Thursday, April 14, 2005

Cha Cha Chi

I wish I was could do normal things, like touch my toes. It’s like I have rigor mortis or something, without all the decomposing and living in the ground. I can barely reach my shins. What’s up with that? If I was morbidly obese, then I’d have an excuse, but really I have none. High-set hips?

A friend suggested I try yoga. He says it helps flexibility, relaxation, inner-peace and whatnot. “Hell no,” was my reply. I’ve seen what yoga is all about -- a lot of bending in freaky positions named after animals. But then I found this DVD called “Yoga for Inflexible People.” Wow, that’s me, I thought. How did they know?

I’m happy to say that the DVD is now collecting dust. About the only position I could handle was the “mountain pose” (which involved standing up straight, no bending whatsoever). Everything else was just bothersome and/or painful. Screw Yoga.

So then I tried Tai-chi. A guy at my work is teaching classes for free. We did a lot of stretching, which wasn’t so bad. Then he had us go through all these positions named after monkeys. Long story short: I can’t tell my yin from my yang, no matter how many times he says to suck in the yin and blow out the yang. What does that even mean?

And now I got suckered into dance lessons, once more at the prodding of a friend (it’s like I can’t make my own decisions). They’re taught at a dance studio with two other couples, so we get individual attention, which helps. We learned the cha-cha this week, and thankfully I was able to handle it just fine, despite having to swing my hips around like a desperate hooker.

When I was studying in Senegal, everyone danced, all the time. If you didn’t dance, you were either crippled or white. I’m the latter, and so I would do my best when people in the markets would start banging on pots and a large woman would grab me and expect me to fling my arms and legs about in some semblance of rhythm. You wouldn’t believe how those people can fling their limbs! Forget the cha-cha-cha, forget the yang, forget the chi, that kind of dancing was FUN. I miss Africa.

5 comments:

NARDAC said...

I can't touch my toes either, but somehow I get more flexible after working with some devil juice and flinging limbs around. I'm not even sure you need to leave the house to do that.

*ahem... none of this is supposed to have sordid undertones... was just talking about rocking out while cleaning the floor...

Kim said...

When sitting on the floor with my legs straight out in front of me I use to be able to touch my head to my knees. My hamstrings are too tight now though. I can, however, put my foot behind my head. It's a great party trick.

(Like nardac that also wasn't supposed to have any sordid undertones. I think any talk of stretching or flinging limbs is going to sound a bit naughty.)

Cindy-Lou said...

Hey, we're going dancing on Saturday. Come along and I'll promise you all the limb-flinging you can handle.

Jer said...

N: You never have to leave the house to fling your limbs about...I can attest to that.

K: If you can do that, in my book you are a bloody contortionist.

CL: Would that I could -- but I was birthday-partying this weekend, and also there's that whole "I have no idea were you live" thing.

grace said...

i am totally inflexible. it sucks.

i try, though. :P