Sitting, mostly sitting. And watching the others dance.
Fascinating to see the variety of shoes, and how people's feet move. Sliding along the floor, tapping, playfully stepping over a leg - now under, flicking around behind. Up top, the figures are glued together at their torsos, some loosely, some tightly. Some followers with their eyes closed, dreamily or still with a focused intent. Two black rows of folding chairs, where we watch and wait.
The music stops, the dancers break and now I'm afraid to look anyone directly in the eye. Not wanting to force them into dancing with me, an absolute beginner. Mr. A is kind about it - 'Everybody has to start somewhere', and taller than me - a feat in itself. Baggy pants and flat-bottom sneakers seem so casual, and comfortable next to the sharp high heeled ladies. I can walk fairly well, as long as it's in a straight line. The pivoting sways and turns are less natural. I'm teetering on the bones of my middle metatarsals in the fronts of my feet, feeling the floor too easily through my thin shoe linings.
Unlike swing dancing, we are rarely on our heels, the followers. Following feels different with tango. I can't read it as easily as I can in salsa or swing, can't get by on beginner's intuition. Any clumsiness is magnified. Mr.T has a firmer grip, and wears a golden pin at his collar to ward off bad karma. He lightly laughs at the idea of me coming to Practica with only one round of lessons. But isn't that the point of it, to practice? We make a better go of it. Each time we achieve the follower's cross-step, preceded by an awkward delay on my part, he adds an unemotive matter-of-fact 'thank you'. When you do dance with someone, and have managed to get them to lead you out onto the floor, you have succeeded in capturing them for 3 or 4 dances, no matter how poor a dancer you are. Potentially horrifying or amusing for both parties. I congratulate the first one for rising to the challenge.
Mostly, they dance, without explaining the moves, though sometimes I can tell they are moving me through the easy steps up to a more uncertain move, which we attempt several times until either they give up or I manage to take the right step. Watching the other followers, they move so smoothly, lightly, so easily. I'm certain I can do better if I can create more stability in my shoe situation. That must be half the battle. A few hours in, my nerves calm, and I'm more at ease as I sit in my black folding chair, though I'd rather be moving.
