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| ESTONIA I finally worked up the nerve to take salsa lessons. But not at a dance studio in Cuba, the Dominican Republic or Puerto Rico. Strange though it may seem, I took my first tentative salsa steps in Estonia – the northernmost of the Baltic States.
Allow me to explain. Triinu Onton, a 21-year-old Estonian beauty, is a salsa lover. Such provocative dancing might have been unthinkable from 1944 to 1991 when the country endured a repressive occupation by the former Soviet Union. Had couples been caught dancing salsa during the 4-year occupation by Nazi Germany (1941 - 1944), they might have been arrested by Gestapo agents. But in 1991, when the yoke of communism lifted and Estonia gained its long-awaited independence, the country began to change. Estonian language and culture were no longer suppressed. Bananas, a previously unattainable fruit, suddenly appeared in local supermarkets. MTV began broadcasting. And on one fateful day nearly 7 years ago, Miguel Verdecia arrived in Tallinn, the capital. "I was working at the Eeslitall Hotel in Old Town when I first saw him," says Triinu.
So began Triinu's love affair. Not with Miguel (the Cuban dance instructor is married to a Finnish woman), but with salsa music, dance, and Latin culture. She took dance classes with Miguel and joined a local club for salsa devotees. She immersed herself in salsa music and practiced the dance steps relentlessly. She enrolled in a language course and learned to speak Spanish fluently, thanks in part to hours spent deciphering lyrics from hundreds of salsa tunes. And while other Estonian girls her age tripped to the latest techno music, Triinu danced the night away to the music of Los Van Van, one of Cuba's most prolific bands. Her favorite singer? Celia Cruz, the undisputed Queen of Salsa.
On the day of the concert Triinu ignored her doctor's orders and removed the metal leg brace she'd been forced to wear. She slipped into a sexy dress, rode the high-speed ferry across the Baltic Sea from Tallinn to Helsinki, and then limped into the auditorium to watch her idol perform. Inspired by sizzling salsa sounds belted out by the legendary singer and her band, Triinu danced all night on a knee that would soon require surgery. "It was worth it," she says. "I live to salsa." I first met Triinu during a visit to Tallinn two years ago. She immediately invited me to Club Havana, a restaurant/dance club where she had recently begun giving salsa lessons to fellow Estonians.
But during my current trip to Tallinn, I loosened up. With tropical murals on the interior walls, Cuban-themed Club Havana seems glaringly out of place among the 14th-century cathedrals and bell towers of Tallinn's renovated Old Town. I left the quiet cobblestone streets, stepped inside the club and into a powerful wave of salsa music that seemed to roll in from the faraway Caribbean. It was Friday night in the Baltics. Salsa Night! The club bulged with Tallinn's small but devoted Latin-loving crowd. While the few expert dancers twisted and turned expertly with their partners, a larger number of wannabes, me included, tried in vain to move our feet one, two, three, four; one, two, three, four; in tune to the scorching salsa beat.
Together the two salsa experts form "Miguel and Company," and conduct a series of "salsa nights" at Club Havana. Both men took turns at the D.J. booth. They would cue up a record, let it spin, and then leap onto the dance floor in perfect step with a conga line that might have been in San Juan or Santo Domingo, if not for the preponderance of blonde-haired, blue-eyed salsa dancers who spoke with Estonian accents. Triinu was good enough to spend a few moments assisting the salsa-challenged. She danced beside me, imploring me to follow her lead. But in the end, Miguel beckoned her to center stage and they showed everybody how salsa should be danced. As for Triinu's troubled knee? Judging by the hours she spent twirling on the dance floor, it seems to be working just fine. click here for more images of Estonia Next stop: Riga, Latvia. |
