when i dance they call me macarena.

Yesterday, I took a salsa class for the first time at the gym. It was interesting. The instructor as Spanish, of course, and had very strong smelling cologne. He wore a red shirt, black and white Adidas pant, and a pair of black running shoes.

To warm up, he taught us how to do La Macarena. I don't know about you, but I've known how to do La Macarena since I was little. His version of the popular dance was completely off, too. We didn't "shake it" when the song sang "Heeeey Macarena," we just shook it whenever his off-beat dance steps finished, if that makes any sense.

Then, he started teaching us salsa. Of course, I didn't have a partner and had to be with the teacher. I stared at him for a second before we started dancing and noticed that his eyebrows were so thin, almost like they were tattooed on. I've never understood why people tattoo on their brows or pluck/wax them really thin. The thinner your brows, the older you look.

It was awkward when he had to put his right hand on my left shoulder blade and had to hold my hand. His strong Spanish accent was telling me what to do "front, stop, back, switch, again, again, again." Then, we did the same thing to the side for a few counts. After, we went back to the front and began moving in a counter-clockwise circle.

By the time he finished that lesson, it was past 7:00p.m. and the class was only supposed to go until then. I had to leave because I could feel my stomach screaming at me to feed it. So I left. I felt bad because though Mr. Spanish, who I believe is named Sal, is awkward, he has good intentions. I still left, though.

Then, I came back to residence where I worked on collecting more research.