Sunday, February 17, 2008

Dance: For The Woman and Her Daughter from Costa Rica

I danced last night, in a local tavern with a tiny dance floor. But they were playing good rap/hip hop now and then. I didn't care what anyone thought, but other people, after enough drinks, did get onto the floor. Some guy was commenting about my "Shakira" moves and I was trying to hear the music and feel it. I noticed a woman at the bar, who stood out a little. Everyone there was wearing casual clothing, and not of the most expensive brand, but this woman had short highlighted hair, manicured nails, a rust-colored shearling vest with a grey fur collar, bronze silk turtleneck, trousers, and cute shoes. She had dinner and was drinking white wine. I noticed she was watching me dance with interest and a sometimes far-away expression. I came up to the bar for my own drink, which was water, and she approached me. She said she was watching me because I had reminded her of her daughter, who loves to dance, and shehad to give me a hug and embraced me warmly. This woman was about 50-60 years old, beautiful, and beautiful to the touch--all fur, shearling, and thick silk. The warm colors offset her brown-amber eyes, which seemed so sad. She said thank you (to me!) for being free to dance, and she told me to keep dancing, no matter what anyone thinks. I asked her where she was from and she said she's from Costa Rica. She and her daughter love dancing with a passion and just finished a trip to Cancun, Mexico. She told me she is sad for her daughter sometimes, because her daughter is going to a University in Canada, and the other women are so straight and more uptight and don't want to dance like her daughter does. She tells her daughter to dance anyway.

This woman told me she was going through a difficult time too, and didn't tell me her problems, and she wasn't at all intoxicated, but she found, in me, a kindred spirit. I will never forget her, or that night. It is the first time I've been out dancing since I became pregnant with my son. After he was born, I slept by his side every night. Last night, I danced, not with other men, but just on my own, in a group on the floor, even though I am sad...and I could feel the music. I know my spirit is strong and my son is strong. Most people may not understand me, but a few do, even in passing. To be read by a stranger is a curious thing. How did she know?

We always have a choice to be free.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hi Cameo

What Happened to you ? we were worried please phone. look on your email if you forgot the number. we really need to talk.
D.B.

Anonymous said...

Dancing has changed my outlook on life. I've never been one to get out and dance but I always used to admire those that could dance well, especially in the disciplined dances. When my friend Erica and I started tango lessons it was just a fun thing to try. I was hooked immediately and started to dance 5-6 nights a week to get better. My entire self image changed. It's a wonderful thing to express oneself through one's body. Many Westerners don't feel comfortable with it and are missing out on a very therapeutic form of communication.
I hope you are doing ok Cameo. I'm glad that it's your family that have your son. My family is praying for you. I will say this to you and to everyone about you: "Cameo is an artist, she is no different than Bjork, Madonna, etc. whom many would find "different" and hard to understand, but she would never hurt a hair on anyone's head". I actually agree with what the woman said to you awhile back in your blog about being an activist, I told you how I felt a long time ago, but this does not mean I would not support you as a friend and pray for you too.
I know you are busy but hope to hear from you soon.

I have my own battles to fight this week as I am facing a lawsuit for an accident with a police van. I was found not guilty for the accident but still have been sued. I hope to have your prayers too.

Love,
Kelly

Mama said...

To D.B.,

I am at a loss. I should obviously know who you are but it's not coming to mind. Give me a hint. I won't reveal your identity, I just need to know who this is to respond privately.

Mama said...

Kelly,

I'm so glad you wrote here again. I mean, call me lazy but I just don't feel like clicking back into my email accounts right now. I feel like now, I need to start writing down, in my blog, what has really started all of this, and be serious about it. Now that, you know, I'm not getting "hit", which is funny if it were not true, and then, still sounds funny.

I love this email from you. I totally agree with you, about dance. And you're right about westerners in general. THere's a real group that goes out just to dance, but even in the city it's hard to find that group that wants to dance from 10 p.m.-4 a.m. and likes their music loud and their drinks standing. Small towns harbor the sitters, who get up for one wild (they think) fling on the dance floor after downing a few beers. That sounded so condescending. I'm sure that to them, though, I am a freak. But, like you said, it's so different in some countries. In the middle east, women get together and dance in their houses (I've been invited to such a soire) and in Latin America...well, gotta love the Latin Americans. They dance sun up to sun down. Working on houses in the Dominican we wondered, the church people, why they were all so happy, these very, very, poor people with coffee cans stapled to the side of the house. And then we heard the music from the dance clubs every night. Of course, there were the baseball fields too. Dancing, beer, baseball...what more does the world need? Say hello to your family for me; I'm really thankful for your and their prayers. Also, thanks for the good word about being an artist. It's comforting to hear this from you. And I know you were uncomfortable sometimes when I used to tell you about things that were going on, and I wondered if we were just in 2 different places (well yes, but forever?) and I'm so glad you reached out. We were, what? 16 when we first met? fellow Libras? and you never forgot my birthday even though I could never remember yours. The business about the police van is weird. Shoot--be careful. I hope you get a really good lawyer because that sounds a little strange. What happened exactly?

Anonymous said...

Hi Cameo

b.a.c.o.n.

Don. Bra.

Mama said...

Donnie!

I'll check my email and write right away. Later tonight or tomorrow morning if I get tired tonight. Yeah...I need some frickin' help over here.

b.a.c.o.n...

haha, I thought it was code at first but now I'm laughing. Did you guys have a security camera or something? I can't hide anything from y'all.

Yes, things are really, really, weird and bad. couldn't sleep and can't sleep. Writing soon.