A light touch

I’ve always wanted to learn traditional dance as opposed to the drunken shaking around on a Saturday night accompanied by ear-splitting music. Every Wednesday evening in the local village, a group of us meet and attempt to be taught by our, I must say, VERY patient tutor. We are trying out Tango, Waltz, Foxtrot and a local speciality – Liscio. In the films, it all looks so graceful – ahem, slightly different from how we prance around with forced grins on our faces. The first evening I went along, my dance partner didn’t have a clue. His robotic movements did little to help me learn the new steps “She’s not a car!” barked our tutor .”….so don’t drive her!”. My partner changed gear, sweat pouring profusely from his forehead. “Have you got haemorrhoids?” shouted the tutor at another hapless victim “….so why are your legs so far apart?!” And so it is, with these gentle words of encouragement that we stumble through these classic dance steps in the hope of one day impressing our future audience. Talking of our tutor…I’m not entirely convinced that squeezing of arms and tight squashing against bodies is REALLY an essential element of say the Tango and yet I get squeezed and pressed against every week by our overly “keen” instructor. “Give me your body…” he whispers in my ear. Somehow, I don’t think he is referring to the need to dance close against your partner. Sigh, Italian men….