Nobody puts baby in the corner

Salsa dancing has gained considerable popularity recently in Accra. Hotels in conjunction with radio stations are sponsoring salsa nights each week. Last Wednesday evening when I was attempting to get internet access at the hostel, a NAFTI student named Romeo invited me to join him and a few of his friends. I was so tired and hot from the day that I really debated whether to go, but figured that this might be my last chance to see what salsa dancing is like in this country. We left at about 7:15 and I was reassured that we would be back by 10:00 since everyone else was tired as well. I should have known better, but was optimistic that I would still get a good night sleep. Ten of us piled into two taxis, four across the back, and headed off. The girls were all decked out and looked so cute with their heels and trendy dresses. I had put on a fresh pair of khakis and my black flip-flops for the occasion, so I felt a little lacking in the fashion department.

We arrived at the hotel which was a two to three story brick building that surrounded a pool. Already, there had to be about 200 people dancing around the pool. I followed Romeo to the beginners section, somehow he must have guessed. They were just finishing up the lessons when Romeo turned to me and said, “Feel free to mingle” and took off. I am not much of a mingler especially in a situation where I don’t know anyone or their dance. I thought I would walk around a bit to check out the hotel and the pool area. I felt a bit like Baby carrying watermelons to the party. Fortunately, a lot of people were watching the dancers, so I didn’t feel too awkward sitting down and observing.

They announced that a salsa dance contest would be taking place that evening and were encouraging couples to sign up. There were definitely five or six couples dancing away from the group that really stood out. One man was able to dip his partner down low enough, hold onto her back and flip one leg and then the other over her. Another couple was able to do lifts and flips. It was sort of like watching a free dance show. I expected them all to compete in the contest since they were so comfortable standing out from the rest of the crowd. One other thing that was striking aside from the dancers’ talent was the amount of sweat being produced by everyone. It was HOT out that night and there was lightning in the distance. Wet shirts and dresses didn’t stop anyone from getting close or continuing to show off their skills. I was sweating just sitting there, so I couldn’t imagine what it was like for the people moving around.

Another portion of the night reaffirmed why it was best for me to watch while the others danced. In addition to salsa dancing, the group did “line-ups.” The group did do the Macarena later in the night, but this was by far the simplest of the line dances. I thought that perhaps I could attempt this, but the dances were so complex that I had difficulty identifying the dance pattern. Also, the steps weren’t just about putting your right foot in and your right foot out. There were twists and jumps that were done in conjunction with specific hand movements. Several of the dances recalled the moves highlighted in Dirty Dancing as well, just done in a line instead of with a partner. They really like pelvic thrusts and are not hesitant to use this move often. All in all though, two hundred people all looked amazing in unison and the music was really fun. They even had a line dance to Shakira’s My Hips Don’t Lie.

At 9:45 I noticed that the contest had not started yet and when someone announced that the salsa dancing was going to “go all night” I started plotting my plan of escape. I did one more loop around and saw a few other white people that I thought were unlikely to be Americans. Finally, the dance contest started, so I headed back to my appointed place. Only 4 couples signed up and only 2 were still willing and available to compete. They said they wouldn’t continue the contest if no one else signed up, so they called and again and again for another couple. A brave little man walked over with his ballerina-shaped obruni dance partner. They were quite the couple since she had at least 6 inches on him. As they started dancing though, the duo clearly connected well in salsa. Her long white limbs swung around and around, especially when the little man flipped her. In the end though, they came in third out of three. The judges actually couldn’t decide between the other two couples, so they had the audience pick by a show of applause. I was hoping for a dance off, but instead I got more line dancing from the group.

After the dance contest and well past 10, a NAFTI student recognized me and pulled me over to where all of the other students were dancing. I had no choice but to stand a dance a bit. Some poor but generous soul grabbed me to dance with him. The flip-flops did not help, but they really can’t be blamed completely for my difficulty with the salsa moves. Dancing is such a significant part of the culture, that I am not sure if he had ever been confronted with someone who struggled so much with stepping forward and stepping back to a beat. He would pause so I could catch up and we would begin again. I don’t think we made it to the end of the song when he wished me “good luck.” I saw Eunice, one of the girls I sang in the choir with, attempting to learn one of the line dancers. We chatted for a bit and danced a little. Around 11:30, the group was ready to leave and we headed to the taxis. Although I didn’t do a lot of dancing, being an observer of phenomenal dancing and listening to great music in a breezy courtyard was a really nice experience. It certainly beat an evening of Soduko puzzles and War and Peace.