I used to be a dancer. Nowadays I train to attempt to regain my former capabilities and to keep myself in the dance world enabling the possibility of re-inserting myself one day.
Each week I take contemporary classes in a well-known studio in the Nuñez neighbourhood here in BA.
I arrive at 7.30pm on a Friday evening after finishing a crazy week at work, to face the flourish of the dancer’s world when I arrive.
Ribbons in flight, hair pins, bun nets, leotards, and well used pointe shoes are being thrown around as the girls from the previous ballet class prepare themselves to go home in the changing room. There is a flurry of mums organising the little girls, helping them pack their kit bags to take them home.
The older girls casually talk about dance tecnique, steps, boys, school, and their experiences at the other studios they train at.
(A lot of the girls at this particular dance studio also train at the Colon, which is Argentina’s highest regarded dance organisation – comparable to Englands Royal Ballet Company).
This is a typical Friday evening at the studio.
However, the hype of the World Cup, has been putting everybody into a frenzy recently. This, consequentially changed the topic of conversation to more things football related.
Walalala eh o ehh, porque esto´es Africa! Hey! The girls sing as they stuff their shoes into their bags...
Surprised I am, at the knowledge the girls have during their discussions of tactic, passes and whether Argentina will win against Germany in the big match on Saturday (I am writing this of course, after Argentina lost 4-0 in that fateful match).
Walalala eh o ehh, porque esto´es Africa! Hey!
Football is in the air, and as each girl starts to leave, it is clear that each one is going home with the thought of what will happen in the morning.
The contemporary dance girls and I enter the studio to begin our class. Stretching begins, but before we commence the warm-up there is a light-hearted but passionate discussion about... football. Conveniently I have two teams to support during this World Cup, one of which had already lost out to Germany last week.
All eyes on my other team... Argentina.
My teacher Paula says to me, “and Melanie? Where does the blood connection sway you”, she said. “Who will you hinchar for?”
Cooly I say, “Well, Argentina of course... I mean, por supuesto”. All eyes are looking in my direction.
“Vamos todavia!” she exclaims, as the other girls applaud me for my dedication to the Argentina selection.
A whir of passion fleets through all of us, and for a moment everybody is insanely patriotic.
There was a pause.
We all look at one another.
The atmosphere clicks, and suddenly switches back to dance. The music goes on, and we begin the warm-up as usual. Nothing else was mentioned, but it was taken into account.
Everybody was nervous about the Argentina team taking the stage in South Africa the following day...
I wonder what it’ll be like next week after having learned the match’s result... sad times in our football crazed world...
Hasta pronto.
M
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