Last Saturday I did something I’ve been looking forward to for a while: I went to see a flamenco show. Countless numbers of shows are put on every week in Granada, but some of these are over touristy and according to natives, not as authentic as they should be.
I’ve never considered myself a dancer, nor have I ever felt compelled enough to give it a go as a hobby. I’m in fact a dancing couch potato. I’d happily sit in front of the TV to watch and gawp at how people can be that flexible and move different parts of their body that fast. I’m unfortunately not a fan of Zumba either, although earlier today Sofia dragged me along the Vivo Latino dance class at the gym. As I have fatefully discovered in the body pump classes I’ve recently been going to, I was once again the whitest and palest person there. Never have I resented the presence of walled mirrors so much.
Despite my abysmal attempt to mimic the moves of the personal trainer at the front of the class (who had a stunning bum I must say) and feeling like a complete idiot, I daresay I enjoyed it. I had dragged Sofia to body pump you see on Monday and she’s been complaining ever since about her arms hurting.
Revenge comes in different forms.
Maybe I’ll go next week. The woman did say patience was required to master all the moves, so I shall remain hopeful. The level at Vivo Latino was a far cry from what I saw last Saturday though.
Flamenco dance is a type of Spanish folk music which originated in Andalusia and is thought to have started among the gitano or gypsy Romani community in the region and it’s common to find people of this origin performing it today. The guitarist and the female singer who we saw were gitanos, or Romani gypsies according to Sofia’s careful identification of them. It’s made up of four parts: cante (singing), toque (guitar playing), baile (dance) and palmas (handclaps) the percussive sounds of which all come together to produce a lot of rhythmic noise.
The whole show lasted just over an hour, and as a spectator it was pretty impressive. The dancers moved their bodies so fast it was incredible. The rather good looking guy had a brilliant bum too (*pattern emerging). Sofia and I happened to be seated at the back of the audience under some blue strobe lighting which remained lit for the entire performance. When the guy miraculously did some fast turns he focused on a point when stopping and he had nowhere to look but at us, which all added to the atmosphere.
After we went out for Tapas in the centre where more sophisticated and less studenty style food is served. Sofia had lent me some green woolly tights to wear which upon reflection was a big mistake. They went rather well with the playsuit I was wearing and it was a cold night so my black 20-denier ones wouldn’t have sufficed. But when I introduced myself as Fiona, the Shrek comparison was joked about and the green tights there and then became the bane of my life. I hadn’t actually ever seen Sofia in them…
My turn for revenge.