There appear to be a variety of choices around the city and picking another one to try felt kind of like a random stab in the dark. I ended up at CNRTO (Centre National des Recherche sur Tradition Orale) which is a gem of a building in Cocody.
The name alone holds promise and despite my inital (unsuccessful) efforts to find out more details about the purpose of the center, a quick online search turned up this quote buried in a report from the ONU:
Cet institut dispose d’une documentation (transcription et traduction des
enregistrements) sur les contes, les proverbes, la musique traditionnelle, le
langage tambouriné, la parole des masques. On y trouve également des documents
audiovisuels, des photos, des diaporamas, des films documentaires, des bandes
magnétiques enregistrées et mises en fiches.
The 2 story building has a majestic entrance, grand columns and round staircases. The studio is upstairs and the walls are lined with doorways which open to allow the cool breezes to flow through. It's like dancing on a rooftop. A small balcony surrounds the meeting area and a veranda leads off to the front, creating another small space where dancers can meet, try out steps or just observe the class.
There were about 20 people in attendance, and, remarkably, enough guys to create 10 equal couples. We changed partners often which gave me the experience of dancing with someone other than my love (something I really haven't done much of in the world of salsa.)
The class was no beginner class and I was happily surprised to see I kept up with the constant addition of steps. I believe in dancing with as many different teachers as possible in order to maximize one's experience. However, my past experience with salsa has been limited to one teacher and so I've often wondered if I could really dance. Turns out I can. Well enough, anyway. To be certain, I am no professional but apparently my base is solid.
Everything dance reminds me of Christian and because of that I found the class lacking that magnetic energy and draw he seems to effortlessly exude. In reality, the class was great. The last 10 minutes or so were given over to dancing 'comme tu veux' and this gave me a chance to do some freestyle- well, as the woman it gave me a chance to see if I could follow the lead. I do have a tendancy to lean towards control and in salsa, it just doesn't happen that way. I am forever working up to dancing impromptu and this class seems like it will give me a chance to get comfortable enough to go out for a dance evening. (Oh my childhood issues that get in the way of fun. Do we ever get over them?)
I am always amazed at the power of physical memory and sure enough, a few of the leads had me anticipating a movement that wasn't forthcoming. I've got most of Christian's routines down but in salsa dance, you follow the male (have I mentioned that? It's definitely something I am working on) and so in a few cases my follow through was not quite what it was meant to be. In one horrifying moment, I found myself taking the lead and kind of forcing the hand of my partner, which we laughed about and I apologized profusely for. It's all in good fun, however and he wasn't as mortified as I.
There are always good lessons to be learned in the world of art. My dance and music classes continue to provide metaphors for skills I could benefit from in my day to day. Trusting others to take the lead at times is one of them. On a contrary note, I have been taking drum classes- the doundoun- which serves as the base in African dance and drum. I have been in the middle of more than one class wondering how it is I came to this particular instrument. Really I've been infatuated with drumming since I was ten, that part is no surprise.The surprise is that in playing this instrument, one must maintain a steady, dependable tempo for the duration of the song. I am usually good for the first few minutes but inevitably when the djembe gets going I am distracted and falter. Another metaphor for life.
How often do the rhythms and dreams and actions of others distract me from my own path? I have been thinking lately that life in Abidjan is ok, it's good enough. It could be enjoyable in that calm and steadying way of family life and weekend barbecues. But I have never been really good at calm and steadying. I know passion and upheaval, change and turbulence. Longing and unfulfilled desire. Maybe it's time to change the story. Words from a beloved, and newly reunited, relative coming back to impact my current situation.
Although extenuating circumstances have taken the choice out of my decision to stay in Abidjan, I am thrilled to be in a place that honors the arts. Just when I am thinking it might be the French influence, I remember Nabih's history book and its outline of government in the village. One diagram showed the griot as having a prominent place just below the chief. To see the keeper of stories and histories and tradition given such an important position is comforting. Arts are healing. They are neccessary to the vibrancy and continued health of a people.
It seems Abidjan has more than one lesson to offer and I, ever the willing student, am ready to learn.
