We arrived in Goa about 12 days into the India tour. Enough time to get a feel for India. My intitial impression was "this is a spread out version of koh phi phi" which, if you read my last post, know I didn't like. The fact that it was spread out made it feel much more manageable and tolerable. There was still an energy in Goa that was exciting.
It is important to note a distinction between Goa and Phi phi. On phi phi the locals stay away from the beach. In Goa the (female) tourists tend to avoid the beach due to the legions of staring men.
Dance party 1.
The group had gone out for drinks and dinner and I was feeling well lubricated. Somehow we ended up at a club that in order to get into one of the girls in the group had to pretend to be my girlfriend. Girls get in free, couples get in free, single guys pay a ridiculous cover charge. Whatever.
So we walk into the pleasantly air conditioned club playing good music and what do we see but the biggest deli of a sausage fest in a club I've ever seen. A quick scan and there were probably about 200 people in the club. I would guess 85-90% were men. In rolls a group of 10 white western tourists (who would get the stares anyway) of which, 8 are female who want to dance and party.
We sort of swallow the awkwardness of the situation, form our little circle and try and pick up our own energy, try to avoid being stared at (i don't feel personally stared at), try not to pay attention to the fact that hardly anyone in the room is dancing. The chute could have been pulled 5 minutes in. It was awkward. Luckily, after how ever many minutes a few more people adjusted to seeing us and started dancing and minding their own business. A few girls in the group were inevitably asked to pose for pictures with some of the men. Energy was still down.
A random dude started trying to join into our group. Back home, these dudes are promptly ignored and on several occasions I've cut in to block the guy from reaching for one of my friends going so far as pretending to be boyfriend to get rid of the intruder. Not here though. Not in this situation. We welcomed him in. It was alright that he joined but truthfully he didn't add too much by way of dancing or energy. What he did do though, was break the ice between tourist and local.
Maybe a couple songs later another circle near us was dancing pretty hard. We invited the merge. About a dozen people forming a new circle. A mix of cultures, a mix of dance styles. Synergy, if you will, if I can use such a term.
This moment was the catalyst. It woke the club up. Suddenly there was not only our newly formed energized circle, but many others on the periphery of it wanting to get in on the act.
Suddenly, everyone was dancing in our area. People took turn jumping into the middle and doing their thing. Classic dance circle and given the cultural differences a real mix of styles. What was really surprising to see was the talent that stepped forward, that was in the club all along, waiting to shine. A guy was doing some cool animation styles, another guy started break dancing. They were good! Another guy in that group had plenty of impressive footwork. These guys were true club dancers. It was awesome to see. They even did some pre-set choreography they must have had up their sleeves for such an occasion. We were all playing off of one another. Such a mix of energy. I was asked by the one girl in their group of I knew how to salsa. I said only a little. I was a bit disappointed in myself, she was such a good dancer and it would have been a blast to do some salsa with her.
I found myself having more fun than I have most times I've gone out back in Canada. All this dancing with a bunch of Indian men and a few of my friends from the tour group, including a legendary kiwi in our group who dances the way I think everyone should when out: energy at 10 shame at 0, was proving to be a blast.
The night ended for me leaving a little while later and before I left I sought out the small group of friendly, skilled, local dancers which I had so much fun dancing with. I shook hands with all of them and thanked them. They thanked me. It was awesome. Such a turn around in energy from impressions walking in to feelings walking out.
Dance party 2.
The following night the group was out for a dinner which was the final night for some members of the group as well as our tour leader. So obviously, we had to go out.
Instead of going to a club we found our way walking to one of the beach restaurants that can double as a dance floor that was playing Indian dance music. We all sat down to simply have a drink. The music was pretty good but nobody was really into dancing. Occasionally, we saw a couple drunk Russian girls do some minimal dancing or a small group of guys start dancing for a song and then disappear. I actually thought the guys might have been getting a cut from the club to try and drum up energy.
We sat having our drinks for probably about an hour. I was getting antsy though. I was ready to dance. There was so little going on from any form of energy from anyone else I wondered if it would flop or if dancing would even be attempted. We needed a catalyst. After a rather good song played I could see a few people in our group doing the head bob. They were feeling it. I was feeling it. Again, we needed a catalyst but I wasn't sure I was feeling it to the extent of putting myself out there solo. I turned to the kiwi in the group to dance. Together, we would be catalysts and light the energy up.
Light it up we did. The kiwi, myself, and a few other from the group decided to start dancing. Within less than 2 songs I interjected myself with one of the dancing circles of dudes acting like an excitable and friendly idiot. This is the same strategy I've used on several occasions and the strategy that got me the epic cooking lesson in Thailand. It worked. Once again, as if in a snap of the fingers there was a cicrcle of energy that seemed impossible to conjour just moments earlier. Not only that, all of a sudden there were probably about 40-50 people dancing. There weren't even 30 in the area moments earlier.
We danced with the locals. What was different this time is that our little group seemed to get split up. Each of the westerners seemed to have their own little group of locals to dance with. I tried to replicate their moves and learn from them. At one point I learned that the particular song was a snake dance and I should dance like a snake. Dance like a snake I did, complete with hands clasped together in front of my face (replicating a tongue I presume) and waving my body to mimmick the slithering of the snake. Great fun. I took a brief video of the commotion and in doing so one of the guys told me to keep dancing. I tried to explain that I was filming to capture the moment.
In being the eager and excitable student I suddenly became the centre of attention. I was asked to be in pictures with some of the guys dancing. This wasn't so bizarre. Over the first 2 weeks in India I had been asked to pose for pictures along side locals a number of times. That number, however, was nowhere close to my female counterparts who probably received 5 times the number of requests and about 30 times more looks and stares. I didn't have a problem posing for the pics. It was fun and I didn't feel objectified or sexualized the way I'm sure many, if not all, of my female companions did.
After a few minutes I realized I had been in over 30 photos. In fact, I was doing more posing for photos than dancing at this point. The parade of people making requests seemed never ending. Where the hell did all these guys come from? They weren't here that long ago. I kept playing along and kept posing for photos. I decided that if these guys are going to get photos then I was to. I posed with a group of fellas to get a photo of my own. I was able to get some more dancing in and the crowd of people seemed to continue to grow, as did the photo requests which weren't so much of requests as it was a guy walking up saying "picture picture" while putting his arm around me and getting into a good stance for a selfie.
The dancing and photos kept going and then, without any warning and mid way through a song the music cut. What happened? The music had cut a few times earlier, but that was attributed to bad dj-ing. This time it didn't come back on. We then heard that the guys running the place cut the music. The reason? Too many people showed up who were participating who hadn't bought a drink. We were told that after a few minutes and some people cleared out that they would start it back up. We were okay with that, we would have some drinks in the interim.
10 minutes pass. 20 minutes. 30. No music. Chairs are being brought into the restaurant. It is clear that no party is being started back up. That's the end of that.
2 nights and 2 dance parties and multiple times people saying 'picture' to me 2 times in quick succession leaves the memory of dancing with locals in India. Another experience I would have never expected but sure glad I can add to the memories of this great adventure.
It is important to note a distinction between Goa and Phi phi. On phi phi the locals stay away from the beach. In Goa the (female) tourists tend to avoid the beach due to the legions of staring men.
Dance party 1.
The group had gone out for drinks and dinner and I was feeling well lubricated. Somehow we ended up at a club that in order to get into one of the girls in the group had to pretend to be my girlfriend. Girls get in free, couples get in free, single guys pay a ridiculous cover charge. Whatever.
So we walk into the pleasantly air conditioned club playing good music and what do we see but the biggest deli of a sausage fest in a club I've ever seen. A quick scan and there were probably about 200 people in the club. I would guess 85-90% were men. In rolls a group of 10 white western tourists (who would get the stares anyway) of which, 8 are female who want to dance and party.
We sort of swallow the awkwardness of the situation, form our little circle and try and pick up our own energy, try to avoid being stared at (i don't feel personally stared at), try not to pay attention to the fact that hardly anyone in the room is dancing. The chute could have been pulled 5 minutes in. It was awkward. Luckily, after how ever many minutes a few more people adjusted to seeing us and started dancing and minding their own business. A few girls in the group were inevitably asked to pose for pictures with some of the men. Energy was still down.
A random dude started trying to join into our group. Back home, these dudes are promptly ignored and on several occasions I've cut in to block the guy from reaching for one of my friends going so far as pretending to be boyfriend to get rid of the intruder. Not here though. Not in this situation. We welcomed him in. It was alright that he joined but truthfully he didn't add too much by way of dancing or energy. What he did do though, was break the ice between tourist and local.
Maybe a couple songs later another circle near us was dancing pretty hard. We invited the merge. About a dozen people forming a new circle. A mix of cultures, a mix of dance styles. Synergy, if you will, if I can use such a term.
This moment was the catalyst. It woke the club up. Suddenly there was not only our newly formed energized circle, but many others on the periphery of it wanting to get in on the act.
Suddenly, everyone was dancing in our area. People took turn jumping into the middle and doing their thing. Classic dance circle and given the cultural differences a real mix of styles. What was really surprising to see was the talent that stepped forward, that was in the club all along, waiting to shine. A guy was doing some cool animation styles, another guy started break dancing. They were good! Another guy in that group had plenty of impressive footwork. These guys were true club dancers. It was awesome to see. They even did some pre-set choreography they must have had up their sleeves for such an occasion. We were all playing off of one another. Such a mix of energy. I was asked by the one girl in their group of I knew how to salsa. I said only a little. I was a bit disappointed in myself, she was such a good dancer and it would have been a blast to do some salsa with her.
I found myself having more fun than I have most times I've gone out back in Canada. All this dancing with a bunch of Indian men and a few of my friends from the tour group, including a legendary kiwi in our group who dances the way I think everyone should when out: energy at 10 shame at 0, was proving to be a blast.
The night ended for me leaving a little while later and before I left I sought out the small group of friendly, skilled, local dancers which I had so much fun dancing with. I shook hands with all of them and thanked them. They thanked me. It was awesome. Such a turn around in energy from impressions walking in to feelings walking out.
Dance party 2.
The following night the group was out for a dinner which was the final night for some members of the group as well as our tour leader. So obviously, we had to go out.
Instead of going to a club we found our way walking to one of the beach restaurants that can double as a dance floor that was playing Indian dance music. We all sat down to simply have a drink. The music was pretty good but nobody was really into dancing. Occasionally, we saw a couple drunk Russian girls do some minimal dancing or a small group of guys start dancing for a song and then disappear. I actually thought the guys might have been getting a cut from the club to try and drum up energy.
We sat having our drinks for probably about an hour. I was getting antsy though. I was ready to dance. There was so little going on from any form of energy from anyone else I wondered if it would flop or if dancing would even be attempted. We needed a catalyst. After a rather good song played I could see a few people in our group doing the head bob. They were feeling it. I was feeling it. Again, we needed a catalyst but I wasn't sure I was feeling it to the extent of putting myself out there solo. I turned to the kiwi in the group to dance. Together, we would be catalysts and light the energy up.
Light it up we did. The kiwi, myself, and a few other from the group decided to start dancing. Within less than 2 songs I interjected myself with one of the dancing circles of dudes acting like an excitable and friendly idiot. This is the same strategy I've used on several occasions and the strategy that got me the epic cooking lesson in Thailand. It worked. Once again, as if in a snap of the fingers there was a cicrcle of energy that seemed impossible to conjour just moments earlier. Not only that, all of a sudden there were probably about 40-50 people dancing. There weren't even 30 in the area moments earlier.
We danced with the locals. What was different this time is that our little group seemed to get split up. Each of the westerners seemed to have their own little group of locals to dance with. I tried to replicate their moves and learn from them. At one point I learned that the particular song was a snake dance and I should dance like a snake. Dance like a snake I did, complete with hands clasped together in front of my face (replicating a tongue I presume) and waving my body to mimmick the slithering of the snake. Great fun. I took a brief video of the commotion and in doing so one of the guys told me to keep dancing. I tried to explain that I was filming to capture the moment.
In being the eager and excitable student I suddenly became the centre of attention. I was asked to be in pictures with some of the guys dancing. This wasn't so bizarre. Over the first 2 weeks in India I had been asked to pose for pictures along side locals a number of times. That number, however, was nowhere close to my female counterparts who probably received 5 times the number of requests and about 30 times more looks and stares. I didn't have a problem posing for the pics. It was fun and I didn't feel objectified or sexualized the way I'm sure many, if not all, of my female companions did.
After a few minutes I realized I had been in over 30 photos. In fact, I was doing more posing for photos than dancing at this point. The parade of people making requests seemed never ending. Where the hell did all these guys come from? They weren't here that long ago. I kept playing along and kept posing for photos. I decided that if these guys are going to get photos then I was to. I posed with a group of fellas to get a photo of my own. I was able to get some more dancing in and the crowd of people seemed to continue to grow, as did the photo requests which weren't so much of requests as it was a guy walking up saying "picture picture" while putting his arm around me and getting into a good stance for a selfie.
The dancing and photos kept going and then, without any warning and mid way through a song the music cut. What happened? The music had cut a few times earlier, but that was attributed to bad dj-ing. This time it didn't come back on. We then heard that the guys running the place cut the music. The reason? Too many people showed up who were participating who hadn't bought a drink. We were told that after a few minutes and some people cleared out that they would start it back up. We were okay with that, we would have some drinks in the interim.
10 minutes pass. 20 minutes. 30. No music. Chairs are being brought into the restaurant. It is clear that no party is being started back up. That's the end of that.
2 nights and 2 dance parties and multiple times people saying 'picture' to me 2 times in quick succession leaves the memory of dancing with locals in India. Another experience I would have never expected but sure glad I can add to the memories of this great adventure.
2 comments:
You are the dance machine Marcus, just like that time in the night-club in Varadero when you created energy and you showed that girl from Quebec what circle dancing is all about.
Good on you....all those years at Sherwood Park School of Dance has paid off.
Dad
I also cannot forget that one time at SLC when Flash's band was playing at sunset on the beach. The kids were just bobbing their head but not really jamming. After about 4 songs in, you came out with Jon (I think) with a wig and blazer and jumped in the canoe filled with warm water, stomping and slashing everyone nearby. Once you did that, so much energy came in and all the kids were going just as crazy wild as you were. Everyone was really jamming to Flash's songs totally taking it to a "hole notha Leval!!". Great to hear you still have it!
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