Dancing with the Bullies

I love dancing! I love Latin dancing and since I got here I joined a gym that claimed it had cha-cha-cha and salsa lessons. So I joined. I also signed up for regular work out sessions on the machines and aerobics. It made sense, since I get bored too easily and having the variety was bound to help me stick to at least three different activities per week.
I should’ve known when the first sign of craziness lurked through – the trainer was surprised I sometimes was going backwards on the elliptical machine, he just raised his eyebrows, but I could tell he never saw that before. I brushed it off and kept on training.
The next incident happened right before my 30th birthday, so I was already on the verge of killing someone at the difficult times of short but unpleasant mid-life crisis, and so I went to the gym to relieve the stress from being getting too old. As I plugged the headphones into my ears I started my energizer bunny routine on the bike (those who have seen me exercise will confirm – I can eat but I can also spin those wheels!) I was doing pushups simultaneously, to save the time that is and was just reaching the necessary heart rate when the trainer came and said I should slow down or I will break the bike. I was a bit dizzy when he stopped me abruptly, I just reached the peak of the heart rate necessary to burn all that fat, and so I looked up at him all dazed and so this is my excuse I didn’t react properly to his comment because it simply didn’t register! But it hit me later, as it always does and I ended up being pissed off for the next couple of weeks.
Just as I thought I have overcome those two little incidents – another one occurred tonight. Ok, I acknowledge that not speaking the language enough can make things awkward, but not speaking the sixth language well does not make you stupid. I have been reluctant coming to Latin lessons because all the moves of the teacher and the class were so robotic, the music was fantastic, but they just didn’t get it. You know the feeling when you want something like a Bounty chocolate but all you can get is a fake? You still have the sweet taste in your mouth but you know it’s not the real deal. That’s how I feel every time I go dancing here. The music is so rhythmical and contagious, I can almost see the palm trees and taste the mojitos and feel the breeze from the ocean, but all they do is move their limbs as robots. I thought screw that, I am dancing! So as I was swaying my hips to the sounds of salsa music, (I couldn’t hold back anymore!) I saw they were smirking and laughing behind me! But we were in a room full of mirrors! Now that’s weird I thought, who would do that? And why is it funny? I’m not name dropping or anything but I’ve been learning dancing since school and then took lessons from Amador Lopez from Venezuela, is it not good for the local class? Then they must’ve seen JLo’s moves, oh wait a minute, she cancelled her concert in North Cyprus!
The smirks behind my back shocked me – I never felt like that even in the American high school, and you know teenagers can be cruel. I turned around and while continuing swinging my hips said in Turkish ‘very funny, ha-ha’. They all had bewildered looks on their faces like they had no idea why I was saying that, and that just made me feel even more disgusted. If you want to laugh at someone, then laugh in their face, or with them if you want to be nice. I can take a joke, I can laugh at myself, I have no problem with the sense of humor, but what I can’t take is laughing behind my back and pretending like nothing happened. The wife of the owner guiltily started protesting like she didn’t do anything and during the break she came up to me and said that I’ve lost weight. I said I did but not much and she never apologized and nobody ever mentioned the incident.
I am glad I spoke up. I am angry that I don’t have enough language to say to them what I think, but then I doubt it is the language issue after all.
I went home, took a nice shower and got to writing. I am glad to have you read my blog. Otherwise I’d just be talking in my head and that’s just crazy! I contemplated a little whether to write about this or not and then I thought “oh, what the heck, it is about life in Cyprus – sometimes you have good days, sometimes you meet bullies, but after all it is all an experience.”

Greetings from the Island of Love,
Your Tanka Lou