Saturday, April 28, 2012

Danzaland is another themed weekend here in Lucca, Italy like biker safety, comics, gardening, and granny underpants day. Okay omit the last one. Anyway, for Danzaland all these different dance schools put up stages under tents and put on exhibitions or you can pay an exorbitant sum to join in. The general tone of the event is: "Don't you wish you could be like us real dancers? Well, you can't! Even if you sign up to go to our school we doubt that you could ever master these steps and be as cool as we are." I mean why could it not have been a free event? Why make access to the actual dancing so difficult? No one was going to do something illegal -- like feed one of them or anything.

We were late to the first event because the map said Santa Maria but they did not mean the Porta of Santa Maria, which is one of the arched entrances through the walls of Lucca into town, but the Baluardo of Santa Maria, which, confusingly enough, is one of the terraces on the wall itself and which is 180 degrees in the wrong direction from its name twin and a fifteen minute's walk. It was 85 degrees today so we were glowy by the time we got there. F pointed out that they probably would start late, being Italian and all, and that if they wacked it for too long, it would probably fall off.

Our ever observant F also noted that every genre of dance had two male dancers. It must be some Italian law we don't know about. I am so glad I did NOT shell out 32 euros for the vogue wacking class. The teacher's only equipment were her freakishly long arms and her makeup blotting fazzoletti. It was more wack than vogue:

Passing by all the cool hip hop style people around town today and making the unavoidable comparisons, F commented: At least my pants are drooping.

The flamenco dancers were very nice. When I have a spare hundred hours I want to learn how to roll my wrists and fingers like that.

The American Musical dance teacher was adorable what with his enviable command of Italian grammar, theatrical flare, and horrible, horrible Italian accent:

 And here - wait for it - is some good old Italian country line dancing. Cowboy hats included y'all.

The real action today was at the Tenzenis store on the main shopping street where bras/reggiseni were on sale for only 5 euro and latin Zumba music pounded through the speaker system. Every Lucchese woman in the know was there and the line was a mile long. I got mine and lined up the hangers and had exact change. Jealous?

There was also a display of the tiniest car I have ever seen in my life. Even I could probably drive that thing and park it.

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