Can’t Dance, Don’t Ask Me

A small group of us gathered to attend a Hungarian Folkdance show. It was instigated by a lovely young woman, Kate who is here to teach modern dance through the Fulbright Scholarship Program. We met at the bus and went up to Castle Hill where the venue was being held.

The show must have been a sell out and we were fortunate enough to be first in line to get the best seats of the open seating. After an hour and a half of lavish costumes, we were all worn out from the expediture of exercise the dancers displayed. We burned calories vicariously.

Many of the dances were male dominated with the women dancers on the side lines, moving to a lesser degree and adding window dressing to the performance. For this reason, the feminists amongst us did not care for the show. I enjoy dance of most varieties, so I had an enjoyable time. We all begged off when they offered dance lessons at the end of the show. After using that much energy, how could we possibly?

We did need to replace some energy; therefore, we all made a beeline for the 24 hour Hungarian crepe restaurant to get sweetened up with dessert crepes, a great topper to the end of the evening.