Swing Tallinn

Ok, what am I doing in Estonia? Am I here because I have a lifelong desire to help children, to work with the (formerly oppressive) Russian minority, to see the beauty and splendor of the Baltics?

No, not really.

I took a work camp to save money, and I came to Estonia for exactly three reasons, listed by priority.
1. The camp was in a big city, not the wilderness like most others.
2. I've never been to Estonia.
3. Mike and Laura mentioned something about Swing dancers in Tallinn.

Now, with full respect to all my swing buddies, I have always felt that while I am very passionate about my dancing, it has not yet had much if any impact on my larger life choices, such as where I will live, what job I will take, etc. So this is kind of special, and while the Tallinn swing scene may not be party-central, after a month of no dancing whatsoever and very little direct contact with anyone, Tallinn became a Lindy oasis. In fact, I danced more in Tallinn in one week than I had danced in Texas in my last month. seriously.

So here's the low-down. Laura hooked me up with some contact information for a local Swing head honcho, who then gave me the details of their final dance of the season (they take summers off), and I said that I would try to make it. I then began inviting some of my fellow volunteers, and was quite surprised that virtually all of them were not only curious, but rather excited about going. This of course made me nervous, because I had no idea what to expect, much less promise them in advance.

So last Tuesday we set off in search of a small dance studio south of Old Town and after a few turns and an inconveniently cancelled bus route, we timidly stepped into a dance studio-turned-Sauna. We were greeted by a room full of dancers and expectations, or maybe just expectant dancers. Apparently, just using Mike and Laura as a reference was enough to elevate me to guest teacher status, and I was very shortly put in charge of organizing lessons for the evening. Now this may seem uncomfortable and awkward, especially since I speak only English and had 6 brand new follows in tow, but hey, I love teaching, and after all the talk-up I gave my friends about how great Lindy was as a dance, and how open lindy hoppers were as people, I sure as hell wasn't going to let this evening fizzle.

So lessons went well (I did the 'ole pop-turn with variations lesson), and the dancers were both very satisfied, and quite competent. We broke into social dance, and all was well from there. The Estonians were very curious about how their dancing might differ from the states, but let me say for the record: it doesn't. They're dealing with a small scene in a frankly very small city, with limited if any outside exposure. It's actually very impressive. As for differences, sure, it doesn't look like Austin, but compared with San Antonio, Tulsa, or any of the other "satellite scenes" Tallinn would be right at home. And the Music! It had been far too long since I had some decent swing music, I didn't have time to properly prep my mp3 player, and that made me feel right at home.

The other volunteers were also wonderful sports about it. Because all the Estonians already knew the basics, I had to thrust my friends directly into a semi-intermediate class, but the other dancers were very helpful, friendly, and patient. It didn't hurt that my buddies took it all with very good charm.

So the Estonians got a lesson from an American, my friends had a good time doing something they certainly wouldn't have found on their own, and I got very sweaty (as usual).

In fact, it went so well, one of my friends got an invitation for us to go dancing again later in the week. A couple dancers setup their own "peer lessons/workshop" at a small studio every Friday. Pretty cool idea in lieu of a larger dance structure. So I got to go play teacher again, which I loved, and even more of the volunteers came for that odd experience as well. We even did the Shim Sham (Shimmy).

Lindy Hop certainly isn't universal, or some kind of unique language that transcends all boundaries, but for me it was a welcome refresher, and a very good ice breaker and bond-builder for me and my team. Apparently my fervor for dance (and moves, apparently) convinced them all that I must be homosexual, but I'm trying to take that as a compliment.

Such is life, when you're (Weber) on the Lamb.