Returning to the flamenco studio I am excited to restart.
I find a seat on the steps in the audience. On either side of me, I place a white sock so that I can demarcate my space. Others come and settle down next to me. So I walk up the steps, to see if the view is better there.
I am dressed in a white cotton frilled shirt, my black, high waist pants and the flamenco boots with the high heels and pointed toes. They clack on the wooden floor as I walk. I am sporting a good 2 days stubble.
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I feel very much the part.
More than when I used to go to the dance studio.
Before the show starts I walk down to go to the restroom. In the background I hear the Llamada.
My teacher, Belén, is standing by the water fountain, and I am proud to see her again.
And when I return, the rest of the dancers are already on.
They gather menacingly at the rear of the stage, backs to the audience, crowded together in a tight circle, practiced heels stomping to the bulerías.
It is going to be great, being back.
I decide against my original seat and sit further to the front, closer.
Photo by Amir Appel via Pxhere
