Salsa-Dancing with Peruvians

Last weekend, due to A.'s organizing skills, a group of us took over a table at a Peruvian Salsa Party. We were an international table representing different regions of Brazil in addition to Uruguay, El Salvador, the United States and I do believe that Samosa was the first Pakistani ever to grace their halls.

There was yummy food (even for a vegetarian such as myself!). A little group singing in honor of International Women's Day. A performance of traditional Peruvian dancing.

Then a live band and a jam-packed dance floor (you know you're not in the US of A, when it takes a mere 30 seconds after the band starts playing for the dance floor to fill up).

I had to take it easy on the dancing (yes, yes, eventually I will stop talking about the after-effects of this lung-scarring pneumonia), but that was okay. I was just so happy that Samosa would get to meet many of the people in my life here in Porto Alegre, who are helping make the city a beautiful place:

A.'s father (who lives on the 3rd floor of her apartment complex) and his companion T. about to show us how elegantly salsa-dancing can be done. T. used some of her Reiki training on me a few days earlier and helped me stop being so frustrated about pneumonia and just relax a little bit.

I. & O., who live right around the corner, are super sweet, have great taste in music, and first introduced me to the delights of fried polenta. We even got the pleasure of watching them dancing a little samba together!

N. & A. who live in the happening neighborhood of Cidade Baixa and yes, are such sweet people. Of the rival Porto Alegre soccer teams, they're on the side of Inter.

N. went out of his way to find some soccer tickets for us, but the only game going on was being played by Grêmio (the other team). We asked if he'd like to come with us (this was before I got diagnosed with pneumonia and couldn't go). "I'm not allowed," N. said. "Not allowed?!" I asked. "No, no," he said, "I can't go to their game. It's not my beach." I'm translating literally because I just like that line, "Not my beach."

And then we have the lovely C. on the right, who I first met while enjoying some tasty Uruguayan pizza (who knew Uruguayans had a hold on the pizza market?). C.'s just got this wonderfully relaxing energy that's so great to be around. And the fabulous, ever-generous A. who (with Cipote) has opened her home to me and has helped me through so many varied situations that I will be forever grateful.

And here is brightly-shining Estrela who I got to meet last fall in Austin, Texas and her elegant mother. Estrela is awesome, has always been up for showing me around the city and gave Samosa and I an important lesson in how to make chimarrão. Estrela's mother reminds me how much I love the Spanish language and also happens to make a really delicious eggplant dish.

And here is the American and the Pakistani. You can note the strangeness of the American by the yellow balloons she has chosen to wear in her hair and her odd facial expression. The Pakistani is transcending language barriers ("You don't speak Portuguese?...How about Spanish?...Uh no, no Spanish either?...Um...well we can smile at each other then!) by just drinking in all the good vibes and energy of the party.