Salsa is all about the women. If women didn’t love salsa, no guy in the world would ever go through the Hell of salsa training. During several recent salsa scholastic episodes, my instructors have encouraged me to keep my feet moving. I plead guilty. When I’m dancing, I have a whirling dervish right in front of me. If I’m not careful, I’m going to eat an elbow, or worse.
I’ve watched numerous world-class salsa performances at Gonzo’s SalsaMania. While the woman executes some fabulous move, the guy doesn’t dance around; he just stands there and supports her, with his feet flat on the floor and his knees bent. Like a matador.
So, yeah, my feet stop moving occasionally, but it’s because I want to protect my partner.
Because salsa is all about the women.
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