So I show up to Danza Moderna practice on Wednesday after several weeks of missing practice and, of course, find out that we have a performance on Saturday. There is going to be a competition between all the hogares; one boy and one girl from each corresponding hogar (same ages) have to dance. It’s all based on Bailando Por Un Sueño, sort of the Honduran version of So You Think You Can Dance or Dancing with the Stars. Juan Bautista (the group leader) is one of the judges, so we’re not competing, just doing a special presentation. As with all things on the Ranch, we are doing this last minute. So we start a brand new dance and have extra practices from 1:00-4:00 Thursday and Friday. Awesome.
My girls (and Tía Delmy) have been hinting all week that I should dance for the hogar. I initially declined because I thought it should be one of the girls. Eliu, one of my favorite kids and the elected dancer from Discipulos, asked me on Friday if I would dance because no one from Pilares wanted to do it. And we all know how good I am at saying no.
So I show up Saturday thrilled that I don’t have to do manual labor because I get to make up the dance with Eliu. And I’m thinking I’ll do one song – easy peasy lemon squeezy y ya está. But no. Apparently, the rules are that we have to do four styles of dance – punta, bachata, reggaeton, and merengue. So here are my responsibilities (and keep in mind this is for the same night): get Eliu’s tío to let him come practice, find four songs for each dance style, create a remix of said songs, burn onto a blank CD which I don’t have, choreograph, and practice. I manage to do all this between the hours of 9:00 and 11:00. Yes, I am magic. I get the music from my laptop, some of my girls, and volunteers. Our assistant director Ross (also a friend from Puyallup) finds me a blank CD. Laura, who hates doing remixes but is the only one who can do them, agrees to do one for me. I nominate her for sainthood and pay her in bars of chocolate (they are great currency here on the Ranch – sort of like cigarettes in prison). The choreography and practice part are easy because Eliu happens to be a great dancer. He’s one of the few kids who knows how to dance with his face, if you know what I mean. Not a problem for me – thank you, dance team.
I run back home after lunch to get ready for mass. Running around barefoot and stressed out, I somehow manage to trip and take off a chunk of my foot (right from my beautiful dancer’s callous). Good thing I don’t have to dance on it or anything. Sona dumps on some iodine (I scream like the big baby I am) and bandages me up. I call Juan Bautista who informs me that we are practicing after mass because he has added ANOTHER SONG. I tell him I plan on punching him, but dutifully show up to practice in talleres. Afterwards, we get kicked out so they can set up the sound system. I offer the salon of San Vicente, and we head that way while Juan goes to find a missing dancer. On the way, I find out Eliu is looking for me. I track him down and tell him to meet me in half an hour because the remix is not yet done (at this point, we’ve only practiced to the songs separately). I’m back at San Vicente in a blink, borrow the keys from Lauren, and somehow manage to LOCK MYSELF IN. I scream from the window and am rescued by some of the volunteers because my fellow dancemates are too busy laughing hysterically. We practice, and when Eliu shows up, I run out to grab the remix. Once I’ve finished with Danza Moderna, Eliu and I run through our dance a few times before I have to get ready.
When I show up all dolled up to my hogar, I am greeted with screeches of delight from my girls. I get lots of “¡Qué guapa andas!” to my personal favorite via Sheila: “¡Qué big sexy!” I shove some food down and head down to talleres with my tía, who I have now officially and completely won over. Both dances go extremely well, but it is with my dance with Eliu that I am most tickled (that’s us dancing in the photo). Before I go on, everyone from my little Casa Suyapans to my girls in Pilares to my favorite año familiars tell me they are going to support me. I fully admit that I love attention, and I felt like a rock star having my name chanted by people who love me. Eliu starts out by grabbing the microphone and explaining that the style of punta we’ll be doing is different from other groups because it comes from the Garífuna people of the north coast and can only be danced by people of “sangre negra.” Eliu is beloved by all the Ranch, and they erupt in cheers before we’ve even begun. The dance goes spectacularly well and is the most pure, unadulterated fun I’ve had in a long time. I pull out all the stops and proceed to kiss each judge on the cheek during our exit (it also helps that they’re all guys I’m friends or acquaintances left). Everyone loves our dance; even Jason (one of my substitute little brothers) accidentally gives me a compliment he can’t take back. We get 5 out of 5 from judge Dagoberto and 145 out of 5 from Juan Bautista. Mauricio’s score is secret. After snack, the winners are announced. We end up getting first place in our category (albeit out of two couples) and are rewarded with two pieces of pizza each, which I proceed to share with my consentida. SSSSSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
My girls (and Tía Delmy) have been hinting all week that I should dance for the hogar. I initially declined because I thought it should be one of the girls. Eliu, one of my favorite kids and the elected dancer from Discipulos, asked me on Friday if I would dance because no one from Pilares wanted to do it. And we all know how good I am at saying no.
So I show up Saturday thrilled that I don’t have to do manual labor because I get to make up the dance with Eliu. And I’m thinking I’ll do one song – easy peasy lemon squeezy y ya está. But no. Apparently, the rules are that we have to do four styles of dance – punta, bachata, reggaeton, and merengue. So here are my responsibilities (and keep in mind this is for the same night): get Eliu’s tío to let him come practice, find four songs for each dance style, create a remix of said songs, burn onto a blank CD which I don’t have, choreograph, and practice. I manage to do all this between the hours of 9:00 and 11:00. Yes, I am magic. I get the music from my laptop, some of my girls, and volunteers. Our assistant director Ross (also a friend from Puyallup) finds me a blank CD. Laura, who hates doing remixes but is the only one who can do them, agrees to do one for me. I nominate her for sainthood and pay her in bars of chocolate (they are great currency here on the Ranch – sort of like cigarettes in prison). The choreography and practice part are easy because Eliu happens to be a great dancer. He’s one of the few kids who knows how to dance with his face, if you know what I mean. Not a problem for me – thank you, dance team.
I run back home after lunch to get ready for mass. Running around barefoot and stressed out, I somehow manage to trip and take off a chunk of my foot (right from my beautiful dancer’s callous). Good thing I don’t have to dance on it or anything. Sona dumps on some iodine (I scream like the big baby I am) and bandages me up. I call Juan Bautista who informs me that we are practicing after mass because he has added ANOTHER SONG. I tell him I plan on punching him, but dutifully show up to practice in talleres. Afterwards, we get kicked out so they can set up the sound system. I offer the salon of San Vicente, and we head that way while Juan goes to find a missing dancer. On the way, I find out Eliu is looking for me. I track him down and tell him to meet me in half an hour because the remix is not yet done (at this point, we’ve only practiced to the songs separately). I’m back at San Vicente in a blink, borrow the keys from Lauren, and somehow manage to LOCK MYSELF IN. I scream from the window and am rescued by some of the volunteers because my fellow dancemates are too busy laughing hysterically. We practice, and when Eliu shows up, I run out to grab the remix. Once I’ve finished with Danza Moderna, Eliu and I run through our dance a few times before I have to get ready.
When I show up all dolled up to my hogar, I am greeted with screeches of delight from my girls. I get lots of “¡Qué guapa andas!” to my personal favorite via Sheila: “¡Qué big sexy!” I shove some food down and head down to talleres with my tía, who I have now officially and completely won over. Both dances go extremely well, but it is with my dance with Eliu that I am most tickled (that’s us dancing in the photo). Before I go on, everyone from my little Casa Suyapans to my girls in Pilares to my favorite año familiars tell me they are going to support me. I fully admit that I love attention, and I felt like a rock star having my name chanted by people who love me. Eliu starts out by grabbing the microphone and explaining that the style of punta we’ll be doing is different from other groups because it comes from the Garífuna people of the north coast and can only be danced by people of “sangre negra.” Eliu is beloved by all the Ranch, and they erupt in cheers before we’ve even begun. The dance goes spectacularly well and is the most pure, unadulterated fun I’ve had in a long time. I pull out all the stops and proceed to kiss each judge on the cheek during our exit (it also helps that they’re all guys I’m friends or acquaintances left). Everyone loves our dance; even Jason (one of my substitute little brothers) accidentally gives me a compliment he can’t take back. We get 5 out of 5 from judge Dagoberto and 145 out of 5 from Juan Bautista. Mauricio’s score is secret. After snack, the winners are announced. We end up getting first place in our category (albeit out of two couples) and are rewarded with two pieces of pizza each, which I proceed to share with my consentida. SSSSSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
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