WebRanger

I feel a little stupid boring the world with the story of my love affair with Latin music and dance. But you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to know something about me, right? Knowing a little about me will help put this website in perspective. So here goes.

West Dakota

My story begins in the 1960’s in a small town in West Dakota, far removed from anything Latin aside from entertainment via TV, radio and record albums. Like many people, I enjoyed popular Latin music, especially Herb Alpert and his Tijuana Brass. I’m still a huge Herb Alpert fan. Yes, I used to watch Lucille Ball and her Cuban husband, Desi Arnaz, too.

I studied Spanish in high school. Unfortunately, I can’t remember meeting more than one native Spanish speaking person - a transient - until I left home.

Discovering Dance

By my late teens, I was listening to Jose Feliciano, but I knew virtually nothing about Latin dance music and had no experience social dancing. While attending college in Bellingham, Washington, I discovered dance and fell in love with it. I took ballet, jazz and modern dance classes and even took an early hip hop class.

I lived just a block away from the home of Teo Morca, one of America’s greatest flamenco instructors. Sadly, I never took any flamenco classes from him and his wife, Isabelle, just jazz and ballet. But I was definitely inspired by the man and his performances.

Another college discovery was a magnificent song by Chuck Mangione, “Children of Sanchez.” I think it can be classified as Latin jazz. Anyway, it was one of the most inspirational songs I’ve ever heard. I remember one of my teachers saying it almost moved him to tears.

I might also mention Sukay, a group that performed Andean music. I don’t think the group was from Bellingham, but they performed there, and I loved their music.

After moving to Seattle in the mid-1980’s, I got more involved in dance for a few years. Though a wonderful experience, dance was enormously frustrating for me. As an adult beginner, one’s body simply can’t do what you want it to. In addition, I spent much of my time in the Alaskan wilderness, where I worked summers as a wildlife biologist. I also traveled a lot, so it was hard to focus on dance.

After becoming an economic casualty, I dropped out of dance. When not teaching school, I played soccer and worked on my websites.

Politics

In the mid-1990’s, I became politically active. My new awareness of the “real world” was a little shocking. I discovered that Seattle was a corporate shithole and that corporate interests were in the process of privatizing our public schools. I witnessed and experienced some very scary and depressing things, things that turned my life upside down.

I decided to fight back. Running for public office was an educational experience. Among other things, I learned what I had learned earlier in the classroom - no one cares. Ignorance and apathy run just as thick in liberal Seattle as in any other part of America.

I thought everything was pretty much hopeless, even before George W. Bush stole the White House. Then a hero arrived on the scene - Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez. I admired Chavez’ courage in standing up to the U.S. and loved his take-no-prisoners speaking style, which is very similar to my own.

Not surprisingly, I learned more about the history of the United States’ relations with Latin America and became a staunch supporter of the leftist revolution sweeping the continent.

I didn’t have much of a social life in those days. I was pretty worn down from my heavy workload and the war that was raging in the classroom. I was also an early economic casualty, even before I got laid off not long after the 9/11 “terrorist” attacks.

Salsa!

The things that cheered me up seemed to have a Latin connection. Besides Hugo Chavez, I fell in love with a local Andean music group, Quichua Mashis. While watching them perform during the University Street Fair in 2009, I heard another beautiful sound wafting out of a building behind them. I walked inside and discovered another local band I instantly fell in love with - Sambatuque.

I bought their first album, Brazilian Songbird and was mesmerized by the beautiful, energetic and somewhat mysterious songs I played over and over. The very next weekend, I attended the Seattle Folklife Festival, where I witnessed my first salsa dance. As a bonus, members of Sambatuque were performing with the live band.

Another bonus was a beautiful Latina who sat right in front of me. I was amazed to see her dance with every guy who asked her. I immediately decided to learn how to dance salsa, motivated largely by the hope that I could dance with her some day. When I asked her where she took classes, she said she wasn’t from Seattle. I never saw her again.

But I was soon taking salsa classes, anyway. It was a mixed experience.

Though exciting, Latin dance and music, combined with the culture shock, can be overwhelming for newcomers. From the beginning, I was immersed in what I later learned is popularly known as “Beginner’s Hell.” I also seemed to be jinxed.

For example, I started out taking classes from the area’s worst salsa instructor and was shocked when I learned that he has dumped on many students, men and women alike. When I started talking about blowing the whistle on him, even his critics were appalled. Some warned that the local scene was already divided into factions, and there are lots of “haters” out there. What the Hell was I getting into?

Even after connecting with some good instructors, I found classes often intimidating. Men and women have different learning curves in salsa, and it can be very humiliating to stand there frozen as you try to remember a move, with your partner watching in frustration. Some classmates were downright snotty.

Nor was the local salsa scene a tremendous morale booster. I took lots of classes for a year and tried to make it to local clubs every weekend, but I was struck by an enormous irony: It was almost never fun.

I celebrated my first Salsa Anniversary by dropping out - at least for now. The social scene simply drove me up a wall, and the economy also gave me another jolt. So was it a worthwhile experience? If I could start over, would I tackle Latin dance again?

La Musica

Absolutely. After all, the foundation of dance is music, and the music alone has changed my life. After discovering Salsa, I spent a lot of time exploring Latin music and downloading songs via iTunes. I discovered Tito Puente and wonderfully wild songs like “Black Mambo” and “Descarga de Hoy.” What song could be sexier than Rosemary Clooney’s cha cha hit “Sway?” (OK, maybe the Pussycat Dolls’ version.)

I have a dozen versions of “The Girl from Ipanema,” performed by everyone from Herb Alpert to Andy Williams, Frank Sinatra to Fernanda Valdebenito. (My favorite version is performed by the late jazz guitarist Charlie Byrd.) I have nearly a dozen versions of “Mas Que Nada.” I’ve listened to the version by Sergio Mendes and Brasil ’66 more than any other song in my collection, Latin or non-Latin. At least three other versions reconnected me with another love with a Latin connection, soccer. (The Brazilian airport commercial is a classic.)

I’ve even discovered a new category of Latin music: Bachata. (“Obsesion” is one of my favorites.) But not all of my favorites can be classified as dance music. Estrella Morente’s “Sevillanas de la Vida” is almost too beautiful for words. However, if I was to choose a personal Latin anthem, it might be the Sandpipers’ version of Guantanamera.

Viva La Revolucion!

Believe it or not, one of the things about Latin music that inspired me is politics. If you think that’s a stupid statement, join the crowd. But hear me out...

When I enquired about “political salsa songs” on a salsa forum, some people thought I was a kook. Then the thread was deleted. But I started another thread and got some good responses, including the following.

In fact, Latin music was born out of slavery and was shaped by the Cuban revolution and embargo. Salsa evolved in New York City out of the tumultuous 1960’s and 1970’s - about the time Trini Lopez recorded his hit “If I Had a Hammer” (though that isn’t a salsa song). Check out the video Politics of Rhythm.

One of my favorite Latin songs, “Hasta Siempre Comandante,” honors another of my heroes, Che Guevara. (My favorite version of the song is performed by Los Trinitarios.)

There’s an entire genre of Latin music with a political flavor called Nueva Canción. As time allows, I’ll explore it on this website.

Website

From my first misadventure in the world of Latin dance, I wished I had some guidance. I was so confused and had so many questions! I was utterly amazed at the lack of information pertaining to my local salsa scene on the Internet. It was even hard finding answers to more general questions.

That was the original inspiration for this website. I saw a need for a resource offering helpful information and advice to beginners, especially since there’s such an enormous disconnect between beginners and veteran salseros, who appear to live in a bubble.

But I had to give it a personal touch, so I injected a little politics. There really isn’t much political discussion aside from the home page(s). But I want to inspire people to open their eyes and embrace Latin dance as something bigger than recreational dance.

I’m in general agreement with people who describe salsa as “shallow and superficial.” That isn’t to say that I’m somehow right or better than people who don’t feel that way; there’s nothing wrong with dancing for the sake of dancing, just for fun. But Latin music and dance are so much bigger that! There is, or can be, something spiritual about Latin music. Though many of my neighbors might label me a kook for saying that, I’m sure there are many people in Cuba, Brazil and other countries who would agree with me.

Even here in Corporate America, I think many people are drawn to inject their personality and attitudes into the mix. Ultimately, Latin music is whatever one wants it to be.

Reflections

I hope I haven’t turned any beginners off to the idea of trying Latin dance. It can be a rough ride as you navigate around “sharks,” cliques and “haters,” and the great majority of newcomers drop out.

But it’s ultimately an individual journey through a very diverse cultural experience, and if things aren’t going right, it might be possible to troubleshoot the problem (maybe with the help of this website!). If you don’t like the cliques that hang out in local clubs, form your own clique. If you aren’t thrilled with salsa, try a different style (On1 or On2) or a different dance. (I love cha-cha-chá and bachata.) If you don’t like the club scene, try the ballroom scene (if you can afford it).

Though I didn’t have a great time dancing, I recall a few dances that I enjoyed. All of them were with beginners who didn’t care (or even notice) that I wasn’t a great dancer. Their smiles told me they were enjoying themselves. The famous, globe-trotting salsa instructor Edie The Salsa Freak knows what she’s talking about when she says the most important thing a woman can do is smile.

And, though Latin dance surprisingly isn’t the best arena for meeting people, it isn’t impossible. I didn’t celebrate the end of 2009 by going out on New Years Eve. But I went out the next night and was rewarded with my most memorable dance.

She was a Latina with a beautiful smile. I think she said she had taken few or no classes, yet she was a natural. It was the best, most complete “connection” I’ve ever felt.

Unfortunately, I never saw her again and probably never will. But she inspired me to give Latin dance another try, when the time is right. In the meantime, I’m still exploring the music and the culture.

So that’s my story. I suspect almost every U.S. citizen has had some similar experiences, making my story rather dull. Yet Latin music and dance can never really be dull, especially after you’ve learned to embrace the history and culture of which it is but a part.