Having told you about
my first love, and the dancing, I have received questions that I am compelled
to answer regarding how my neighbor and I danced, what we danced to and how we
danced to it. I will tell how why I danced for four years and a couple of
months and why I don’t dance any more as you have been unable to ask me this
directly. Many of you have probably heard of the waltz. This is ball room
romantic dance for couples. The steps are articulated in great sequence, the
music is arranged delicately and the ballroom gown is every so fascinating. Big
and round, but not heavy, the cosset at the mid section around the waist ever
so feminine, tight but not uncomfortable, the layers of lacing and satin, a
fragile work of art. The colour chosen to blend with the wearer’s skin tone. How
I loved to dance to the waltz….
Before September 2008,
I was not much of a dancer; I was the one person my girl friends would count on
to watch their tiny purses when we went out in the evening. Dancing had never
been a thing for me; I enjoyed to watch people dance but did not care much for
it. I always did a few dignified steps whenever I was forced to. For instance
when a gentle man grabbed me as I would be making my way across the dance floor
to the “ladies”. Those of you who have been to Cats Club at the Safari Park
Hotel and Casino know very well what I am trying to say. Other times when my
very few, counted and practiced steps came in handy were, when I attended close
friend’s weddings and when I was a guest at fundraisers and other traditional
ceremonies in my village.
The waltz however, came
naturally for me. When he put his arm around me, pressed me to his breast,
cavorted with me in the shameless, decent whirling-dance of the Germans, we had
engaged in a familiarity that broke all the boundaries that I created. My
silent lack of interest in dance turned into the burning desire to waltz
forever. I am yet to decide whether it was the dance or my partner at the dance
that made the dance so easy and so passionate for me, maybe my partner had
other intentions, and well he won whatever his intentions were.
The waltz is a sliding
and or gliding dance. It dates back to the 16th century and is said to have
originated from Austria. The dancers hold each other so closely that their
faces touch. It follows an instinctive knowledge of the weight of fall, utilizes
surplus energy to press all of one’s strength into the proper beat of the
measure, thus intensifying the personal enjoyment in dancing. It is a dance for
couples who are very comfortable with each other. The waltz allows people to
dance mad, but, also allows the women to be celebrated because of their
movements and grace of which they never tire. I was one such woman.
That night he a wearing
black suit, a well pressed white shirt and a black bow tie to finish of his
attire. His shoes had been well polished and I could see my reflection on them.
I wore a purple ball room gown which he had picked out for me. I had silver
shoes to match. The length of the heel a little off the ground but comfortable
enough for me to dance. My hair had been freshly done and I wore it up in a
tight bow at the back of my head. It was pinned up to precision to ensure not a
single strand would leave it rightful place. I was smart, I felt smart, similar
to food served on a platter and garnished to seduce the masters test buds.
I was anxious, I had
been to ball rooms before but this particular one, I was going be the center of
attention. My neighbor had been invited to grace an event that had the ballroom
theme. He was going to be the chief guest at a highly sophisticated even and
had chosen me to be his date. We were still very young in our knowledge of each
other. In fact, when he had first asked me to this even, I had given him a
straight no for an answer. Well, let us just say, I went to the dance.
I will be totally
honest with you, I had practiced a few ballroom dance steps because the neighbor
had been kind enough to let me know way in advance that we would open the dance
floor given that he was the chief guest. I bought a tutorial CD and would practice
my dancing with my friends in my house as we laughed at ourselves. My friends
kept wondering why I had gone through all that trouble for a man I barely knew.
They would wink at me every time we would meet on the stairs, they would call
his name in a manner to tease me. I would deny having any feelings for him, the
truth said in whispers, was that I had fallen head over heels and was just now
going with the flow.
That night, when it was
time to open the dance floor, I stood with all the grace within me, I was asked
to choose a song that would open the dance to honor me. I will not tell which
one because I still listen to that song, repeatedly but I would not want to be
teased about it. I think it is actually the only classical music CD that I own.
He held me close to his heart, his grip so firm but not uncomfortable, his
breath fresh, his cologne was masculine but not choking .I stood there, right
in front of him, his one arm around my waist and me the same and the other held
out, not too high though, his lips were close to mine as he was looking right
into my face. He was taller than I am, and his height was just perfect as we
had chosen the right heel to cover for the difference, allowing him to be about
three to four inches taller than me.
The pianist pressed a
key with a deep tone, an indication that the music would begin immediately. In
that position, ever so close, he leaned forward and told me to remind his to
stop. I nodded in response, still looking for the right words that seemed to have
escaped me. In no time, we were gliding and dancing ourselves crazy on the
dance floor, the rest of the guests stood around us at a safe distance, giving
us room to delve into the more intricate areas of waltzing. This involved
turning lifting and much more as I had done my practice really well. After
about 10minutes, still dancing as the center of attraction I looked at him and
gave him the cue to stop. We continued dancing for a few seconds before we
stopped with him raising his hand for the music to stop. There was a loud round
of applause and a lot of bowing. This was followed by him inviting everyone
else to the dance floor and thanking me for allowing him to have the first
dance with me.
After that night, we
would waltz even in the house. It was common to find us waltzing I the
supermarket. We loved to shop late in the night and this would allow us to have
the time to waltz and to shop at the same time. This waltzing came as a package
with him referring to me as “my lady” and me referring to him as “my lord” as
we asked each other for a dance. Many times, we would dress up for the dance
even at home. Many of our friends actually learnt the dance from us as it was
the best entertainment we ever provided whenever we were hosting.
I have extensively dealt
with how I danced, why I danced was simple. It was because I had learnt that
dancing was a unique way of expressing one self. It would express joy, love, romance,
it could be used to seduce and most importantly express anger without making
faces or raising one’s voice. From my dancing, he could tell I was unhappy and
me the same. It was an art so fashionable and so loud to be ignored.
I will in another posting, tell you about the second person I fell with.I refer to him as my confused childhood friend.....yo will certainly understand why very soon
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