There is no denying the presence of salsa in Delft. From Mondays at the TU Cultural Centre and Sundays at Speakers, to this month’s big party at the TU Sports Centre, salsa is hot! An insider looks at the underground salsa scene in Delft and beyond.
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It always starts with an email. That’s how we decide to meet up. Someone spots a Salsa party somewhere and sends everyone a message. It’s usually Kees-Jan, but not this time. Which is weird, because 15,725 emails later, he has become the spiritual leader of our club. Not a week passes without my inbox screaming for attention: Salsa party in Leiden! Workshop in Den Haag! A new website: www.salsastudents.nl!
On Melissa’s initiative, we all went to the ‘Salsa Under The Bridge’ party. The Erasmus bridge, that is. Enter the club, and there’s no ’typical’ salsero to be found. You got the African guy dancers who seem to feel the rhythm at their very own pace – slowly, but never missing a beat – they just take-their-time. And their lady partners know they’re in for some sensual moving.
Asians have a very different approach to salsa. Did you know that Bruce Lee was constantly told by his directors to slow down, because the camera couldn’t catch his moves on film? There is a fine line between martial arts and salsa: if crossed, you can expect a pretty irritated dance partner. Some think of dancing as a combo of moves that not only need to be performed as fast as possible, but preferably without smiling – at all. But that, you see, could distract from the higher purpose of showing off!
And then you got our Latino friends. High heels for the ladies, slim-fitting shirts for the chicos. No need for details here, we’ve all seen the drum beats command their every limb in what can only be described as a salsa-machines on auto-pilot. The problem with salsa is you can’t learn by watching from the sidelines. This is something our Dutch natives understood long ago. Don’t think salsa has remained terra incognita in Holland. Behind soundproof walls and innocuous doors, the Dutch have been catching on to this mating ritual as fast as they were discreet. Who saw salsa coming? From Cuba and New York to TU Delft’s Cultural Centre, salsa’s presence cannot be denied!
Salsa students
This is where our Salsa teachers Jan and Vivian come into play. We salsa students have all wondered at some point during class: ‘are they dating each other?’ The answer seems to be buried deep under Jan’s mysterious smile and Vivian’s lady styling. But I’m offering 50 bucks to anyone who can provide more information on the subject! One thing for sure is that there’s plenty of chemistry between our teachers and they have big plans for us, which we discussed in the train on our way to Rotterdam. From weekly parties (Thursday 13 April at the Sports Centre) to creating a Salsa society and exchange trips to Barcelona, there’s no stopping them. In between all that, Viv and Jan still find time to give us lessons every Monday and to go out dancing with us on the weekends.
We come together at night on the platforms of Delft Central Station. There’s definitely an underground vibe to it all. The first rule of the Salsa Club is: if this is your first night out, you have to dance. By day, you might see us walking the streets like your average Joe. We pass our tests, pay our bills, and struggle with alarms not going off (commonly referred to as oversleeping). But then night comes. People amble in; whispers of mounting anticipation can be heard. Sporadic signs of recognition are sent across the room while the live band tunes its instruments. And then the music commences. A cacophony for the senses, the rhythm creeping into your body, and suddenly you’re dancing. Communicating. Every push and pull and twist and turn and shake and flirt…is an unspoken conversation between two bodies. From the sidelines you would see a dance floor full of people who for the length of a catchy song are completely carefree. And since there’s always another song coming, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. But then again, you shouldn’t be standing on the sideline.
2.36 a.m., my clothes are drenched in sweat and I’m standing at the club’s exit, waiting for my coat. The girl on my right says to the coatroom clerk, “Can I have my ticket back, there’s a phone number written on it?” The bar turns out the lights but the flirting doesn’t stop. The music stops, but I’m still dancing on my way out the door.
Salsa Party, April 13, TU Sports Centre Cafe, 21:30-01.30. Free workshop for beginners at 20:30. Tickets: 6€ presale at TU Cultural Centre; 8 euro at the door.
(Photo: courtesy of Tal Benisty)
www.snc.tudelft.nl
It always starts with an email. That’s how we decide to meet up. Someone spots a Salsa party somewhere and sends everyone a message. It’s usually Kees-Jan, but not this time. Which is weird, because 15,725 emails later, he has become the spiritual leader of our club. Not a week passes without my inbox screaming for attention: Salsa party in Leiden! Workshop in Den Haag! A new website: www.salsastudents.nl!
On Melissa’s initiative, we all went to the ‘Salsa Under The Bridge’ party. The Erasmus bridge, that is. Enter the club, and there’s no ’typical’ salsero to be found. You got the African guy dancers who seem to feel the rhythm at their very own pace – slowly, but never missing a beat – they just take-their-time. And their lady partners know they’re in for some sensual moving.
Asians have a very different approach to salsa. Did you know that Bruce Lee was constantly told by his directors to slow down, because the camera couldn’t catch his moves on film? There is a fine line between martial arts and salsa: if crossed, you can expect a pretty irritated dance partner. Some think of dancing as a combo of moves that not only need to be performed as fast as possible, but preferably without smiling – at all. But that, you see, could distract from the higher purpose of showing off!
And then you got our Latino friends. High heels for the ladies, slim-fitting shirts for the chicos. No need for details here, we’ve all seen the drum beats command their every limb in what can only be described as a salsa-machines on auto-pilot. The problem with salsa is you can’t learn by watching from the sidelines. This is something our Dutch natives understood long ago. Don’t think salsa has remained terra incognita in Holland. Behind soundproof walls and innocuous doors, the Dutch have been catching on to this mating ritual as fast as they were discreet. Who saw salsa coming? From Cuba and New York to TU Delft’s Cultural Centre, salsa’s presence cannot be denied!
Salsa students
This is where our Salsa teachers Jan and Vivian come into play. We salsa students have all wondered at some point during class: ‘are they dating each other?’ The answer seems to be buried deep under Jan’s mysterious smile and Vivian’s lady styling. But I’m offering 50 bucks to anyone who can provide more information on the subject! One thing for sure is that there’s plenty of chemistry between our teachers and they have big plans for us, which we discussed in the train on our way to Rotterdam. From weekly parties (Thursday 13 April at the Sports Centre) to creating a Salsa society and exchange trips to Barcelona, there’s no stopping them. In between all that, Viv and Jan still find time to give us lessons every Monday and to go out dancing with us on the weekends.
We come together at night on the platforms of Delft Central Station. There’s definitely an underground vibe to it all. The first rule of the Salsa Club is: if this is your first night out, you have to dance. By day, you might see us walking the streets like your average Joe. We pass our tests, pay our bills, and struggle with alarms not going off (commonly referred to as oversleeping). But then night comes. People amble in; whispers of mounting anticipation can be heard. Sporadic signs of recognition are sent across the room while the live band tunes its instruments. And then the music commences. A cacophony for the senses, the rhythm creeping into your body, and suddenly you’re dancing. Communicating. Every push and pull and twist and turn and shake and flirt…is an unspoken conversation between two bodies. From the sidelines you would see a dance floor full of people who for the length of a catchy song are completely carefree. And since there’s always another song coming, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. But then again, you shouldn’t be standing on the sideline.
2.36 a.m., my clothes are drenched in sweat and I’m standing at the club’s exit, waiting for my coat. The girl on my right says to the coatroom clerk, “Can I have my ticket back, there’s a phone number written on it?” The bar turns out the lights but the flirting doesn’t stop. The music stops, but I’m still dancing on my way out the door.
Salsa Party, April 13, TU Sports Centre Cafe, 21:30-01.30. Free workshop for beginners at 20:30. Tickets: 6€ presale at TU Cultural Centre; 8 euro at the door.
(Photo: courtesy of Tal Benisty)
www.snc.tudelft.nl
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