dance camp -- cha cha cha

Dance camp really was lovely this time around. Two committee members approached me to talk about the communications snafus with the housing, and that made me feel a lot better. They even offered us a partial refund, which I of course declined.

Our motel accommodations were quite comfortable and cheery. The people who run the motel are extra nice and we spent some time talking to them and rubbing their dog's belly.

A lot has happened at Camp Chimney Corners since we were last there. For one thing, the dining hall burned down and was replaced by a much grander, much more architecturally appropriate building, one that actually acknowledges that it is practically next to a scenic lake. Somewhere in there, they got a new cook and the food was good; the cooks were extremely attentive to vegetarians. They seem to make everything plain and put fixings on the side, so as to please everyone.

Our contra dance caller was Lisa Greenleaf, one of my all-time favorites. She talks a lot about how to make dancing a lot more fun for everyone, even if people are screwing up. She talks about how to be gentle with your partner and not cause pain, and she talks about how to react if you are feeling pained -- all good sensible advice, and great for building community. She gets new people up and dancing very quickly, while giving experienced folks fun, challenging, and smooth dances to work with. And she's great at helping an entire group get back on track when there's an inevitable "train wreck".

The English teacher, Michael Ciccone, is a gentle and sweet man and a great teacher. For the first time ever, I understood how to do "Cecil Sharpe siding" (sorry for the dance geek talk), but why can't other teachers make it that easy? For the first time ever, I stopped worrying about screwing up and felt like I was *dancing* English and being fairly elegant about it.

Our musicians were mostly great, though they came with a drummer who got a little -er- over enthusiastic at times. *He* was having a great time, but when he started banging on his drums really loudly and blowing his little street whistle, well, I'm sure my face wasn't pretty and smiley.

I did sit out a *few* dances during the weekend but found it difficult to just sit and watch. I felt like one of the most popular belles at the ball -- as soon as I'd sit down, someone would invite me to dance. It was all very flattering. A lot of people came up to me to tell me how much they appreciated hearing me laugh, also sweet.

One of the very fun new traditions was afternoon tea. This apparently started at the first west coast dance camp last spring, quickly spread to our spring east coast camp, and happened again this weekend. One of our esteemed members baked nearly 150 scones, made several pots of tea, and served it all with whipped cream and jam. It provided a nice time to sit, socialize, catch up with people, and relax a little. Just lovely.

I'm not sure I mentioned this story after last spring's camp, so I'll tell it again. I'm so moved by it. The west coast gender-role-free dance community started up just a few years ago. I remember talking to my friend, RR, who'd lived in NYC and had gone to the NY dances. He eventually moved west and didn't want to give up our special brand of dancing. I remember talking to him at a dance camp years ago about what it takes to run a dance, and he got a dance series going in San Francisco.

At the very first SF dance, two men, Mark and Tom, met each other and have been a couple ever since. They are really nice people, caring, energized, passionate. They were at the spring dance camp and came east again for the fall camp.

It turns out that RR's kidneys were failing. He became weaker and weaker and eventually had to stop working. He was undergoing dialysis fairly frequently but still managed to organize the dances. I heard that he organized the west coast dance camp primarily from bed.

Meanwhile, Mark had heard about RR's condition and heard that RR was hoping for a transplant. He felt sad, but basically thought the whole thing didn't concern him. Except that it kept coming back to him. He said that he started hearing about kidney disease and transplants all the time. Something kept tickling his brain until one day he realized that all those messages were meant for him and that he was meant to give RR one of his kidneys.

And so, this summer, he did just that. They're both recovering well. Tom reports that neither of them is completely back to their top-shelf self, BUT that it's as if RR has had new life breathed into him. Reports are that RR is revitalized, really quite literally.

As I say, I am so touched by this story. It's a hint of what the dance community is all about.