So, it all started when my flat mate Frantiska (Fany) saw a poster for beginner lessons at a local dance school. I'd been telling her how I would like to get more involved here and meet more people, so she suggested trying this class.
Now, I've always wanted to know how to do some classy European or Latin American dances (like the waltz or cha-cha), but to join the class, I'd need a partner. Fany helped me out once again by calling about 6 different guys she knew. Oddly enough, they were all interested. However, only one said it might work with his schedule.
Fany offered to take me to the class, since I didn't know where it was or who I'd be meeting there. We nearly missed the streetcar when it arrived. After running the last hundred yards, we made it just in time for the doors to shut. The driver had waited for us. We were talking on the streetcar, though, and forgot to pay attention to the stops. The mechanical voice announced our stop as the doors prepared to shut and move on. "Oh! We need to go out!" Fany realized.
We jumped up and ran for the doors. I barely made it out, with the doors nearly closing on me. Fany wasn't so lucky. The doors shut before she could get through and we both stood there for a second, pressing the open-the-door buttons. The driver had had enough of us, though, and drove off. Helpless, I smiled and waved as the little train moved off down the tracks. As I sat there, doubled over with laughter, she called and told me she'd get the next train back and meet me there.
After she arrived, we scampered through the slightly sketchy short-cut she'd found, trying not to slip on the ice. When we arrived at the class, there were about a hundred people there. But that wasn't the most amazing part. The most amazing part was that there were more men than women there! I love Europe!
My partner arrived at the last minute and I discovered with relief that he spoke English! This meant he could translate for me! By the end of the first hour, I realized that I wasn't quite as coordinated as I'd hoped I was. It was fine, though, because no one there had exactly mastered the dances yet.
Now, my Slovak is, uh, how do I say this nicely?...rudimentary. Luckily, Fany had informed the instructor of this. So, he'd stand there and explain a lot of things in Slovak, and I'd try to copy his posture and the steps. Finally, he'd start dancing, "Raz, dva, tri!" (one, two, three) he'd count off the steps. After this, he'd turn to me and, um, translate. He'd dance the last three steps again, but instead of counting in Slovak, he'd say "one, two, three!" and then turn back to the rest of the class.
"Thanks," I'd say, "now I understand," and I'd pray he didn't hear the sarcasm in my voice. I really did appreciate his efforts to help me understand, to be honest. After all, I'm the one in their country, not vice versa. Next week, I'm going to try to sign up for some Slovak lessons. ;-)
Now, I've always wanted to know how to do some classy European or Latin American dances (like the waltz or cha-cha), but to join the class, I'd need a partner. Fany helped me out once again by calling about 6 different guys she knew. Oddly enough, they were all interested. However, only one said it might work with his schedule.
Fany offered to take me to the class, since I didn't know where it was or who I'd be meeting there. We nearly missed the streetcar when it arrived. After running the last hundred yards, we made it just in time for the doors to shut. The driver had waited for us. We were talking on the streetcar, though, and forgot to pay attention to the stops. The mechanical voice announced our stop as the doors prepared to shut and move on. "Oh! We need to go out!" Fany realized.
We jumped up and ran for the doors. I barely made it out, with the doors nearly closing on me. Fany wasn't so lucky. The doors shut before she could get through and we both stood there for a second, pressing the open-the-door buttons. The driver had had enough of us, though, and drove off. Helpless, I smiled and waved as the little train moved off down the tracks. As I sat there, doubled over with laughter, she called and told me she'd get the next train back and meet me there.
After she arrived, we scampered through the slightly sketchy short-cut she'd found, trying not to slip on the ice. When we arrived at the class, there were about a hundred people there. But that wasn't the most amazing part. The most amazing part was that there were more men than women there! I love Europe!
My partner arrived at the last minute and I discovered with relief that he spoke English! This meant he could translate for me! By the end of the first hour, I realized that I wasn't quite as coordinated as I'd hoped I was. It was fine, though, because no one there had exactly mastered the dances yet.
Now, my Slovak is, uh, how do I say this nicely?...rudimentary. Luckily, Fany had informed the instructor of this. So, he'd stand there and explain a lot of things in Slovak, and I'd try to copy his posture and the steps. Finally, he'd start dancing, "Raz, dva, tri!" (one, two, three) he'd count off the steps. After this, he'd turn to me and, um, translate. He'd dance the last three steps again, but instead of counting in Slovak, he'd say "one, two, three!" and then turn back to the rest of the class.
"Thanks," I'd say, "now I understand," and I'd pray he didn't hear the sarcasm in my voice. I really did appreciate his efforts to help me understand, to be honest. After all, I'm the one in their country, not vice versa. Next week, I'm going to try to sign up for some Slovak lessons. ;-)
