I made the promise before I left: I perform in Prague or I leave. Once transplanted, same promise. Wash, rinse, repeat.
Upon arriving, I had no idea where to even start looking. The simplest route seemed to get into a dance studio and then look from there. I googled studios and came up empty, then spent an entire evening trying to find one studio but by the time I did, all was dark and still (by the by, directions in Prague are a new kind of challenging-- google has been knocked off its pedestal...).
However, there is always one threshold upon which one can hope in the name of dance: Lindy-hop. No matter where you are in this wide world, there's a swing scene calling your name. Sure enough, Prague's meets at a local cafe once a week. Some chums and I made our way out and discovered a small but very talented group of dancers.
This was my first swing dancing experience where I didn't share a common language with the leads. When one asked me a question in Czech, I pulled out one of the first phrases I learned: nemluvím česky (I don't speak Czech).
"Ah!" he said, then continued in English, "but you dance in Czech?"
I told him of course, and who doesn't?
Beautiful thing about dancing-- if you lead, I can follow. Forget language.
I just now realized how many things have literally dropped in my lap since I got here. It took me ages to find a studio in Seattle. Running up to swing dancing here one night, a sign for a studio caught my attention and there, in the same building, was the very place I'd been searching for. It offered everything and I was soon enrolled in ballet, jazz, street dance and R&B. Just to let you know, those last two are more foreign to me than the Czech language. I get ballet-- it's controlled, everything from the top of your head to your little toe is carefully placed and strained in the most painful fashion (no exaggeration, I once had an instructor bend down and re-tie my slipper because my toe didn't seem to be landing right). In R&B, you're supposed to 'just dance' and lay the choreography down over the top. Hello fright-- I joined the class because I don't know how to 'just dance.'
The classes are in Czech, but my instructors are so expressive I have no problem understanding. And sometimes I think it's helpful to not understand words. My worst enemy in dance is generally my own brain, over-thinking the simplest thing.
Now for the exception: ballet. I'm used to ballet being littered with French, but Czech littered with French from instructors who are astutely inexpressive and have totally different patterns and routines....wow. I've danced on both coasts in the States, but the rules and warm-up are generally the same. Not so here. Plus, it's really easy to damage your body in ballet, so I've been taught not to do things like force your turn out. Again, not so here. Ballet is a beast to begin with. Translate it into Czech and it's downright terrifying.
But a couple of months in, the instructors are getting to know me and I'm loving them. The best part of my day is stepping into a studio and jumping headfirst into styles of dance I really thought I just wasn't cut out for. Who knew this white chick from the states could actually pull off R&B?! Well, maybe I can't, but it's a good go for trying :)
A few last random thoughts. One, Netflix doesn't stream in the Czech Republic and Hulu is forbidden. I have no idea what people in the States are talking about when it comes to TV or movies.
Two, all websites default to their Czech counterparts. Ergo, spell checking this blog, every English word is highlighted because it can't be found in the Czech dictionary.
Three, an English friend dropped a beat the other night and then called for a friend to "rap, rap!" only it sounded like "rop, rop!" But I can't laugh too much. In the states I was told I could pull off a decent English accent, but I tried it out and sent the Brits within earshot into uncontrollable fits of laughter. I fear the worst.
Upon arriving, I had no idea where to even start looking. The simplest route seemed to get into a dance studio and then look from there. I googled studios and came up empty, then spent an entire evening trying to find one studio but by the time I did, all was dark and still (by the by, directions in Prague are a new kind of challenging-- google has been knocked off its pedestal...).
However, there is always one threshold upon which one can hope in the name of dance: Lindy-hop. No matter where you are in this wide world, there's a swing scene calling your name. Sure enough, Prague's meets at a local cafe once a week. Some chums and I made our way out and discovered a small but very talented group of dancers.
This was my first swing dancing experience where I didn't share a common language with the leads. When one asked me a question in Czech, I pulled out one of the first phrases I learned: nemluvím česky (I don't speak Czech).
"Ah!" he said, then continued in English, "but you dance in Czech?"
I told him of course, and who doesn't?
Beautiful thing about dancing-- if you lead, I can follow. Forget language.
I just now realized how many things have literally dropped in my lap since I got here. It took me ages to find a studio in Seattle. Running up to swing dancing here one night, a sign for a studio caught my attention and there, in the same building, was the very place I'd been searching for. It offered everything and I was soon enrolled in ballet, jazz, street dance and R&B. Just to let you know, those last two are more foreign to me than the Czech language. I get ballet-- it's controlled, everything from the top of your head to your little toe is carefully placed and strained in the most painful fashion (no exaggeration, I once had an instructor bend down and re-tie my slipper because my toe didn't seem to be landing right). In R&B, you're supposed to 'just dance' and lay the choreography down over the top. Hello fright-- I joined the class because I don't know how to 'just dance.'
The classes are in Czech, but my instructors are so expressive I have no problem understanding. And sometimes I think it's helpful to not understand words. My worst enemy in dance is generally my own brain, over-thinking the simplest thing.
Now for the exception: ballet. I'm used to ballet being littered with French, but Czech littered with French from instructors who are astutely inexpressive and have totally different patterns and routines....wow. I've danced on both coasts in the States, but the rules and warm-up are generally the same. Not so here. Plus, it's really easy to damage your body in ballet, so I've been taught not to do things like force your turn out. Again, not so here. Ballet is a beast to begin with. Translate it into Czech and it's downright terrifying.
But a couple of months in, the instructors are getting to know me and I'm loving them. The best part of my day is stepping into a studio and jumping headfirst into styles of dance I really thought I just wasn't cut out for. Who knew this white chick from the states could actually pull off R&B?! Well, maybe I can't, but it's a good go for trying :)
A few last random thoughts. One, Netflix doesn't stream in the Czech Republic and Hulu is forbidden. I have no idea what people in the States are talking about when it comes to TV or movies.
Two, all websites default to their Czech counterparts. Ergo, spell checking this blog, every English word is highlighted because it can't be found in the Czech dictionary.
Three, an English friend dropped a beat the other night and then called for a friend to "rap, rap!" only it sounded like "rop, rop!" But I can't laugh too much. In the states I was told I could pull off a decent English accent, but I tried it out and sent the Brits within earshot into uncontrollable fits of laughter. I fear the worst.
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