With two kids that hardly stack up to the kitchen counter, its not often that Matt and Di get to go out together. When I showed up, I presented the opportunity for a few extra date nights without having to break bank on a babysitter (but they do bring me leftovers!) Last Friday however I was let out of the house.
Carolina is Duncan’s teacher and is wonderful. She also is going to watch the kids tonight while the adults go out. We are meeting a Canadian couple, Cheryl and Richard, who moved to Cuenca about nine months ago with their 20 year-old son, Denton.
There is a hostel called La Cigale that serves great food and becomes a fun bar at night. It’s a hot spot for both travelers and Cuencanos so it is a good place to see all sorts of people.
Matt, Di and I arrived around 7:30. La Cigale is a popular place for dinner so we found Richard and Cheryl waiting at a two top because there were no other tables available. We pulled a couple chairs over and made do until another, larger one, opened up. Two friends from school showed up, Jordana and Anne Marie (Americans), as we were finishing dinner.
The girls hadn’t met anyone but they are social and had no problem fitting in. One of Richard and Cheryl’s friends showed up, Fabiola. We got to talking. She is Cuencano and speaks both English and Spanish so it was a nice opportunity to speak Spanish. She works at a school and there may be an opportunity for tutoring English opening up. We’ll work out the details later because tonight is about having fun.
Fabiola left with a friend and Richard and I got to talk. From professional football, to running companies, to writing a book, Richard was at the very least entertaining, but we spoke and joked about many things.
In the middle of an interesting conversation, stumbled in Charlie. Charlie moved here two years ago and hasn’t stopped talking since. He is a nice guy and means well but the conversation is like quicksand. It’s easy to fall into and then you need real help getting out. I wasn’t going to let Charlie kill my buzz any longer (Richard told him to “shut the fuck up” earlier and it worked but I didn’t have the balls nor the social standing at 22) so I poured half a vodka limón down my throat and headed for the bar. This is actually called Play 2. Play 1 is going to the bathroom. Play 3 is going outside for a smoke. Though Play 3 is risky if you don’t know whether or not the person smokes, cause when it backfires, it really backfires.
Play 3 isn’t just for smokers. If you don’t smoke, it presents a wonderful opportunity to take five minutes to see what’s going on at the bars around you and get some fresh air. Obviously if Play 3 is a pump-fake then you have to know the person doesn’t smoke. Bold but works.
As La Cigale starts to close we find out where we can find some music. We’re in Ecuador after all – Let’s Salsa! We find out about a place with good music and it turns out that’s where the bartenders are going (always a good sign). We all have had a few at this point. Dancing seemed like a great idea. Not impossible, but its hard to drink and dance at the same time so not only is it fun, good for you, and makes first contact with girls less awkward – it saves your head in the morning.
So we get to this bar, Verde De something or other. There is a cover but we hear the music is very good so we head on in. Jordana had to leave but Anne Marie decided to stick around so I had a dance partner.
The bar had a big dance floor in the middle. The stage was to the left where a five-piece salsa band was in the middle of their groove. The bar was in the back but we headed upstairs where the 2nd floor wrapped around the dance floor. Great for people watching. There was no one up there so we set up camp and ordered drinks. We decided not to wait and hit the dance floor. I have taken one salsa lesson so Enrique Iglesias better watch out.
Teddy’s Salsa strategy:
Hips go east and west while feet go north and south and move your hands like you’re shaking macarenas. Smile and bob your head a little bit. Sounds sexy.
The first time around Anne Marie didn’t know any different. She’s from Kansas (not where Salsa dancing was invented). After a few songs we head back up to our drinks. From there I was given a small clue that I didn’t know what I was doing.
In the States, supposedly women equate dancing to sex. Partly because it creates male-female contact, usually after a few drinks, and also because my generation more often than not actually assumes a sexual position on the dance floor.
American women can say what they want about it, but they haven’t seen sexy dancing unless they have been to Latin America. These people were killing it. The music was great. It looked like everyone in the room was going to go home and have the most amazing sex ever. Probably to salsa music. I felt bad for white people everywhere.
Convinced (Thanks Vodka!) my strategy above would get me to look just like that, I was ready to go when Di asked me to dance. I was doing great until I actually started to dance. I don’t think the first verse was over before I had stepped on a toe, hit someone’s head and set dancing back a generation. Bless Di’s heart, she wasn’t too embarrassed to take me back upstairs to give me a lesson.
We worked on it for a bit but then Di had had enough of my incompetence on the dance floor, she grabbed Matt for some real dancing. These two really could dance together. I remember thinking, nine years ago from yesterday, when they shared their first dance together as a married couple (Happy Anniversary!!!) that they could dance then and they had only gotten better.
So with an hour of failed salsa lessons and six hours of drinking, Richard sold me that going down to ask a cute Cuencano girl to dance was a good idea. I ran down those stairs. I was General Custer I was so confident. I only had to figure out what to do after she said yes.
Fortunately I didn’t have to worry about that. Unfortunately it was because she shot me down. She said she had a boyfriend (later proven). I felt like such an idiot cause I couldn’t say, “have a nice night” in drunken Spanish. Next week in Spanish class – learn how to flirt.
I came back with my head held high though and to a crowd of proud gringos. After all, even had I gone all Rico Suave on her, she still had a boyfriend. The lights went on shortly there after and we filed out of the bar and into a cab. Despite a few failed attempts at fitting into the social scene, I had a lot of fun (I’ve got the bill to prove it).
Matt, Di and I are looking into some dance lessons. The next morning was a little rough but we slept in and had nowhere to be. Getting to know Cheryl and Richard was fun. They know a place to play pick up basketball where I’ll head this week. Dancing was a complete fail so until I get some professional help on the dance floor I think I’ll keep the salsa on my chips.
No comments:
Post a Comment