Brian Wilson said it best:

Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take you to
Bermuda, Bahamas, C'mon pretty mama.
Key Largo, Montego, Baby why don't we go down to Kokomo
We'll get there fast and then we'll take it slow...
That's where you wanna go: way down to Kokomo

I have always loved that song. I went through an intense Beach Boys/oldies phase in elementary school, and that was one of my favorites! I still jam out to it today if I ever happen upon it on the radio.

But, I digress. The kokomo in question here shall thus be renamed Cafe Cocomo. As evidenced in more one recent post, my February shall thus be renamed "Salsarary." (Unless you're AZ, then it can stay Red February).

I just wanted to describe my first encounter at the famed Cafe Cocomo.

My friend from Berkeley Opera and SFCM, Fabs, and I finally arrived (see yesterday's entry) at Cocomo around 9pm, just as the intermediate class was ending. We grabbed a drink, found a place to sit just off of the dance floor, and waited for the DJ (Chata Gutierrez!) to get the crowd going. It wasn't too terribly crowded, yet.

Let me set the stage for you: there are two of us, single, not-unattractive women waiting to dance. One of us (me) has limited salsa experience, but is eager in spirit and has plenty of rhythm. Plus, am boosted by a certain someone's comment (you know who you are) that I am not 'hopeless' when it comes to salsa. Then there is Fabs, who used to compete professionally as a Latin dancer. Yeah. She knows her s*#t, man! I did get to dance Saturday night, but really, I wouldn't have called the night a waste if I had just sat and watched her dance with some of the excellent leaders there---they were just that good.

The evening proceeded with a little caution, much fun, and, of course, various dance partners. Oh salsero, salsero, let me count thy ways . . .

1. Young black male. Totally inexperienced leader. It was the blind leading the blind. But we both had fun just trying it out. An non-threatening way to wade into the salsa-ery waters. We would dance a couple more times throughout the evening.
2. Cue Miguel. Fortunately, he was a decent dancer - and not many levels beyond myself. Unfortunately, he was eye level with my 'girls.' (Well, maybe not unfortunate for him, but it sure makes turns a little difficult). As an added bonus, he tells me he plays the pan flute.
3. After some egging from Fabs, I ask a tall (!) Latin man to dance. He was a really good dancer, and a great leader. I just felt bad that I didn't know enough to follow him very well. But he was very patient, kind, and explained some things to me. I must admit, however, that my merengue wasn't too shabby. Later on in the evening, he asked me dance again, checking to see what I'd learned so far.
4. Bald white dude, Sam. Told me I should've come earlier for the lesson, but that I wasn't doing too badly. Showed me some more moves and led well, but had really bad BO.
5. Suave black man. Asked me to dance, and was (again) not too upset that I was a beginner. He was just showing off, though, in his leading. All over the place -- more Cuban style, too.

All in all, I learned enough to know that I need to know more to have the confidence to really get out there and do it (and not feel bad when asked/asking to dance). HA! But, it was SO MUCH FUN!!!!! Tonight, I went to a beginners' salsa class. It was fun, and I am going to stick with this and see what I can learn. Keep an eye out for more salsa-craziness!