Over the last few weeks I spent a few evenings with Hanoi's Salsa lovers. First at a dancing class, and then at nights for more experienced dancers. Most of the dancers taking lessons are women and, due to the lack of men, often end up dancing with each other or with the air. Under a ceiling of balloons and in front of a mirrored wall they practice their steps and wait for the day they're ready for....the Melia...which is something else entirely. The dancefloor is packed with couples hurling each other around and grinding their bodies into one another while seemingly using telepathy to follow intricate, matched dance steps and movements. And at the same time they somehow manage to avoid clattering into the other couples dancing millimetres away and smashing them into a sudden wet spray of chopped tomato and onion; not one Salsa crash did I see, not a single one.
Spicy, skilful, sensual stuff.


Post a Comment