There is Life Outside Dancing

– Don’t move that arm.
When the x-ray guy said that my mind went: “Houston, we have a problem!”
I fell off a horse at the beginning of the year and injured my arm. It was getting better everyday but then, it stopped improving so I went to see a doctor.
X-ray done: it is fractured; had been for 15 days. Waiting for the specialist in the waiting room I had tears rolling down my cheeks while I was thinking “my salsa congress! My performance!”
I’m a dancer. Any doctor will tell you the worst patients in the whole wide world are in this order:
1) Doctors, they do not admit they are sick;
2) Dancers, they know they are sick but will not miss the rehearsals, “give me something fast I have to heal in the next hour” attitude, and they always have bulimia or anorexia in different degrees;
3) Sportists, same as dancers but not necessarily bulimic or anorexic.
The doctors at the emergency room were looking at me as if I was a freak. (No, I am not). The first doctor asked quietly:
– Have you been dancing?
I smiled a cheeky smile and said:
– Yes, but only with one arm. To prove it I showed my good arm, though I didn’t seem to have impressed him much…
He seemed robbed for words. Didn’t say a thing. I think he was considering calling psychiatry on me. Fortunately “they” didn’t show up. I could have been committed if they did.
The nurse kept looking at me and tsk-tsking, then she asked once:
– Didn’t it hurt?
What they don’t get is that dancing does never know total absence of pain. You always have at least a blister, or a painful muscle, a few bruises from the tricks and dips, etc. Not counting the accidents, the falls, the hurting feet after dancing eight hours straight. So a fractured bone is painful but bearable, as all those other pains are.
Anyway now I have this broken wing and after my fair share of crying decided to get the best out of it.
I will have to understand that there is life outside dancing.
The other day I went out with some new friends. We were at one of their houses. I hope I wasn’t looking too stupid because it’s how I felt. They were playing this music trivia game. All I could think was: “I’m an alien!” I had no idea. There is a whole universe I don’t know about! It was if they were talking another language. Complete gibberish. I seldom recognised one name of one group or artist and I had no idea which Motown act scored the most different #1 singles in the same year. I only know what Motown is because of a choreography I saw…
Oh, I love music, I dance them, I listen to them, but in my ipod they are always listed as track 1; track 2; track 3. I don’t get it, what’s the point in buying the original CDs if the songs still appear as track 1; track 2; track 3? I’m probably doing something wrong here, but never have time to sort it out before the next rehearsal.
What stroke me that night was the thought: “These are normal people, not dancers. The kind that go out for other than dancing and have other interests and have lives full of other… things!”
I cannot imagine my life without dancing. I had to stop for a few years and I remember that page of my life as my “dark age”… none the less I can only believe now that this fractured bone has come to show me that there is something else out there!

(Orble Votes: 42)

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About Bread, Buses and Dancing

After living in Australia for five years I went back on vacations to Brazil. I woke up in the beautiful city of Fortaleza, up north, and the first thing that came to my mind was: fresh bread. Real freshly baked bread. We have something there called the “bakery in the corner”. Meaning there is one everywhere and it is a wonder! Fresh bread baked every half hour, crusty, delicious, just baked buns.
If I was a cartoon I would be flying on the delicious smell through the air…
The fact that this wonder is not available here in Aussieland made me look for the reasons. First would be the labour costs then the technical limitations. Apparently small baking ovens for quick production are not easily obtained around here.
I’m a writer, so whenever the urge to go for a great business idea strikes me I write about it extensively. For the ones that actually put them in practice I leave you the idea of a chain of stores that would bake bread every half hour, all day.
Back to Brazil, I was there, in front of the bakery when a bus stopped. When the doors opened I could only think: “Gosh! Someone is going to fall off!” By now I’m used to Sydney buses where the driver stops people coming in when the vehicle is slightly packed (at least in comparison). To see that bus so full that people were actually falling from it was chocking. And it got worse! When people from outside started pushing and by sheer miracle managed to squeeze another ten in!
I had to seat down to laugh. People started looking at me thinking me completely nuts.
Talking about crowds, Fortaleza is a city of Forro a popular couple’s dance style. So, as a dancer, I had to check it out. It was there that I promised I would kill the next Ossie that complained to me about either full or hot Salsa dance floors in Sydney.
Only being in Brazilian Forro’s floors you can fully comprehend what a really huge hot and full dance floor is. The idea of personal space is turned into a myth. Every inch is fought over with elbows. The body heat generated is enough to warm Siberia for a month!

(Orble Votes: 52)

Welcome to 2009 Written Life! New Author, New Ideas!

This is my new Blog and my idea is to use the name of the site as its theme: writing about life. Mine and in general.
This is the best time to start something new: beginning of the year, just after vacations, writing about life now will be even easier…

(Orble Votes: 44)