The Spinning Sensation

I like to be spun around in circles.  As incredibly, phenomenally simplistic as that may sound it is very true.  Of course I prefer that the spinning be done by a tall and very handsome man who thinks the sun rises out of my golden, flowing locks, but in general anyone will do.  I realized my love for spinning and being spun while serving in the Peace Corps in Ukraine.  Before I digress into tales of lands far away and things done long ago, I will state that it is a crying, screaming, sobbing shame that American men of my generation do not dance.  Obviously, there are exceptions to this rule, but besides the uncomfortable, cheesy, parent forced, florescent lit cotillion I attended for a few evenings in the 7^th grade or the drunken spasms of rhythm that passed for dancing in high school and college, I have never seen much dancing from people my own age in this country.

It is so unfortunate that we do not dance in this country, or should I clarify that we do not dance as partners reacting to the music, because we are missing out on a great social opportunity.  We are missing a fun reason to go out on a Saturday night; we are missing a cultural dating ritual; (and, I think the argument that may be most compelling) we are missing a chance to be close to a person that we desire to be close to.  While many of my dance partners over the years have not been people that I desired, moving to the music in time with someone else, feeling the rhythm in your own body and forgetting about everything else in the room around you are truly joyous and freeing feelings. 

In Ukraine, dancing is still part of the dating ritual.  Young people go to discos (yes I said “disco,” Eastern Europe is still very far behind in many respects).  The men ask the women to dance, lead them out on to the floor for everyone in town to see and do a variation on the waltz to saccharine Russian pop songs.  This waltz is not much more than a simple box step with a few turns, spins and the occasional dip.  One of the things that made my time in Ukraine so formative was the fact that, between the language and culture barrier, I never knew what was coming next.  Dancing the waltz with a tall and very handsome man with blonde hair of his own and captivating ice blue eyes is the easiest and most glorious metaphor for my experience that I could ever write.  I may have stepped on his white, woven shoes many times and taken many steps out of rhythm with both he and the music but when he spun me around again and again and again and again and again and again and again, as long as I pulled my in my core, shored it up against the structure of myself, he could never knock me over. 

The ability to spin, be spun, and never fall, along with the skill to follow the music and the person leading me is a lesson I love to repeat and take with me wherever I go.  It is not that I have become a particularly good dancer but that I can follow a lead.  I could say I am a good follower, but that statement doesn’t please me.  What I have become is responsive, a good reactor to the actions of others and the conditions around me.  While I don’t waltz much anymore, one place where I can spin and be free is salsa dancing.  I think perhaps we, in certain parts of America, are saved from a life with no dancing, rhythm or closeness by Salsa which has dug its spiked heel deep into many parts of the United States.  I have come to really like salsa dancing because of the significant amount of spinning that occurs during this activity and the wonderful friend who introduced me to it. 

I may save my adventures in salsa for another time.  I assure you there will be more dancing and more spinning as several of my friends have recently taken an interest in dancing and we have discovered the free Salsa lessons at Lima here in DC.  And the thing is that I know I will continue to come back for more.  The movement of salsa seems to have wormed its way into me and after I leave a salsa club my legs still move back and forth and turn, my hips still swivel, like a sailor who can still feel the movement of the sea when he steps on land.  And as for the spinning, well I don’t think I will ever want to stop testing and thrilling myself, moving and being moved in that way.