Friday, November 27, 2015

Rochester Contra Dance Thanksgiving Festival

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” I hear you say! I’d never heard of contra dancing before my niece Alison became an addict, actually traveling to go to contra dance festivals. I’d occasionally see her Facebook posts, and I know I’ve asked her about it, but when she’d start talking about minor sets and triple formations my eyes would glaze over. We invited her to spend Thanksgiving with us, since she’s studying for her masters relatively nearby, and I got an excited text: “Rochester Contra Dance Thanksgiving Weekend Festival!” So even though I have two left feet, and the last time I did something remotely similar was when I went clogging as a pre-teen in what seemed like the remote mountains of North Carolina (where my parents would park my siblings and me with an array of my dad’s aunts and cousins), I had to go check this out.

According to Alison, contra dancing has a very supportive culture and is very well defined. It is welcoming to people of all ages, including children, and beginners as well as experienced dancers. There is never any alcohol, and people are encouraged to dance with different partners each dance.

I was impressed with the number of people who came out on this rainy Friday night. The caller welcomed everyone to the 32nd Annual Thanksgiving Contra Dance Weekend (who knew something like this existed in Rochester?), and explained the moves before each dance, so everyone could practice a full set before the music started. There were a couple of men in skirts (Alison said they like to feel the twirl of a skirt, just as women do…), and it wasn’t uncommon to see men partnering with men. It seemed like a very friendly and nonthreatening environment, and the only wallflowers were a few people like me, who refused to dance.


Alison had shown me a few steps and they made me understand the need for eye contact with your partner, because even just a little twirling made me dizzy. So even though I did get asked to dance a couple of times, I politely declined. Apparently, in contra dance, the rule is: “Better never than late.” “Never” was fine with me! Plus, it just seemed like too much touching of strangers’ hands. But it looked like great fun, great exercise, and, well, wholesome, so I didn’t feel guilty slipping out and leaving Alison to dance the rest of evening. And I don’t feel the need to accompany her on Saturday for things like Challenging Contras, Hambo, and Zias, 4x4s, etc. Seriously, what?

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