Learning to salsa in Cuba

Finishing the last bite of papaya with my eye on the clock, I snatched my purse off the bed and dash out the door. I was in Havana and on my way to take my very first salsa lesson! 

As I arrive at the dance studio, salsa music floats through the air. I pass by small rooms with clients sweating profusely as they learn salsa secrets. 
If you could squeeze the air, drops of sensuality would drip out of it. It was hot and humid, like usual. It seemed fitting. 
I meet my instructor, a 25 year old Cuban. He's short and fit with a mellow demeanor. He introduces himself as Adrienne. 

 I was a good foot taller than him. This is nothing unusual in the world of Rachel.
He shows me to our personal studio and we get down to business. 
He says there are 7 steps in salsa and he would be teaching me 4 of them that day. 
We start off by standing side by side.  I watch my footwork in the mirror as I try to ingrain the steps into my memory bank. 
Next, we practice the step together. 

He flips on the small CD player on the little wooden table. 
A Latino accented voice, mixed with an upbeat salsa tune, blares from the speaker. The man on the recorder repeats "uno, dos, tres, quatro"
Adrienne slips his hands in mine as our feet move to the rhythm. 
I feel a bit shy and uncomfortable being so intimately close to a stranger. My personal space is being violated! The room suddenly felt hotter. My body becomes rigid. He senses this and tells me to act natural. 

I tell him I've never salsa'd before and that I was kinda clumsy. 
He speaks little English, so I rely on my Spanish skills. 
He teaches me all 4 steps within 20 minutes. First we practice the step side-by-side, then we do it together. 
I picked up on them quickly. 
Taking my hands in his, he barks out orders, "step 1.... step 3..... now step 2!" He puts my memory to the test, jumping from one step to the next. I keep up and follow his lead, switching patterns effortlessly. The basics were coming easy to me. Perhaps I have a future as a salsa dancer?

After testing my knowledge, seeing if I faltered from his lightening quick footwork changes, he stops and takes a step back. In Spanish, he exclaims "you're very intelligent."
I guess I'm pretty good for my first time. 
He's pleased with the progress we're making and decides to teach me all 7 steps. 
I obediently follow his instructions, concentrating closely. 
"uno, dos, tres, quatro...."
After breezing through all 7 steps, we move on to bigger things: spins!

I got excited, this is what I pictured salsa to be. He says it's pertinent that our bodies are close. 
I follow his lead. I didn't feel like Adrienne was putting the moves on me, he was very professional. 

We swiveled our hips for 2 hours straight, stopping only to guzzle water. 
At the end of the lesson, I thanked Adrienne for showing me his slick skills, then watched the professionals tear up the dance floor in the front room before leaving the studio. 

The experienced sultry dancers floated around the floor, using what had to have been ESP to know each other's next move. They were the perfect compliment to each other. 
"Whoa, I have a long ways to go", I thought. 
But everyone has to start at the bottom. 
My brain really got a workout that day, trying to learn the moves while also translating everything Adrienne was saying. 

My first salsa class was a success. I'll check that off my bucket list.....