social dancing.  The band was Son Boricua and it was another great night.  The only complaint I had about the social dancing was the show-off factor that is so typical of LA-Style. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love to make a show.  In fact, you can almost always find me dancing on the edge of the dance floor and quite often on one of the corners.  Sometimes you’ll even find me dancing on the carpet.  And it’s no secret that dancers choose to dance in these places to attract attention.

But I don’t go for the tricks and flips on the social dance floor.  I just think it is wrong… save it for the big stage.  Truth is, I didn’t see too much of it this year, but I saw it.  And believe me, I avoided the leads who were doing it. 

I also don’t go for what my friends and I call, “perform.”  That’s when the lead stops dancing, plants his feet shoulder-width apart, and provides support for the follower to show herself off.  It happens everywhere but it seems to be particularly popular in Los Angeles.

Listen, if we are not dancing together, we are not dancing.  My response is either to stop myself so the lead can do his thing or to simply tell him that I don’t do that.  Sometimes it’s a little awkward for a moment but we can usually get past it and have fun.

After I had gotten in plenty of dancing I received an invitation and, yet again, had to make a decision.  Remember that black hole of congress sin I got sucked into in Salt Lake?  I told myself I’d do everything I could to avoid it at this congress, but temptation got the best of me and I was right back there again. 

We went back to the room to dance a little bachata and one thing led to another and, not surprisingly, another thing led to sin.  By the time the sinning was over, so was the social dancing and I went to find out what was next. 

That’s when I got a call about an after party.  This wasn’t just any after party.  This was THE after party and it was in full swing before I got there… how could they have gotten this far without the After Party Queen?  I guess that’s what happens when I get distracted.

We had a huge suite on the top floor and so many of my favorite people were there.  I was in after party heaven.  Dancing, flirting… I even got my hands on the end of a bottle of Patron!  It was perfect.

But then someone walked in with a guitar and the guy who ended up playing it soaked up all the attention, leaving none for the attention-hungry Secret Salsera.  I very quickly lost interest in the whole event and called to check in on the room #6 crew.  They told me they were just getting back from eating and said I should meet them at the room. 

While the sun was going up, we were laying down, and the next thing we knew it was Sunday afternoon and therefore my last opportunity to attend a pool party.  But by the time we actually peeled ourselves away from those cozy covers, the party was very close to being over and I decided to return to the warm embrace of my cuddle-buddy.  Not surprisingly, I missed the pool party, in favor of another lazy afternoon in bed.

Eventually I did get out of bed and made my way down to the pool to see whether there were any remnants of the party.  I was happy to find that although the DJ was long gone, there were still plenty of people to chat with and even music blasting out of a personal boom box. 

I stayed there until it got too cold and then went to meet my best non-salsa friend, Layla, who had just arrived at the congress.  A few months ago she randomly met a guy who was traveling the world raising money for charity by dancing salsa.  They’d been hanging out quite a bit and since he was also attending the congress, she decided to come check it out for a night.  Since meeting him, she’d been attending salsa events more and more frequently.

It was brilliant.  I had been trying for so long to convert this non-salsa friend but had been pretty much unsuccessful.  And all along the solution was oh-so-simple… it just took a little puppy love.  Why hadn’t I thought of it myself?

As Monday was the Memorial Day holiday, she chose to come Sunday evening and arrived with vodka and red bull in hand, ready to start the party.  Then I got news that a bunch of my favorite boys were hanging out in a different room.  I could bring her… but not her friend… and I guess that wasn’t acceptable so I ended up going alone and once again found myself distracted from the main event.  I missed all but the last few performances… maybe not a good decision as the Sunday show was rumored to be the best of the congress… but, as usual, I had fun.

When it was time for social dancing I danced as much as I could, realizing that I may not see many of these people again for a while.  To keep my energy up, I enjoyed a cup of fresh fruit at the hotel lobby bar, something I had done daily and definitely recommend to anyone attending the LA Congress.  I also got an invitation to help someone finish off a bottle of tequila; another good way to boost my energy. 

And then I saw him standing just outside the ballroom; the hottest guy in a congress full of hot guys.  He was tall, thin, and dark, excellent style from the blazer, to the scarf, to the perfectly-fitted jeans.  You could just tell he was an amazing dancer. 

As if I hadn’t already had enough fun for one congress… but this guy was special and I had to meet him.

It wasn’t long before I got the opportunity I’d been hoping for.  Only a couple songs after I first noticed him, I saw him standing alone inside the ballroom so I asked him to dance.  He accepted immediately.  He was a good lead, but we lost the connection every once in a while which I’ve found happens frequently when you dance with someone for the first time no matter how good the two dancers are.  Anyway, at this moment I couldn’t care less as I was just enjoying the opportunity to be close to him.

As it turned out, he came from very far away and it was unlikely I would see him again anytime soon.  So that meant this was my one opportunity to get to know him a little better. 

I asked if he’d like to dance a bachata in the other room but when we got to the other room they had already stopped the music.  He asked if I’d like to go for a walk, but when we got outside it was too cold.  So then we agreed to go hang out in his room, but it was occupied. 

By process of elimination we ended up, where else, but the stairwell.  I had yet to experience the stairwell at congress and here was my chance.  Some might call it cheap and tacky… we called it an adventure.

It was already 4:00am and that meant the official end of the 2009 Los Angeles Salsa Congress.  I made one last attempt to find an after party but ended up with a bunch of other party-seekers in a hallway with nowhere to go.  So instead I went to bed in room #7 and enjoyed a few last hours of drunken sleep in a double bed with triple people. 

I woke up to find out that I’d be driving back with not one, not two, but three guys.  They were actually quite entertaining until they all passed out on me and slept most of the way home.  I could have complained, but with all the generosity I had experienced all weekend, I figured it was my turn to give back.  I, myself, almost passed out twice, but we eventually made it home thanks to red bull and a phone call from Layla. 

Having had a few hours of rest each, some of the guys decided it was a good idea to keep the party going and insisted that I join them.  Against my better judgment, I obliged them and ended up staying up drinking beer until 1:00am only to close my eyes briefly and wake up to the reality that it was time to go to work.  It has taken me about a week to recover, but there’s no question that the memories are well-worth it. 

So here’s what my friend had to say about the parts that I missed:

WSCS 2009 TRAVELOGUE BY DAKIN FERRIS (aka D-MAMBO PRODUCTIONS)

Noting that SecretSalsera was AWOL from her official duties (again!)–and ok, a little jealous that I'm not living her life as well–I realized that someone had to pick up the slack in the editorial department…so here comes my unvarnished and naturally biased perspective!

THE WORKSHOPS -  Two words: FREAKIN' AWESOME!  With plenty of room in most of the workshops and everything starting on time for the most part, here's why they were so great: 

1) Eddie Torres is a one-man Congress.  With indisputable credentials (the Yip Man to our many Brue Lee's), with well-honed and highly motivational teaching skills, and then, well, Melissa, his knock-out partner who moves as sultry as the night, I repeat myself to anyone who will listen, it just doesn't get any better.  Eddie moved about the room, gave us 10 minutes of video-taping time of him at the end of each workshop, and for three straight days gave us all he had….what a joy.

2)  Maykel Fonts.  This guy can move like few others.  And like Eddie, he taught all three days to rave reviews.

Honorable mention:  Junior and Emily's spin workshop, and Victor and Burju.  I did all three lifts and tricks by Billy and Katie, Dave and Zoe and Ava and Rodolfo, which were all very well taught and useful.

THE PERFORMANCES - There were a lot of great performances at this years WCSC, so I will mention my high-lights….and some gripes!

1)  Friday Night - I thought it was at a consistently solid and entertaining level, but the best part was that the performances lasted only 1.5 hours and were over by 7:30pm!  AMAZING!!  They started on time, Albert has mastered how to get people on and off stage so there was no waiting around, and the main event for which we came…..the concerts and social dancing…..was happening in prime time.  The stand-out performances of the night were not a surprise — Eddie Torres and Melissa did a cha cha cha that lit the stage on fire, Melissa, throughout, holding the most sultry-come-hither look I think I have ever seen in a salsa stage show.  And then of course, Maykel Fonts, about whom I'm not even sure what to say.  I'm jealous of his body, his athleticism, and all his moves.  Wow.

2) Saturday Night -

GRIPE #1:  Honestly, I am COMPLETELY SICK of the 2+ Hour Shows, that start late, have a lot of mediocre talent…..and this was no exception.  ARGHHHHHHH!  This isn't about Albert Torres, this is about all promoters….folks….get the message.  We want to dance.  Saturday night I got to my seat at 7:15 for the competition….except there was no competition, but that was never announced, and since the main show didn't start until 9 (a half hour late)…..that mean a lot of people were sitting on their asses in a freezing room for nearly two hours before the interminable two hour show started.  That is just ridiculous.   If I had to guess at the number one reason that many people don't go back to Congresses it would be this fact alone, and there just seems to be no reason for it.  Not to mention that this is maybe the 6th year in a row there hasn't been enough competitors for a semi-finals….why not just hold that event during the day (we're going to see pretty much the same acts in the finals anyways and I, for one, only need to see them once)….and start the evening show at 7pm–or 6!!!  

GRIPE #2:  I learned long ago that if you want to see the shows, you have to pay the piper and buy VIP seats…..but if you aren't in that front section, you might as well stay home and get the DVD because even at the front of the regular seats (this year starting 30 rows back!!), you won't see anything below the waste unless you are watching it on the video screen.  Recently I went to the Reno Dance Sensation and was the perfect formula for a dancers events….the stage has risers on three sides giving everyone a very close and person vantage of the action.  Even in the sixth row, it was hard to see the dancers feet…..and I find that moderately insane (for a dance event) as well.

Ok, with all of that out of my system, I was truly very excited to see Saturday night's performances.  All the SF Bay Area teams represented well, and I loved seeing RicaSalsa's routine on the big stage…..it was made for that venue!  SalsaMania was spot on, as was PB&G. From Japan, one could not do anything but marvel at the PHENOMENAL body motion of Mitsue.  She came out dressed as a guy and had most people fooled until Albert revealed he true identity at the end.  Another treat from Japan was Wabasabi under the direction or Ryoko, now running solo and with a very theatrical first effort.  I'm looking forward to more from her.  Callajeros from Salt Lake were predictably funny and charming…..they never fail to come up with a crazy idea and really make it work. 

3) Sunday Night - The competition finals were fun and exciting as always….and for me the number one reason to stay on Sunday night!  Albert announced they were hoping to have an announcement for the next World Salsa Championships (for which this would be a qualifier) with the event probably taking place at either the Vegas or Orlando Hard Rock's in early January.  As there weren't enough couples to justify separate on1 and on2 divisions, the six couples were all put in one group…..with Christian and Liz putting on a near-flawless show that made them the absolute clear winners.  I can only image no one came close to them in the scoring.   There were only two teams in the mix for that competition, with the bay area's RicaSalsa readily beating a not very polished team from Tijuana.  (Congratulations RicaSalsa!!!)

After a short interlude, Albert proceeded with what turned out to the best shows of the weekend.  While a number of routines were marred by mistakes (way more than usual), there were some incredibly beautiful routines.   SalsaMania, however, hit their stride with a very powerful  performance, as did Junior and Emily, Yamulee, Hache y Machete, and Tito and Tamara, and the show-stopping Eli and Yen. 

But if Eli and Yen were the show stoppers, it was Dave and Zoe Parris and Alex Lee and Kim Zamora who put on the show of a lifetime, and had the crowd jumping up and down in their seats and howling in delight.  I don't want to give away the secret to this performance, but Albert put these two sets of tricksters up to an on-stage competition of the physical strength and high-flying abilities….and Dave and Zoe, and Alex and Kim did no disappoint.  Who knew that Alex Lee was so funny with a microphone in his hands?!  Needless to say, when people left their seats to clear the room, it was with the complete exhaustion of having laughed so wonderfully hard.

THE CONCERTS - I have to confess, I don't really know Gilberto Santa Rosa that well, but shortly after his band started up, I knew it was something so special that I was torn between running out to find my wife Kayono so she wouldn't miss it…..and not wanting to leave the room for fear of missing a second of it.  It was so good that on Saturday afternoon, Eddie Torres ended his workshop by saying "Did you guys see what happened on stage last night.  I have been around a long time, and that was so magical for me, I ran to Albert to see if he had gotten it on tape, because that was truly memorable."  Other World Champions like Ricardo Sanchez of Pretty Boys and Girls in San Jose were heard to tell Albert that is was the best concert they had ever seen at a Congress.  It was simply that good.  Son Boricua and Johnny Polanco rocked the house in fine fashion on Saturday and Sunday, but almost a month later, its Gilberto Santa Rosa that is still giving me chills.  That was worth the price of the entire weekend and more….

Wait, is that the SecretSalsera I see staggering back into the dance room?  Ok folks, back to her….

So there you have it, the 2009 Los Angeles Salsa Congress.  Definitely a winner.

Next stop: the Paris Mambo Festival from June 5^th to June 7^th.  Will you be there?  Or more importantly, will you be here?  Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.”  Viva la salsa!

April: Flava Invasion 2009

Only a few days after returning home from the Reno Dance Sensation I was packing up again for another April event, Flava Invasion 4: “Chaotica” in Atlanta, Georgia.  The event is presented by The Revolu Experience and Gordon Neil. 

I had been hearing about Flava Invasion for a while and then when “Diego,” the sweet and sexy salsero who had won my heart last year at the San Francisco Salsa Congress, told me that he’d be going, I decided this would be a good year to check it out.  

And I am very grateful that I made that decision when I did because I later learned that this would be Flava’s 4^th and final year.  Not only was I lucky to not miss my last opportunity to find out what all the hype was about, but also I had heard they were planning to go out with a bang, so there was a good chance I’d be coming back with some great memories.

Atlanta was the farthest I’d traveled to a salsa event since Acapulco.  I had gotten used to the short 1 to 2 hour flights to places like Southern California and Arizona, but Atlanta was a whopping 5 hours and 2 flights away from home.  As we approached Salt Lake City, where I had my stopover, the flight attendant gave us what she presented as bad news… we had lost 1 hour of our day because of the time change… but what was bad news to everyone else, was actually good news to me because that meant I was an extra hour closer to the start of the event and by the time I’d arrive on the East Coast, I would be 3 extra hours closer!

Another personal benefit of the time change was that when the after parties were just getting started around 3:00am, it was only going to feel like midnight to me so I’d be full of energy!  Partying on the East Coast was beginning to make a lot of sense, which is good because I already have plans to attend the Orlando Salsa Congress, the Montreal Summer Mambo Festival, the New York Salsa Congress, and the Philadelphia SalsaFest this year!

When I arrived in Atlanta I immediately found my way to the MARTA, the local metro system that I had to take to the house of a congress friend, “Armando,” where I’d be getting ready and starting the party with my typical pre-party ritual; tequila shots!  All the party prep took a little longer than we expected, as it usually does, and by the time we got to the event we were disappointed to find out we’d missed most of the performances.  And from the last few we saw, we knew we had missed something good.

After the performances ended we were asked to step out of the ballroom so they could clear the dance floor of all of the chairs.  This was pretty standard at a salsa event but what wasn’t standard was the length of the wait.  I was told that they wanted to re-open the ballroom exactly at midnight so in order to do that they made us wait for what felt like forever… well, maybe it was only about half an hour… but it was long enough to get bored, frustrated, and end up at the bar with a drink.

There were a few other indications of not ideal organization such as the dance floor that was falling apart in many places, but overall, at Flava the good BY FAR outweighed the bad.  So now that we’ve gotten all the bad things out of the way, let’s get to the good stuff!

First of all, the dancing was incredible.  I’d say I was very pleased with at least 90% of my dances, who could complain about that?  Most of the dancers seemed to prefer to dance On 2, like me, but many of them asked before starting the dance suggesting that they knew how to lead both styles. 

Then again, followers be warned that this question can sometimes get you in trouble when you make the mistake of stating your preference to a lead that is actually more comfortable with the other style.  I usually leave it up to the lead to do what he feels when he hears the song, but if I get the vibe that he’s really open to my opinion, I might mention that I feel more comfortable On 2.

While I ended up really enjoying the dancing, it was a little hard for me to get started.  Unlike other events I have been attending which have mostly been on the West Coast, I knew very few people in Atlanta and very few people knew me so I wasn’t getting asked to dance as often as I was used to. 

I thought maybe when people saw me dance and saw that I was a decent follow who was happy and having fun my invitations might increase, but it didn’t really work like that.  I came up with a theory that perhaps I’m at an awkward stage where I’m a little intimidating to the newer leads but not good enough to be asked by the really good leads… or even the intermediate leads who take the opportunity at congress to dance with the really good followers to improve their own skills.

I was also hoping that Armando, who was a local, would introduce me to a few people or at least recommend who I should dance with (that is something I tend to do automatically when salsa friends visit from out of town) but that wasn’t happening either. 

I didn’t want to just stand around and wait, so I took a look around at who might be a fun lead and started asking people to dance.

I felt like I had really good chemistry with most of the people I danced with but it’s sometimes hard to tell.  It is generally expected in salsa that you will dance with a person only once in the night.  There may be a few people you like to dance with multiple times but even then, you usually don’t dance with the same person to two consecutive songs.  So after the first time you dance with someone, you typically thank them and walk away and are sometimes left with a lingering doubt as to whether they enjoyed the dance as much as you did.  The doubt is later cleared up when they either ask you again or seem to avoid you. 

Another thing I liked about Flava was that it was a very diverse crowd, both with respect to ethnicity as well as where people were from.  I met people from Georgia, Florida, and other states on the East Coast, Texas, Montreal, France and many other places.  And, of course, there were a few of us representing California. 

And there was plenty of eye candy; attractive men and women, dressed to impress… including Diego with whom I was finally reuniting for the first time after 6 months.  He’ll never know he was one of the main reasons I decided to come out to Flava but my heart certainly did.  And the best part was, he saved the last dance on Friday night for me.

But then he went to eat, and I went to… can you guess?  If you’ve been following my blog you probably guessed that I went to find an after-party.  The after-parties can make or break an event for me and Flava’s after-parties MADE it!

It all started when someone busted into the room and threw both of the beds up against the wall.  Now, I’ve been to more than a few hotel after-parties but I have to say I’ve never seen this.  I mean how many times have you been at an after-party trying to dance in between the beds wishing you could have just a little more space?  And it was always just that simple.

So we danced… a full room of people and everyone was dancing.  We danced hip hop, reggaeton, bachata and even some zouk, whatever was steamy and sexy.  And we kept dancing, with no security interruptions until 7:00am when the people who were staying in the room decided they wanted to go to sleep.

That’s when the reality sat in that Armando had already gone home and I had no other place to stay.  Luckily a friend who was at the party with me had a room at a hotel not too far away and he so graciously decided to rescue me… not completely unselfishly, of course, as he knew he’d sleep much better in my presence.

I woke up the next day, still wearing the clothes from the night before as all of my clothes were at the place I was supposed to be staying.  I didn’t feel comfortable attending workshops dressed in the same skimpy little yellow dress I had so elegantly flaunted on the dance floor so I decided to stay in bed a few more hours and wait for Armando to get back to the hotel with my stuff. 

When he finally got there it was time for me to make the “walk of shame” back to the hotel… you know, last night’s clothes, messy hair, and the words “I have misbehaved” written all over my face.   Now, the reality is, I’ve made this “walk of shame” plenty of times at salsa events but usually it’s just from one hotel room to another and most of the time it goes unnoticed.  There was that one time that I had to walk right through a crowded lobby when all of the workshops were going on but that was by far the worst.

My Atlanta “walk of shame” set a new record, however, because this walk took place between two hotels that were about a mile apart.  I slipped on my heels, fixed up my hair as well as I could, and held my chin up high… but I still didn’t get away with it.  There were obvious double takes, a few cat calls, and even a request for a photo.  Then when I finally got to the safety of my own hotel’s elevator, a guy asked if I was the girl who had just been walking down Peachtree Street. 

Apparently Atlanta’s not used to girls like me dressing like that while walking through downtown on a Saturday afternoon.

When I got back to the hotel I picked up a program.  After putting myself through that horrible walk of shame, I must have been looking to punish myself even more because that’s what I did by opening up the program and seeing what I had missed.  There was Ladies’ Footwork with Ana Masacote and Burju Hurturk and Partnering Connection with Gordon Neil and Magna Gopal.  There was also Cha Cha Partner/Footwork Combination with Juan Matos and Amneris Martinez and Afro Cuban with Ana Llorente and Gordon Neil. 

Then I tried to go out to the pool but it was simply too hot so instead I joined Armando and a few of his friends for lunch.  As they were all from Georgia and Florida, the conversation was focused on the upcoming events in the East Coast salsa scene.  It was so hard for me to listen to everything that I’d be missing, even though I knew I’d be back soon for the Orlando Salsa Congress.

Overcome by food coma, I went straight for a nap in the hotel room that Armando had arranged for us for the next two nights.  But this time, we set our alarms so that we’d be sure not to miss the performances.

And I was so glad that I did that.  Despite some technical difficulties with the lighting and sound, the performances were exceptional, most of all for their diversity and creativity, which made the overall presentation unlike any other I’d seen. 

They had set up five stages.  The main stage in the front was used for team and couple routines which included only about 30 - 50% salsa.  The opening routine was a brilliant performance of African dancing and drumming by AfriSalsa Roots Suite.  The remaining routines included Afro Cuban, pachanga, cha cha, and other styles.  One of my favorite parts of the performances was the music.  If they put all of the songs together in a soundtrack, I’d be the first to buy it.

Then there were four small stages on the sides where they highlighted individual dancers between the team and couple routines.  There were a few male hip hop dancers and then there was the multi-talented Ana Llorente.  And when I say multi-talented, please allow me to emphasize the ‘multi.’  This girl is out of control.  She graced us with her presence multiple times, capturing our attention each time with a completely different look and style of dance including salsa, Afro Cuban, jazz, and modern.

Another thing I really enjoyed about the performances was how they set the vibe for the rest of the night.  I carried all of the emotion, inspiration, and energy into my own social dancing later on, contributing to what ended up being another incredible night, perhaps even better than Friday as I had the benefit of now being surrounded by so many new friends. 

The place was packed, which meant many carpet dances as the floors were not big enough to accommodate everyone.  And this night, I could barely take a break as there was no shortage of people to dance with.  There were numerous repeats from the night before, settling my doubts about whether or not they enjoyed our first dance.  But there were also plenty of new ones as I started to really make my way into the East Coast scene.  To top it all off, I managed to get in a few dances with one of my personal favorites, Diego.

And then of course it was that time again, time to run around collecting room numbers for potential parties, which I did until I had so many I had to go get a pen and paper to write them down.  But only two numbers were needed to create the perfect follow-up for such a beautiful evening, 2711 and 1711.  These rooms were both at the end of the hall where there were fewer neighbors to potentially disturb, but nonetheless, unlike the night before one of them ended up getting broken up.  Not before we got in a few good dances, though, with the beds once again flipped against the walls.

When we were forced to leave, some of us moved to the other party where we walked right into a zouk lesson.  I was pretty excited to see what I might learn, but unfortunately my partner on the other hand took it as an opportunity to try to molest me.  After giving in to a few kisses, I realized it was getting more intense than I desired and decided to slip away and scope out the rest of the scene.  That’s when I spotted someone I had had my eye on since the night before when I first noticed his smooth moves on the dance floor. 

I guess I caught his attention too because soon enough we were wrapped in each other’s arms… and this time I wasn’t going anywhere because his approach was far better than the first guy’s molest and conquer approach.  This guy smothered me with romance and compliments, telling me how beautiful I was and how much he liked me, and with his cute little accent I totally went for it until suddenly with our lips locked I noticed the first guy checking us out… oh well, I’ve come to learn that’s just salsa… and so was the part where I found out that Mr. Romance’s girlfriend was waiting for him back at their room.

Saturday night we made it all the way to 8:00am and when I got back to my room I found a guy sleeping in my bed.  Well not just any guy.  He was a friend of Armando’s.  No worries though, I always prefer a cuddle buddy to an empty cold bed so I crawled right in and got my cuddle on.

Well, as you can imagine, having gone to bed at 8:00am, I didn’t make it to many workshops on Sunday either.  In fact, I only made it to one, but it was The One.  The workshop was called, “Flava Invasion All Stars: The Cha Cha Experiment.”  Organized by Gordon Neil himself, the instructors included Ana Masacote, Burju Hurturk, Magna Gopal, Leon Rose, Julissa Cruz, Sekou McMiller, Juan Matos, Tito Ortos, Joby Brava, and others.  Each instructor was given the challenge to choreograph and teach 8 cha cha counts which would then be combined into a single routine. 

As each instructor had his or her own style, so did each of the 8 counts.  Some were more funky while others were more elegant.  And their personalities varied as much as their dance styles so it was a trip to watch them instruct and interact.  Juan Matos was running all over the place making silly comments, Leon Rose was talking gibberish, and Gordon Neil was cracking jokes. 

Most people taking the workshop were not able to get the full routine.  In fact, I gave up half-way through when Joby Brava did some sort of pirouette (honestly, I don’t know what the heck it was) and found a comfortable patch of carpet where I could lay down next to a couple new friends and passively allow the moment to amaze me.  The instructors had me in awe as they picked up anything and everything that was thrown at them and when they finally put it all together at the end I was absolutely blown away. 

The workshop was followed by a group lunch at Hooters of all places.  Now, I’d never go out of my way to eat at Hooters but with the opportunity to eat in the presence of superstars like Juan Matos, my little star-struck self blindly followed the pack. 

I started off the meal with a Bloody Mary, following a friend’s suggestion that we get some much-needed antioxidants into our body.  As my stomach was empty, I got a good buzz, which increased the enjoyment of the rest of the meal.  Plus, I was seated next to a few people that I had not yet met and I always love to meet new people.

The late lunch was followed by another food coma nap that I was reluctantly forced to cut short to get ready for the night’s festivities.  The Sunday night after-party took place at a club called Sugarhill Lounge and Nightclub which was a short taxi ride away from the hotel.  I was exhausted from two nights of very late after-parties but there was no way I was going to give up.

The club was packed and the attendees included most of the “Flava All-Stars” who, having awed me at that last workshop, had become like salsa royalty to me.  I don’t know why these East Coast superstars seemed so much more exotic than salsa superstars I had previously met.  Perhaps it is simply that they were novel to me, but I really felt there was something special about them… their style, their attitude, just something.  Whatever it was, I credit them for my having enough energy to make it through one last night. 

I danced a few songs and then took a break to watch the other dancers.  That’s when my eyes fell upon a brand new crush.  As I watched him dance my entire body tingled with excitement.  It’s hard to explain, although I imagine it’s a common experience that may not even need explanation, but there are certain movements when a guy is dancing that just really get to me.  And besides his incredible talent, this guy was hot.  Hot appearance, hot attitude (well, as far as I could tell from his dancing) and hot style. 

There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to meet this guy, as I am not one to let these moments pass me by. 

As soon as the song was over, I asked him to dance and he accepted!  It seemed to all be going so smoothly until I realized the DJ had just chosen a bachata.  While of course it was an ultimate dream to be smothered in all of his sexiness, it just was not the time yet.

Because the dance tends to be very intimate, especially when done correctly, I usually don’t ask someone I have never met to dance bachata.  And apparently he felt a little awkward too because he seemed to keep some distance between us, which is not the ideal way to truly enjoy a bachata. 

Being the direct person that I tend to be, towards the end of the song I decided to bring all the awkwardness out into the open.  I asked him if he had a girlfriend nearby that might be making it uncomfortable to dance a little closer.  He quickly assured me that he did not have a girlfriend, introduced himself as “Carlos,” and then also assured me that he’d be looking for me later. 

I nearly fainted.

Just then another bachata song came on and this time I was attacked from behind by a very talented dancer that I had first met in Salt Lake City.  This bachata made up big time for all the distance Carlos put between us.  In fact, it was possibly the closest bachata I’ve ever danced in my life.  He held on tight as he could and didn’t let go until the very last note.  Now that was hot.

But then the music stopped completely.  It was time for Gordon Neil to debut his new band.  The band was good, but the music wasn’t salsa so after a while many of us salseros started getting antsy.  So what’s a bunch of salseros to do at a club when there isn’t any salsa to dance to?…drink! 

Everyone started loading up on the alcohol.  I myself had a few drinks.  I notice my new crush, Carlos, downing a very strong Long Island.  And everyone else did their share in making multiple trips to the bar.

Eventually the salsa finally came back on, and with the illusion of confidence and a little impulsiveness that usually follows a few good drinks, I went straight up to Juan Matos and asked him to dance.  Now as far as I saw over the weekend, Juan Matos doesn’t do a whole lot of social dancing and when he does, he is usually doing it with other salsa royalty. 

But somehow I thought I was the girl who was going to get him to change his ways… until then I blew it.  After asking him to dance, I asked whether he minded that I was wasted.  His response, we’d better wait for “algo mas tranquilo,” a slower, calmer song. 

Yeah right, like I’d be able to get up the nerve to ask him again when a slower song came on, risking a very likely second rejection.  And he certainly wasn’t going to come find me.  So basically… I just had to swallow my pride and keep enjoying the night.

I decided to distract myself by dancing with some of the other salsa superstars and ended up having a great time.  I danced, I watched, and I met all kinds of new and interesting people. 

The whole experience had me in a perfectly content awestruck daze… and then it happened, the moment that I will never forget for the rest of my life.  Juan Matos pulled me on the dance floor.  Yes, you read that correctly, Mr. Salsa Royalty himself pulled little old me, the Secret Salsera, on the dance floor.  And as far as I remember, the song was definitely not ‘mas tranquilo’ but nonetheless I think I pulled it off… or maybe that was just another alcohol illusion.  But since I’ll never know, I’m just gonna’ believe that I did!

When we got back to the hotel, a bunch of us congregated on the hallway floor in a drunken stupor, not ready for the event to come to a close.  We said our goodbyes to new friends and old friends who passed us by, including a group of a few guys and a girl who were on their way to a nearby room.  About 20 minutes later the girl came out alone, only this time her hair was a bit messier and her clothes somewhat rearranged.  A little last minute congress fun, I suppose.

And then we finally decided to call it a night.  With only a couple hours before my flight I decided to put on my day clothes and set my alarm.  My bags were already packed so I’d just rest my eyes for a moment and then take off as soon as my alarm went off.

Yeah right!

I passed the f@$% out.  My sleep was so deep that I didn’t feel the vibration of the phone or hear the repeating and ascending Aguanile alarm tone.  I woke up 4 hours later and the clock said 10:45am… that was half an hour AFTER my scheduled flight and I was a half an hour away from the airport. 

Oops… actually BIG oops because I was scheduled to work that evening.

I said a very quick goodbye to Armando and his friend, rushed out the door, hopped on the MARTA and, running like a mad-woman, made my way to the Delta help desk, only to be told that Atlanta is NOT a good city in which to sleep through one’s alarm. 

Apparently all flights going west were full and I was basically out of luck.  The lady told me to try United, but the best deal I found was $400 to get back in the evening… at least I’d be there for work the next day.  

United told me to try Delta again and when I did, a seat had suddenly opened up and, although the full ticket price was the same as United, the lady helping me agreed to waive a $150 “you screwed up” fee.  So, for only $250 I’d be flying back on Delta, still arriving in the evening in time for work on Tuesday.  I wanted to give her a big fat hug as she swiped my credit card and I signed away $250, but she told me it wasn’t necessary.

I had half a day before my new flight so I sat myself down on the floor next to an outlet while I charged my phone and called everyone in my support system to tell them my sob story.  As I was sitting there, two of the new friends I had made at Hooters walked by and invited me to have lunch with them.  It was a great way to kill most of my wait time as getting a meal in the South tends to be a long, slow process, even at the airport. 

With my belly full and my mood lifted, I made my way to my departure gate where I encountered a mob of angry people who were being booted off the flight because they had over-booked by 12 people!  It didn’t make any sense to me why I was booked on an over-booked flight at the very last minute, but it worked in my favor because they gave me 400 Delta Dollars to take a later flight.  Basically I got my $250 back plus more!  Enough to buy my ticket to Philadelphia for the SalsaFest in October!

Well, eventually I got home, but it was nothing short of an adventure.  And believe me, I had learned my lesson.  With all the traveling I will be doing this year… I really have to watch those Sunday nights.

Next stop: the Los Angeles Salsa Congress from May 21^st through May 24^th.  Will you be there?  Or more importantly, will you be here?  Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.”  Viva la salsa!

April: Reno Dance Sensation 2009

In April I ended up attending two events, despite my original plan to attend one per month. The first was Reno Dance Sensation (RDS), which I have affectionately re-named Reno Drama Sensation, and you are about to find out why.

RDS is produced by Dance Sensation, LLC with the help of Chuck Brown, a local from Reno, Nevada where the event takes place. The website says the event is “focused” on West Coast Swing and Salsa, but I beg to differ.

This was RDS’ 6^th year and the West Coast Swing part of the event had already been well established, attracting hundreds of WCS dancers from all over the U.S. Alternatively, the salsa part of the event was still struggling. While the workshops may have attracted as many as 100 attendees, the social dancing at night was practically empty. This was a big surprise to the both the organizers and the attendees as Chuck had made a real effort this year to expand the salsa part of the event.

Last year apparently one single salsa company, Salsamania from Oakland, California, dominated at RDS. Salsamania is a huge company with an On 1 training team, an On 2 training team, and performing teams at the amateur, semi-professional, and professional levels. Because of its enormous size, some people jokingly refer to the company as the Salsamania Empire. Not only did they provide most of the instruction last year, but dancers from their company made up many of the attendees.

This year Chuck was encouraged to invite other salsa instructors and it was clear that he listened carefully to this advice. The 6^th RDS boasted a star-studded line-up of world-renowned salsa dancers including Victor and Gaby (Mexico), Abel and Zulmara (Los Angeles), Junior and Emily (San Francisco/San Diego) , Enrique and Elly (San Francisco), Ricardo and Tianne (San Francisco), Espie Hernandez (Los Angeles), and Felipe Martinez (San Francisco) in addition to Salsamania’s Jhon and Liz (Oakland). He also invited Rodney “Rodchata” Aquino, a popular Bachata instructor from San Francisco who has been involved in RDS for many years.

There was a whole lot of buzz around the Bay Area that this year’s RDS was going to be off the hook and so even though I had already planned an event for April (Flava Invasion in Atlanta, Georgia) I decided to add it to my list.

And remember Sophie from Arizona Congress?… one of my closest salsa friends and favorite party-mates? Well, she and her boyfriend had been making great strides in their relationship and would actually be attending this event together. With one of my favorite girls attending, I knew I was in store for a good time.

As Sophie would be sharing a room with her boyfriend, I made arrangements to stay with a congress friend from another state. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, he had to bail out at the last minute. Being the reliable friend that he is, he quickly arranged for me to stay with his friend “Adina,” who he assured was very well-connected at the event and would take good care of me. Slightly anxious as I barely knew Adina, but without another option, I decided to accept the offer.

I had to work on Friday and figured I wouldn’t feel like driving after a long day at work so instead I took the short 45 minute flight and was in Reno by 9:00pm. Adina had told me to just come straight to the room when I arrived and she would be waiting for me. I hopped on the free shuttle from the airport to the Grand Sierra Resort and Casino and navigated the maze to our room.

As I approached the room, I was greeted by loud conversation and laughter escaping through the door they had propped open for my arrival. I made my way in and was surprisingly welcomed by a few familiar faces, more than a few unfamiliar faces, and a ton of food and alcohol. I had definitely come to the right place.

I jumped right into the conversation (something about the recent Alex da Silva scandal)… and then talked some people into taking a few shots with me as I quickly got ready for the performances.

On the way to the main ballroom, I stopped by Sophie’s room to pick her up along with her boyfriend and a couple other friends. That’s when I got a call and a brief visit from a very special congress friend… just a little tease for what was to come later. So far, RDS was proving to have great potential.

The performances included both salsa and swing. I had never really seen West Coast Swing before and was blown away. I think what impressed me the most was the musicality.

West Coast Swing can be danced to almost any kind of music. Many of the dancers chose hip hop and Top 40 songs, but it can be danced to blues, country, R & B and apparently just about anything. It seemed that the songs they chose to perform to had more variation than the average salsa song in terms of speed changes, breaks, and other points of interest and the dancers’ ability to match their movements to those points of interest was remarkable. The routines were powerfully emotional and brought tears to my eyes multiple times.

Unfortunately, and surprisingly, I was less impressed by the salsa performances, although I later realized that part of what I enjoyed about the swing dancing was simply the novelty. After I had seen more of it, my fascination was somewhat less intense.

Towards the end of the performances, Vasilli, a professional salsa dancer from Seattle, entered the stage for his usual solo musical act except that this time the act ended up not being so “usual.” This particular performance concluded in a huge surprise for his girlfriend, now fiancé, who happens to be a professional swing dancer. On one knee, he professed his love to Christina who, after a bit of delay, popped out of the crowd to accept his proposal of marriage. It was a very touching moment (…or at least that might be the politically-correct thing to say).

When the performances ended, the swing dancers took over the large ballroom, and the salsa dancers were scooted out to a smaller room that, despite being small, barely masked the fact that hardly anyone was there. Basically there were the superstar dancers who, if you are lucky, will dance with you one time per night and then just a few beginning/intermediate dancers to fill the rest of the time.

I very quickly found myself bored out of my mind.

In fact, I think I can count the number of times I danced that night… once with Victor Burgos, once with Junior Alabi, once with Ricardo Tellez and maybe once or twice with the non-professional dancers. I also had one dance with a professional swing dancer, Doug Silton, who was actually a pretty decent salsa lead.

Oh, and then there was half a song with Abel Pena… half a song only because we were both too drunk to get through the whole song and I went flying into another couple. For some reason my being drunk didn’t seem to be a problem with anyone else but Abel’s LA Style lead must have been a little too rough for me at the time.

After standing around for a few songs I was really losing my patience. I knew I needed to do something to rescue this experience so, as usual, I started searching for trouble. And I quickly found it when I bumped into that “very special congress friend” who had teased me with a brief visit earlier in the night.

After a slightly longer visit, I felt refreshed and re-energized and went back to the event only to find that it was sadly dying and the DJ was ready to pack up and go. Honestly it couldn’t have been later than 2:00am or, at most, 3:00am and the swing dancers in the other room were still going strong. But nonetheless it was what it was… and in this case, it was over. And to make it worse, there weren’t even any exciting invitations for an after-party.

Tired from a long week, I decided to call it a night and get some much needed rest in hopes that Saturday night might bring me a miracle. Soon after I got to the room, Adina showed up. She had been drinking since the early afternoon and was also ready to crash. But neither of us was going to let the night go that easy. Instead, as Adina had been dancing salsa for about 10 years and swing for at least a few, I decided to pick her brain for the next hour or so and learn all about the ins and outs of both scenes.

I learned that, although there are some similarities between the two styles of dancing, West Coast Swing is considered a more complex dance than salsa. For example, WCS has four different basic steps while salsa has only one. Because WCS is more complex, a swing dancer can usually learn to dance salsa easier than a salsa dancer can learn to dance swing.

And, although she did not say it directly, throughout the weekend I got the message that WCS dancers think they are better than salsa dancers in one way or another, perhaps because of their greater ability to pick up the other dance which some might believe suggests superior dance skills.

Also, they are much more strictly regulated. Swing dancers are required to collect points through competing in order to be able to use labels for themselves such as “advanced” or “professional,” unlike salsa dancers who can call themselves whatever makes them feel good… or important.

A couple other pieces of advice gifted to me from this wise and experienced salsera: first, she emphasized the importance of saying yes every time one is asked to dance because she has found that turning people down is one of the most harmful things a follower can do to her reputation. If you have read my earlier episodes, you already know my stance on this issue and I have to say that she didn’t really convince me otherwise. But I will respect her opinion.

And second, she said, “Do not get involved in The Scene!” This wasn’t really a shocker as I’ve always known The Scene is not for everyone and can be particularly dangerous to those who seek meaning and depth in their relationships with others. In fact, I’ve watched many people take extended “salsa breaks” because they couldn’t handle the intensity of The Scene but, personally, I thrive on it.

So, take it or leave it… straight from the mouth of an experienced salsera. While I think it is useful advice for some, I obviously chose to leave it.

Saturday morning I was awoken by the intense burning sensation of severely chapped lips. The air is very dry in Reno and I had forgotten my chapstick… big mistake. My lips were so puffed up and red, it looked like I had injected them with collagen and then permanently tattooed my lipstick. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little, but the point is, if you go to Reno don’t forget your chapstick and, especially if you are drinking alcohol, remember to stay hydrated.

My first activity of the day was a quebradita class with Victor and Gaby from Mexico. Quebradita is a modern Mexican American dance that became popular in the southwestern United States during the early to mid 1990’s. Victor and Gaby are famous for combining quebradita with salsa in their routines.

As usual, I had a hard time focusing on the workshop and so I decided to just sit back and be fascinated by Victor’s ability to be so silly and yet so sexy all at the same time. If you ever have a chance to take a workshop with Victor, I highly recommend you take advantage of it.

Then it was time for the swing competition, or should I say, competitions. Adina was going to be competing so I decided to skip the rest of the Latin dance workshops and go support her.

The competitions lasted all afternoon starting with the Novice Jack and Jill at 2:00pm and ending with the Master’s Jack and Jill at 7:00pm. At each level there was a preliminary round and a final round and the Novice level had an additional semi-final round. So that the WSC dancers could focus on the competitions, all the swing workshops were scheduled in the morning.

I was intrigued by this focus on competition and spent a great deal of time trying to wrap my brain around it. In salsa we have many competitions including couple’s competitions, team competitions, world salsa championship qualifiers and Jack and Jill’s, but these events are typically balanced equally with other activities such as workshops, performances, and social dancing. The balance is important to meet the diverse interests of the dancers as not all dancers like to compete or perform.

The swing dancers, on the other hand, even had a competition that started at midnight on Friday night and lasted for a couple hours before they were finally allowed to start the social dancing. Of course, many of them ended up social dancing until 6:00am so they definitely got their time on the dance floor, but something about it still didn’t sit right with me.

I understand the competitions are necessary so that dancers have the opportunity to collect points and improve their classification but I’m still not buying the whole system 100%. I mean, doesn’t it really depend on how many competitions you are able to participate in as well as the level of competition at the events in which you compete? I bet there are some pretty amazing swing dancers out there who don’t feel like competing or don’t have time to attend competitions and so they still have to call themselves “novice.”

And in the end, who really cares what a person calls themselves??? Whether the dancer chooses to call himself professional or not, a person should choose their instructor based on the instructor’s teaching ability and style.

I know plenty of people who have earned the title professional through performance and competition but have not earned my student dues because I don’t like the way they teach or even the way they dance. Then there are others who don’t seek professional status by competing or performing but are nonetheless excellent teachers.

Anyway, after watching Adina compete, I got to fake that I was a professional by helping my friend teach a workshop (ooh, the unethical deception!). Well, actually I just stood in as his puppet but I bet I was able to fool at least a few of those unsuspecting students.

When the workshop ended, I had only one hour before my own Open Level Salsa Jack and Jill so I rushed over to Sophie’s room where she was considerately waiting with some dinner, a couple shots of tequila, and an already heated hair straightener to help get me ready for my big moment.

I barged into the room with a “bridezilla” attitude and started giving orders immediately. Summoning every last ounce of her patience, Sophie managed to tolerate my insanity and ensure that I was ready just in time.

There were two levels of the Jack and Jill and both were judged by professional dancers as opposed to the audience. Unlike the Jack and Jill’s at other salsa-specific events, this competition was particularly tame. Everyone ended up fully clothed with both feet on the floor.

My first partner was a professional swing dancer who, despite all of his anxiety about dancing salsa, put on a very good show. My second partner, a ballroom dancer, was less successful with the salsa but we focused on just having a good time. Nonetheless, I made it to the finals where I was finally matched with a salsa dancer. I felt it went well but would not know the results until the awards ceremony which was scheduled to take place the following day.

As soon as that was over, I was ready for the excitement to be turned up a notch. A couple of my girls and I went upstairs for a few drinks and some girl-time and then we found ourselves a decent room party. The party had just started revving up when everyone realized that it was almost time for the midnight bachata competition that many of us had signed up for.

All at once, the entire unruly mob filed out of the room and made our way downstairs. Then those of us who believed this was our night to earn a coveted spot in the Bachata Hall of Fame took our places on the dance floor.

Regrettably, this competition did not go as well as the salsa competition for me. Just after meeting the person with whom I was destined to make bachata history, I received the unfortunate news that he didn’t really know how to dance bachata but had joined the competition because they didn’t have enough leaders.

It was just so unfair. Okay, so he helped the competition… but he hurt me. Was I supposed to be grateful?

At that moment the tequila took control and asked the poor guy whether he’d allow me to lead. He graciously said I could, but only after he ran out of moves. So as soon as I noticed him hesitating, I’d say after about four measures or so, I started pulling him around the dance floor. Needless to say, we weren’t able to fool the judges and were quickly eliminated only to find that we never had a chance as the ultimate winners were a girl on girl couple.

The competition was followed by social dancing that was, once again, nothing to write home about. So here’s where all the drama really heated up and earned this event the nickname “Reno Drama Sensation.”

Bored out of our minds with nothing to entertain ourselves, we contracted what I will call “small town syndrome.” Just like a bunch of kids growing up in a small town with nothing to do, we were forced to create some drama to liven things up.

Rumors were flying around about how one of the professional salseros had so UN-professionally harassed a bunch of the women. Apparently he was going around trying to molest whomever he could get his hands on and no one was having it.

The swing dancers couldn’t believe that a professional dancer would behave in this way. How dare he do these things when he had been hired to be at the event; he would never be hired at one of their events again!

Alternatively, the salsa dancers didn’t seem so bothered by it. Perhaps we have become jaded after enduring numerous molestation attempts throughout our salsa dancing careers. Or maybe it’s simply the culture that encourages us to look away.

From my experience I have come to understand that most salseros are going to try, but as soon as I turn them down, they respect it. There is an expression in Spanish that says, “la mujer manda,” the woman demands, which, when applied to this context mean that the woman decides how far things will go… but that doesn’t prevent the man from going for the goods!

The next rumor was about a girl who had apparently had a little too much to drink and was found skinny dipping in the pool… look for vids on YouTube, who knows what you'll find.

And then there was the typical "couple drama" that really should have remained private but somehow leaked out into this small, small world of salsa.  Certainly not the first, nor the last time that that will happen.

And while all of those salseros were wrapped up in their own little mini-novelas, they left the other salseros hungry for entertainment.  So one person started talking about another person… then that person was talking about some other person… until ultimately I hit the top of the gossip list.

What could anyone possibly have to say about ME??? Hmmm….

All this drama sucked the energy right out of me and again, with no especially inviting after-party, I gave up and went to sleep on the early side.

My flight was scheduled for Sunday evening, so having gone to sleep early I was able to get up at a reasonable hour and check out a few more event activities including one last workshop (Espie Hernandez’ Ladies Styling) and Adina’s final swing competition.

Then I finished packing and made my way to the airport. The awards ceremony took place just after I arrived at the airport so I wasn’t able to attend. Sophie called with the results of the Salsa Jack and Jill but if I shared them with you here, you might figure out who I am and I wouldn’t be so “secret” anymore. So let’s just say, I wasn’t disappointed.

So there you have it, the Reno Drama Sensation, aka Reno Dance Sensation. I’d say the event has potential but it’s definitely not there yet and I’m not quite sure what it will take to get it there. I’m sure Chuck and Dance Sensation, LLC are open to suggestions.

Next stop: Atlanta’s Flava Invasion from April 24^th until April 27^th. Will you be there? Or more importantly, will you be here? Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.” Viva la salsa!

On Saturday night I went to the Conga Room in downtown (because Granada, my usual Saturday spot, was apparently half-closed for a special event).  Not quite sure where the rumor came from that the Conga Room is a salsa venue on Saturday nights, but I will take it upon myself to destroy that rumor right now. 

What more do I have to say than that the Stevenson Sisters were salsa go-go dancing on platforms at the front of the club?!  Something about it just isn’t right.

Then there was the fact that they hardly played any salsa music.  The band probably played salsa a half of the time (at most), in between cumbia, merengue, and some Caribbean sounding music that almost had us doing a conga line around the dance floor.  And when the band wasn’t playing, the DJ played mostly hip hop, house and reggaeton.

But it was when I saw someone purposely throw a dirty, wet cup on the dance floor that I just completely gave up on the place.  No true salsero would have disrespected the floor like that.  It may have all been a little easier to tolerate if I had had a couple drinks myself, but the drinks were so outrageously over-priced that I couldn’t even do that.

So in case you haven’t gotten the message yet… here it is.  Thumbs down, way down, for the Conga Room.

Sunday night I went to a new venue called Hacienda in the Hacienda Hotel near LAX.  I actually had a decent time at Hacienda, although I’m not sure they have fully taken my business away from my former Sunday night favorite, Steven’s Steakhouse.

The good points about Hacienda are that the entrance is free (although Steven’s is only $5) and that it is close to the airport so, if you’re not a local, you can get a room in the hotel and then take a free shuttle to the airport to catch that early Monday morning flight home.  It is also very large with 3 dance floors and so even though it was packed, there was still plenty of room to dance.

Another thing I liked about Hacienda is that, unlike Sundays at Steven’s, you can find quite a few On 2 dancers, which is my preferred style of dancing.  As LA Style is strictly On 1, it is often hard to find On 2 dancers when I go there and that is sometimes a struggle.  I have tried to be as versatile as possible so as to increase my potential dance partners wherever I go, but the truth is I am an On 2 dancer at heart.

Only problem was, while I got in many good On 2 dances, quite a few of the dances at Hacienda were some combination of On 1, On 2 and On 5.  When it comes down to it, I don’t really care which style the lead chooses.  The only thing that I ask is that he chooses one and sticks with it.  It is so incredibly hard to follow when the timing is constantly changing, especially when the lead let’s you go to do shines and you have no idea on which beat he will pick you back up.

One guy at Hacienda had the nerve to start counting at me.  This is a personal pet peeve as I believe my timing is one of my strongest skills.  In fact, I have been known to walk off the dance floor immediately if I get counted at.  The worst is when the guy shouts “bah!” to mark the beat, and it is so often him that is off time.

But this time I decided to give the guy a chance.  I realized that perhaps we weren’t in sync because we were dancing on different timing.  So I stopped and asked him if he’d like to dance On 1 or On 2.  He responded, “What is that?”  Ok, things were getting clearer.  So I said, “Well, show me your basic.”  And he rocked back on the right and then on the left and said, “Cumbia!”  I politely let him know that I was having a hard time following him, perhaps due to my own limited skills, thanked him for the dance, and that was it.

But overall, I’d say Hacienda is definitely worth checking out.

So lately I’ve been wondering, is it possible that my salsa addiction is getting stronger?  I thought when I was dancing 5 to 7 nights a week that I had reached a peak and the only direction I could go in was burn-out.  But day by day I watch my 2009 schedule getting more and more packed. 

Remember, my goal was one event per month… but here’s what I have planned so far:

May 21 - 24: Los Angeles Salsa Congress – CONFIRMED!

June 5 - 7: Paris Mambo Festival – not confirmed

June 26 - 27: Euroson Latino Puebla – not confirmed

July 2 - 5: Orlando Salsa Congress – CONFIRMED!

July 16 - 19: San Francisco Bachata International Festival – CONFIRMED!

July 23 - 26: Palm Springs Salsa Mambo Festival – not confirmed

August 6 - 9: Montreal Summer Salsa Festival – CONFIRMED!

September 2 - 9: New York Salsa Congress – not confirmed

October 22 – 25: Capitol City Salsa Festival (Austin, Texas) – not confirmed

October 30 – November 1:  Philadelphia SalsaFest – CONFIRMED!

November 5 -8: Acapulco Salsa Congress – not confirmed

November 19 - 22: San Francisco Salsa Congress – not confirmed

November 27 - 29: Seattle Salsa Congress – not confirmed

December: World Salsa Championships??? – not confirmed

Remember – YOU CAN INVITE ME TO YOUR EVENT!!!  For more information, write to me at SecretSalsera@gmail.com! 

This year they invited many well-known instructors/performers including Victor and Gaby all the way from Mexico, Junior and Emily from San Francisco/San Diego, and Abel and Zulmara from Los Angeles.  They also invited many representatives of the San Francisco Bay Area including Salsamania, Rica Salsa, Kike and Ellie, and Rodchata (our local Bachata king) as well as DJs El de la Clava and Chino.

But despite all this, the salsa part of the event is still very small.  When it came to social dancing, you got one dance with each of the masters (if you were lucky) and then very few other dances because very few other salseros stayed past the workshops and performances. 

And when it came to partying, you got the ‘small-town syndrome’… you know, like when you have a bunch of kids growing up in a small town and there is nothing fun to do so they create a whole lot of drama to entertain themselves.  There was sexual harassment, domestic conflict and people talking about each other left and right. 

Yeah, I guess you could say some of it was entertaining.

Overall, I’d say the event has potential… but it needs a lot of work.  You’ll get all the details soon in my next episode!!!

But wait, there’s more.  The very next weekend I was off to Atlanta, Georgia for Flava Invasion.  Flava Invasion is a salsa ‘event’… not a congress, not a festival… but an event.  It has a similar structure to a congress, with workshops during the day, performances at night, open dancing in the evening (to DJs, no band), and then after-parties.

This event was… INCREDIBLE! 

It was my first time dancing on the east coast and I was thrilled to be in the presence of salsa icons that I had only read about on the internet or watched on YouTube videos.  The event was organized by Gordon Neil and The Revolu Experience.  Performers/instructors included Juan Matos, Magna Gopal, Leon Rose, Sekou Miller, Joel and Ana Masacote, Ana Llorente, Julissa Cruz, Joby Brava, Burju Hurturk, and Tito and Tamara.

The performances were creative and inspirational.  There was hip hop, African dancing and drumming, Afro-cuban, and of course salsa.  The quality of social dancing was unbelievable so I danced most of the night.  And then there were the after-parties… but you’ll have to read the upcoming episode to know how those went… and you will NOT want to miss this!!! 

So next stop: the Los Angeles Salsa Congress from May 21^st to May 24^th.  Here’s what we have to look forward to:

Band Line-Up:

THURSDAY - The Echo Park Project

FRIDAY - Remembering the Palladium - Gilberto Santa Rosa, Jose Albert "El Canario" & Choco Orta. Doing a Tribute to Tito Puentes, Tito Rodiriguez, Machito, La Lupe & Graciela.

–>FRIDAY NIGHT ONLY: Due To Gilberto's Special Engagement, shows will be at 6pm, concert from 8pm-10pm (Gilberto / El Canario / Choco Orta) and DJ until 4am.

SATURDAY - Son Boricua Feat. Jimmy Sabater & Jose Mangual Jr.

SUNDAY - Johnny Polanco y su Conjunto Amistad

Salsa Workshops from world renowned salsa dancers including:

EDDIE TORRES!!!, Angel & Tulane Rivera, Ava Apple, Billy & Katie, Callejeros, Gupson Pierre, Hacha y Machete, Junior & Emily, Maykel Fonts, Omar Perrones, Ricardo & Michelle, Rogelio Moreno, Tito & Tamara, Victor & Gaby, Young Blood, Ye Mambo, Constelacon Latina, Cristian & Liz, Dave & Zoe, Magic Mambo, Majesty in Motion, PB&G, Rica Salsa Trio, Salsabor y Cache, Salsamania, Tropical Image, Yamulee, Salsera Dance Co., Marco Ferrigno, Coabey Dancers, Imagen Latina, Salseras with Attitude, and Symbolics Mambo.

There will be a FIRST TIME VIP PRIVATE PARTY for Albert Torres’ Facebook & MySpace friends on Thursday, May 21 from 5pm – 7pm at the Radisson Hotel which will include and open bar and appetizers!!!  Also, DJ music, one on one conversations with international dancers, guests, and musicians, photo opportunities, and a free raffle for DVD’s, CD’s, and a chance to win full event passes to other Albert Torres Productions associated congresses!!!

I’ll see you there!!! And if I do… you may be seeing yourself here!!!

March: The Arizona Salsa Congress 2009

My March event was the Arizona Salsa Congress in Scottsdale, Arizona, organized by the Rumba Azteca Dance Company.  This congress experience was somewhat different from my previous experiences for a couple reasons.  First of all, I was attending just one night of the event.  Arizona Salsa Congress is Friday and Saturday only, and I’d be missing Friday night in order to attend a work-related event in the Bay Area on Saturday morning.

Second of all, I went to this congress with a friend.  If you’ve read my other episodes, you may have noticed that I usually attend congresses alone.  Truth is, it is not only congresses, but most salsa activities, that I like to attend alone.  In fact, since I started dancing I have practically made this a rule and I rarely break that rule. 

At first I went out alone partly because I felt more comfortable not seeing familiar faces while I stumbled through the classes.  But I quickly realized that I enjoyed the freedom of starting and ending the night whenever I chose and not on someone else’s schedule.  I also noticed that, since I arrived alone, I didn’t feel particularly connected to any one person or group and so I ended up talking to and meeting a lot more people. 

And having a “rule” made it easier to evade all those undesirable invitations for dinner and then dancing (realizing that if a guy takes me to dinner before the club, I’m going to owe him some sort of special attention at the club no matter how much he insists it isn’t so).

But the reality is that it doesn’t take very long in The Salsa Scene before you enter a club and know most of the people in it… so you are never truly alone. 

In fact, I get asked all the time, “who are you here with?” and I don’t really know what to say.  I mean, technically I arrived by myself but responding “no one” seems a bit inaccurate.  Instead, I usually look around the room and jokingly respond, “well… everyone?!  Aren’t you?” 

So, as I was saying, this congress was different because I was not arriving alone.  This time I was going to congress with one of my best salsa girlfriends, “Sophia.”  I decided to make an exception for this event because this particular girlfriend is a ton of fun; the perfect party-mate.  She can definitely out-drink me, and sometimes even out-last me no matter how late the party goes. 

The only problem with this girlfriend is that she is a Charlotte.  If you recall from Sex and the City, or even one of my earlier episodes, a Charlotte is a woman who is, unlike me, relationship-oriented and this particular Charlotte just happened to have recently found herself in a new relationship. 

The only reason she was going to Arizona Congress is because coincidentally she was going to be in Phoenix celebrating an occasion with her family that very same weekend.  Being that the relationship was new, the boyfriend was not ready to meet the fam and so he stayed home.  

I realized the relationship would place some restrictions on her fun.  Having a relationship in salsa is a tricky endeavor.  Salsa is an inherently sexy dance that is primarily danced in pairs.  Those pairs are usually made up of two people who have the potential of being attracted to one another.  In other words, among straight people: a male and a female, and among gay people: a male and a male or a female and a female.  That is not to say that the two people in the pair are always attracted to one another… but the potential is there.

What I have always loved about salsa was the way it allows two people to share an extremely intense intimate moment and then say thank you and walk away, with no pressure to take it any farther.  And what I have loved even more was that it is not only possible, but expected, that that experience will occur multiple times in a single night with multiple people… and since everyone is doing it, no one is judging.

But when someone gets into a relationship, the boundaries become blurry. 

It is an unspoken rule in salsa that a dancer must dance with multiple partners each time they go out.  Dancing with only one partner will quickly get boring and will also limit the development of a dancer’s skills.

So how are you supposed to feel when you look across the dance floor and see your new beau having one of those intense intimate moments that are simply the nature of the dance with some other salsera?  I guess kinda’ like he’s supposed to feel when he sees you doing the same. 

Some couples can work it out.  They develop an understanding that when he wraps his dance partner in his big strong arms while looking deeply in her eyes on the dance floor it is somehow different than when he does this with his girlfriend in the bed.

And I suppose, sometimes they learn to just look the other way.  They must, because it is not uncommon for one of those unfaithful moments on the dance floor to lead to an unfaithful moment off the dance floor.  Could they all possibly be so naïve?

When it comes down to it, relationships and salsa are not for the jealous… nor for those who expect fidelity.

But my friend Sophia is special.  She does, in fact, expect fidelity and obviously, if you expect it, you must also offer it.  So, consequently, her congress fun was to be restricted… and therefore mine would be, as well.

I arrived at the Phoenix airport at 9:00pm, quickly slipped into something sexy in the airport bathroom, and ran out to meet Sophia who was waiting at curbside.  We headed over to the event with a quick stop at a hotel just down the street to pick up a friend. 

Our friend was staying at the hotel down the street because the hotel where the event was being held, the Hilton Scottsdale Resort, was too expensive.  Choosing an expensive hotel for a congress venue is not a good move in my opinion as sharing a hotel with hundreds of dancers is one of the highlights of being at congress.  Unfortunately, at Arizona Congress the attendees were spread out in at least 3 different hotels.

As soon as we arrived at our friend’s place, we busted out a bottle of tequila.  During the day I had received a couple texts from congress friends who were already at the event and no one sounded too excited, so we took it upon ourselves to bring the fun.  All it took was good company and a couple shots of tequila and we were ready to party!

Sophia had told me that her plan was to drink at the beginning of the night and then stop early so that she’d be able to drive us back to her family’s house where we were spending the night.  There was my first restriction as I realized this plan would likely cut the after-parties short.  But I went along with it and decided I should probably do the same so she doesn’t feel like the chauffer of a drunken slob later on. 

Usually at a congress I drink lightly during the performances so that by the time we start dancing I have a nice little buzz but am not falling on my face.  Then the real drinking (the kind that makes you fall on your face) starts at the after-parties.  But, because of Sophia plan, this time the heavy drinking took place during the performances.  It didn’t seem to affect her, but personally I was a mess. 

In my drunken state I had a difficult time attending to the show.  A few routines, however, did catch my attention such as those of World Champions Abel Pena and Zulmara Torres and Junior and Emily Alabi.  I also enjoyed the routine by Christian Oviedo and Liz Lira, the recent winners of LA’s Stevens Steakhouse Professional Competition. 

A few other personal favorites were LA’s Magic Mambo, Seattle’s Bravo brothers (Rico and Johnny), and LA’s David Nieto with his amateur dance partner.  Apparently my love for these personal favorites was more entertaining than the shows themselves, at least to those audience members who turned around to watch me scream my head off.  What can I say, they were hot… oh, and I was wasted.

Even with all my drinking and dancing experience, by the time the performances ended I had crossed that line where it was simply too hard to dance.  But some of my congress friends who I don’t get to see very often pulled me on the dance floor before I could say no and I had no choice but to go along with it.  Honestly, it was embarrassing, but eventually all the dancing helped me to sober up and I ended up having a good time.

Sophia, on the other hand, was bored because according to her, no one was asking her to dance, no one good at least… and with her traditional values she expects to be asked.  I asked one of my friends why he hadn’t danced with her and he said, “I would have… but I saw her turn down a few people.”  Be careful ladies, the leaders are paying attention!

I can’t remember what time the social dancing ended since I was just loopy by then, but I remember that we were there as they were taking apart the floor.  We ran around and took a few pictures of old and new friends and then, Sophia, who was such a trooper, agreed to at least check out the options for an after-party.

And there were a few decent options in my opinion, but the trooper had given it all she’d got and just wasn’t feeling it anymore.  Not only was she sober but she was also being very mindful of her behavior… and what’s the point of an after-party if one’s gonna’ be mindful of one’s behavior!  So being the good friend that I am, I agreed to take off with her. 

To be honest, as I stood there outside her car, wrapped in a passionate embrace with two of the salseros that I had just barely met… I knew that my friend’s disappointing decision to bail out was likely going to save me from all kinds of trouble.  And so I said goodbye to my new friends… or at least, until next time.

Next stop: Reno Dance Sensation from April 16^th until April 20^th.  Will you be there?  Or more importantly, will you be here?  Hoping to see you in ‘The Scene’ and behind the scenes, making the stories that bring people to say, “what happens at congress, stays at congress.”  Viva la salsa!