So my biggest issue with bulerías when I got to Jerez was the transitions. Well, ok, that’s not really true, my biggest issue after fear. But about the transitions, it was like all of a sudden I couldn’t see them. And I didn’t know what to do.
It was my first time in Ana María López’s class after dancing by myself in front of EVERYONE, which is what you have to do EVERY day there and actually NUMEROUS times every day.
And you can’t hide.
You can’t escape by leaving the room because someone calls you, even if you’re outside practicing or just trying to escape all of the smoke. - Yes, smoking. Lots of smoking goes on in class, from start to finish - And if you try to pretend you didn’t hear that you were called and still don’t come in, someone comes to get you.
I guess you could say I was kind of consumed with fear during my time in Jerez. I did things anyway, but I also didn't do things. Below is an excerpt (with some side notes) written during my first week alone there. For those who are new to this blog, I had been in Jerez a couple of weeks before for the Festival. After a brief trip to Portugal, I headed back. I arrived on Friday the 25th and began my search for classes.
Prior to leaving for Spain I knew who I wanted to take from and had names of studios and phone numbers; I even had an idea of when some of the classes were offered. Sí! I had done my research, I promise, as best as I could from Portland, Oregon...I had to for the RACC grant. And during the festival I got an idea of where the studios were located. But I had yet to figure out the class times. Could I have done more to determine this earlier in the month? Perhaps. But figuring out where and when things happen in that town is not as easy as one might think…
"I want to be in class with Mercedes ALL of the time." That is what I wrote in my journal on April 13. But let's go back in time.
I came back to Jerez on Friday, March 25 and began investigating classes to take.
But I secretly didn't want to go to any.
A week in Jerez by myself. Poor planning by Laura. When will I learn that it simply is not fun for me to do these things alone? A week spent looking for studios, making calls, trying to understand when and where the different classes took place, feeling relief as I kept arriving at the wrong times and missing them. There is a semi-funny reason for this, but you'll have to wait to hear about it in a future post...I would like to say that this was on account of Spanish unpredictability, but it wasn't.
March 6 Sunday There is a different energy this week compared to last week. Is it due to the rain? - actually closer to the way I remember spring weather in Spain - Or perhaps it is that some of the excitement has worn off? Or is it that I am taking classes by myself this week, without any of my compañeras from home. I was only signed up for one festival course, so I decided to take a tangos workshop from Tatiana Ruíz, the daughter of Chiqui de Jerez. The girl ought to be a sergeant in the US Army, though I suppose she talks too much for that. In any case, she worked us hard today and clearly took great pleasure in doing so. My brain quickly went into overload as I tried to execute the steps at a seemingly impossible pace while at the same time struggling to understand how in the world Tatiana moved her body as she did. Later that afternoon I headed to my bata de cola class with Alicia Márquez. It moved slowly, so I was able to get things, but still, how ever do I get this awkward train to cooperate and do what Alicia's does?! As I walked down the halls of the bodega after class, I poked my head in the various rooms and fantasized that it was my home.
February 26 Saturday Our first day of classes...Nervous as ever to go to Manuel Liñan's class, and I think my nerves were contagious. Sorry, Heather. We were like eager kindergartners on the first day of school arriving 20 minutes early, the first ones there, I don't know if I've ever been the first to arrive. Actually, Manolillo was there and even said hi - we soooo enjoyed class. Went to find the supermarket afterward, and on the way (I hadn't put my jacket on yet; it was warm and we'd just worked hard!) I pass an older woman on the street. Without making eye contact she looks at my clothes and says, "Hija, hace calor pero tampoco para irte así" Haha, I love Spain! Went home to make lunch, rest a bit and review what we'd learned in class. Then off to afternoon class with Marco Flores. Was wonderful to see him again and to thank him in person for the letter of invitation he wrote me to come to the festival.
