Crazy Gringos

It seems to me that I am an awful dancer. In fact, when I watch Peruvians dance it seems to me that most of us gringos lack rthym and agility on the dance floor. And when we get out there and try to bounce around to the delicate beats of salsa and merengue, we must look awfully silly. Well, that is at least what I thought until this weekend. Allow me to explain. Saturday afternoon, with the monkey in arms, Carmen, the next door neighbor made an invitation. "Do you want to go to a festival 2 hours away in a small town called ichocan? We will be back by dawn monday morning." After stopping to buy several different kinds of fruits and dulces, and stopping once to pick up a hitchhiker and once to drop him off, we arrived at the town of ichocan. We were now at 12,000 feet and it was pouring down rain. In fact, the rain did not stop until the next morning but that did not inhibit anyone. So I met the mayor and had a few drinks with him. I danced for hours in the pouring rain. There were 2 live bands and hundreds of people dancing in the streets. I danced normal for me but a little crazier. A little faster, a little more innovative. And the result? The result was complements and free drinks. I always laugh at myself when I dance and I assume every one else does as well. But here in Peru it seems as though they have a profound appreciation for the crazy gringos as long as they are truly crazy. Of course it crossed my mind that maybe they just felt sorry for me because I dance like an innebriated dog with only 3 legs, but that thought quickly left me. They bought me drinks, told me my dancing was bonito, lindo, other words that I probably do not understand. And at the end of the night (which never really ended), I thought to myself, crazy Peruvians. They truly think I dance bonito. They are truly crazy. So in the end we are all crazy. Crazy gringos and crazy Peruvians alike.