Dancing Kings (and Queens)

Tonight, I witnessed a transformation. I attended a dance show at the Cultural Center, put on by no other than Hanmin's 5th and 6th grade dance classes. It was phenomenal.

But let me just give you some background. This semester, I teach English to Hanmin's 6th grade dance class every Monday. Personally, I love that class; I know them for always being enthusiastic and for having the uniquely uniform makeup of 30 students, 15 girls and 15 boys, which makes splitting them up into teams absolutely ideal. But they are also known for being one of the most difficult classes of all to manage.

The girls are pretty good; many of them are quiet, and those who aren't are still respectful and fun in class. The boys, on the other hand, are a bit crazy. They volunteer regularly, which I appreciate, but it doesn't particularly matter if they've been called on or not. They're loud. And unruly. And, well, 6th grade boys.

Then came tonight. I knew, theoretically, that they were a ballroom dance class, but hearing that in passing is an entirely different thing than watching it in action. Because, in action, my rowdy, laughing 6th grade boys transformed into focused, near professional-caliber ballroom dancers, expertly interweaving with their female counterparts in waltzes, tangos, cha-chas, salsas, modern dances, swings and jives. They were amazing, especially when I held them up in juxtaposition to the English class version of themselves.

Don't get me wrong, the girls were phenomenal too, though I must say it's bracing to suddenly see all your 6th grade girls wearing dresses which are held together in the back by just a piece of string. (And, for that matter, it's equally shocking to see boys with shirts slit down to their navels.) But the girls were so heavily painted so with makeup (another shock) that I had a hard time recognizing them as they swirled around the stage. The boys, though also made-up and costumed, were at least recognizable--in appearance, anyway. In behavior, I would never have guessed.

I wish I had a video, or even some photos, to post here and show how my unruly dance class magically transformed into restrained and polished ballroom dancers. Unfortunately, though, no photography or video was allowed during the performance. Maggie and Alison told me they'll try to get me a copy of the professional video, and if I get it, I'll treasure it. After all, it proves that my gung-ho crazy kids can harness all that energy for good.

Not forever, though: as the curtain came down, two of my 6th grade boys slipped loose from their comrades and broke through the curtain, jumping and waving and getting in one last, unauthorized, personal curtain call, showing that even the fabulous transformation these dancing kings underwent can't last forever; they are still, at their cores, my wonderfully crazy 6th grade boys.

Rediscovering Kaohsiung

When I told Danny and Dan to come to Kaohsiung on Monday instead of Saturday (due to pending--and ultimately nullified--inclement weather), I was thinking that I would get out of class at noon, and then have the rest of the afternoon to show them Kaohsiung. Which just shows how clearly I was thinking at that point in time: I don't get out of class on Mondays until 3:00.

So I taught all day ("ng" and "nk," which the kids loved to imitate and to laugh at my demonstrations), then headed straight home, picked up Dan and Danny, and headed off to Cijin Island. It was surprisingly un-busy--the joys of going on a weeknight, rather than a weekend--and we sampled fruit juices, walked around the beach, and forced Danny to try some squid. (I also tried the roadside squid for the first time--another food to check off my list of things-to-try-in-Taiwan.) About halfway through our walk, right as the sun was setting, my camera battery died.

Which was a real shame. In addition to the sunset, we saw a horse. Just, you know, chilling by the side of the trail. It took us a while to figure out if it was a runaway or not, but eventually we figured out it was staked down by the path.

Which leads me to the question who takes a horse to Cijin, stakes it to the side of the path, and walks off? For that matter, who in the thriving urban setting of Kaohsiung owns a horse? And where?

Shortly thereafter, we headed back for the Cultural Center and grabbed a bite at Chialing's, which was, as always, delicious. Then it was back to the apartment to play poker and High 2, which Dan introduced to us.

And now I'm blogging, which, as you may be able to tell, I have no desire to be doing. But I'll be up again tomorrow, ready to go again with my packed schedule: school, then rediscovering Kaohsiung with friends!