When the Holy (Salsa) Spirit Leaves You… And Returns
Bianca and Nova have been in a bit of a salsa rut this past month. Not so much in sucking, but low in the spirit that beckons you to the dance floor and takes over your body with a partner. Which reminds me of Star Trek, The Next Generation Episode 166 when Doctor Crusher was regularly visited by an alien ghost that entered her body, and well, did delightful things to her from the inside out. But I digress slightly off topic.
The Holy Salsa Spirit had left us and I was prepared to lodge a complaint in the lost and found department of salsa dancing or go to a salsa church, consult the salsa priest, or perhaps consider giving up some of it (to an addict that means trimming down from three classes to one, plus going out once a week instead of maybe three), and whine here on this blog.
BUT THE HOLY SALSA SPIRIT HATH RETURNED.
Nova experienced one of those moments-and you know those moments-when you realize you are inhabiting what will become a fond memory, when you are realizing some sort of dream… You barely inhabit the now, time becomes all fuzzy- you become some sort of witness to yourself in a certain place and you sort of become one with it. Sounds all funny but this is what happened dancing street salsa with an old-timer PR in the pouring rain, drenched with a live band playing in el barrio. I just had my pasteles fix from a toothless old man selling them out of a water cooler that was sitting inside a “borrowed” supermarket shopping cart, and was pretty content with that until the rain came down and I was dancing.
It just was one of those moments that make you want to cry because life seems, well alive. In that moment you are filled with some type of timeless euphoria.
No, I assure you it was just pasteles I bought from the water cooler. But enough of this for now. I have to save something for a chapter.
