In moving through this new year where I have promised to be a better friend, I also want to be a better student. A student of everything. I want to learn more. I want to go to graduate school. And I want to learn to salsa.
Yes, salsa.
And I have started. At the Rumba Room here in Memphis, they do Salsa lessons at 9:30 on Friday and Saturday nights. I had so much fun and I am still very sore. I wasn't very good and had a hard time being led, but I kept getting asked to dance. It is like prom without dates, so don't bring one that isn't okay with you dancing with other people. My only date was my chick friend who was pretty good at salsa and kept getting asked to danced by the best dancers all night. I wasn't asked for a while after the lesson. The guys knew I was new and not very good. After a while though, it seemed like they got their "good" dances in and were very willing to happily ask me to dance. I met a lot of people from Mexico and all over the country. I learned not to stomp each step but quickly and quietly make each move with less, well, definition. Also, making small steps led to only small mistakes. From now on, I am asking off every Friday night so I can get better. Plus, I never wear make up, but I should start wearing it once at week and get some self-esteem.
My cultural identity is kind of weird.
I hate spanish. It is an ugly language. Most of it, anyway. But I love the bright colors of Central America and the festivities. And I love watching people salsa.
There are many reasons why I suck at salsa, which translate into why I am a sucky girlfriend. I am too controlling. I don't like being led, especially by a man. I don't pick up cues (for example: when a guy lifts your arm in salsa, you spin in that direction). I love dancing, but generally I'm embarrassed by it, so I really enjoy watching.
That last one seems off, but it isn't.
I love the idea of love. I do. Seriously. It is a great thing. And I absolutely love being a part of people's relationships and such (don't get me wrong, I'm still not a wedding fan).
But at the end of the day, I'm not really a match for love. I like my independence too much. I'm not trusting and by "not trusting," I do mean, SERIOUS trust issues. Not jealousy issues, just, intimacy-trust issues.
In essence, I've become pretty French since Paris in a lot of ways. I've got the social ideology's of the French with a love for Latin culture (well, just the dancing, geography, and general obnoxious and bright design schemes).
As I wrote before; The French are like coconuts and we Americans, peaches. I've become very hard on the outside, friendly but not trusting or intimate. But I have also become very close to those I keep close. Americans, in general, let a lot of people in and keep lots of "friends."
My peers keep asking me where I've been and why I've fallen off the face of the planet.
"I've been busy."
And I have.
I have been busy burning bridges that carry poison. I've been busy realizing that I'm really not alone and some amazing people have been by my side the whole time. I've been busy with school. With applying to graduate school. With giving this internship everything I have.
And I love my new life. I've learned a lot about the character of housekeepers.
They aren't just low-down people that do your dirty work. They're emotional intelligent beings. They know more about you than many of your friends once they enter your room, based on what you leave out, what you keep in drawers (if you use them), how you leave articles out. This isn't to say we go snooping. Housekeepers don't have time for that. They also don't steal. It isn't worth their job, they NEED this job. Stop accusing them of stealing the instant you lose something. They don't have time to go through your bag and take something. They want to get home to their families and the people they love.
A lot of work goes into cleaning and pressing those sheets, stocking those miniature toiletry items, and cleaning your room for arrival and throughout your stay.
Be thankful.
Tip each day (since your keeper probably changes).
Send some good karma your way.
After realizing how much they have taught me, I realized you could teach me, too.
Just as I love standing by and watching the great salsa dancers move or the great lovers, well, love; I want to read more blogs. I want to be a bystander in someone else's life, too. I know I never get comments, I mean, what would you say anyway? I never ask questions, but here goes one or two, and I really hope I don't end up talking to the wall.
What are some personal blogs you love to read?
What do you want me to write more about?
