I found out the other day, to my horror, that Korea has no recorded history of partner dancing. While there's a rich tradition of court dances, fan dances, and some pretty intense folk dances - boys and girls touching each other is strictly a no-no. And among all but the youngest generations, it still sort of is.To help me wrap my head around this, my friend Sara introduced me the other night to Seoul's fledgling underground salsa scene.
Of course, the emphasis on mastery of study in Korea is ancient; sometimes it feels like they'd rather just not do something than do it imperfectly. And so the Koreans tend to avoid the sweaty, crowded dives in Itaewon (full of actual latino people), where folks improvise and a girl's liable to get thrown around, and instead set up their own ballroom-style salsa circuit in Hongdae.
Indeed, every detail seems accounted for - the dancers in red and black, sporting flat-bottomed shoes and dance heels, the complex combinations flawless; the spins and the dips, the flourish of the wrist, uninterrupted, smooth, and confident.
Sara describes dancing here as primarily a numbers game, with entire songs sometimes choreographed in sequence, nearly eliminating the need to lead. Having grown up around salsa culture I feel a pang of possessiveness. This just isn’t right. Where is the flush of surprise on their faces?, the cries of laughter? They all have the poise of a popsicle stick and nobody's even drunk - salsa done too well is just overdone.
And yet, looking out at the dance floor I see the glistening and flushed faces of a people for whom public physical abandon with the opposite sex is still so new. And who, without realizing it, are re-interpreting the dance to make it their own.
Later that night, in a dark hip-hop club, under laser lights, pulsing electronic wallpaper, and enormous sculptures of spiders and insects, the DJ, center stage, lets loose another beat for the crowd to dance to.
... to line dance to that is. Trying hard to keep up (and remain facing forward), I and the room full of club-goers, step, punch, bodyroll and crunk in unison. For the umpteenth time today I laugh and think to myself, “What the hell is going on here?”
P.S. - while 살사 is the Koreanization for 'salsa', 살서 (which sounds the same in English) means diahrea (cha cha cha)
3 comments:
jajajajajaja
another delightful blogpost from senor hockday. the first part was a little too highbrow (written for the new york times travel section), i prefer the humor of the post script. keep 'em coming bro. and toilet humor is always encouraged
Hey, ya estaba echando de menos tus comentarios y apreciaciones de tu visita... que culturas tan diferentes, que maneras mas distintas de expresarse y de sentir a las que nosotros estamos acostumbrados, verdad? Me parece interesante saber que ellos estan cambiando su manera de ser y de actuar, sin embargo, me da pena que se pierda lo autentico de cada cultura y que en un futuro todos seamos iguales. Besos,
Haha, "nobody's even drunk." Actually there used to be a bar around Dongdaemun that tried latin night, but eventually they kicked all the dancers out because all they'd buy was water.
Seeing your perspective on my daily life is always interesting.
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