Dance Memories

Let's create some amazing dance memories at Salsa Tumbao this year.

My earliest memories of dance involve a South African Saturday night staple - Die Boere Orkes Kompetisie*. This was a live tv show where bands competed for some sort of prize. (I forget what it was.) Picture an older group of grizzled musos playing brass instruments with an accordian thrown in. 
With music to encourage his antics, my dad would round up my sister and I and set about teaching us to dance. This involved a lot of laughter, my sister or I standing on my dad's toes, whilst he waltzed; two-stepped; Cha Cha Chaed or lang-armed** us around the room.

Thinking back a lot of my dance memories involve my parents.  They danced beautifully!

A trip to the mountains (Giant's Castle in The Drakenberg) and dinner in the resort restuarant. There was an enormous buffet; a rather decent live band and a spectacular dance floor. But no one was dancing.
"Shall we?" says my dad, getting to his feet. My mom followed him out to the middle of the empty dance floor. My preteen sister and I didn't know where to put our faces. I'm sure we wanted to hide under the table out of embarrasment as my parents danced one song after another. Slowly other couples left their seats to join them. 

My father would always have music playing for dinner. Always appropriately themed - Italian tonight? A little Pavarotti perhaps? Mexican food? It must be Mariachi. The number of times he danced into the kitchen whilst my mother was cooking... He'd hand one of us the spoon - "Come and stir this!" and he'd whisk my mom off to dance a quick Cha Cha Cha around the dinner preparations.

These days, I'm the person dragging some poor lead onto the empty dance floor, as my sons hide their faces. After all - it only takes one person to get up and dance for others to follow. 

Salsa Tumbao 2023 is dedicated to my dad.
It's a year for memories. A year to remember the dance moments that bring you joy, pride or perhaps even a little sniffle.
And to create new ones.