It's September, so let's do a little first day of school, getting-to-know-eachother activity. I'm actually not kidding about that. People have been inquiring about my 'flamenco journey' so below I tell you how it began for me. (Later, why not tell me how you became interested in flamenco?)
My Introduction to Flamenco
I was a junior in college. I was struggling through Spanish class.
The professor spoke only in español which basically left me feeling like a Charlie Brown character being mwoah mwoah mwoahed at for hours upon end.
Every day we would watch this educational novela, answer questions related to the day's episode, and then "discuss" it. I rarely knew what was going on.
As you may have gathered, I did not particularly enjoy the class. While I constantly felt confused, behind, and overwhelmed, I am full of gratitude for the experience,
You see, had it not been for this class, I'm not sure I would be dancing flamenco today.
Here's what happened
Writing saved me in Jerez, ... And then it got in the way.
Today I want to talk about how writing can become, well, detrimental in class.
I'll begin with another excerpt from my notebook:
April 19, 2011
Mercedes scolded me once again in class this morning, calling me back out onto the dance floor. Clearly I was to be dancing, not writing.
Yes, once again, Laura and her book has come up. It comes up a lot. No one else writes anything down in Jerez.
They don't get me, I know, but I totally don't get them either!
This week, since I am in Málaga, verdiales and a video.
Hojita de limón verde
y flor blanca de azahar…
sale mi niña a bailar,
y un rayo de sol se prende
en sus enaguas bordás.