New Forrozeiros

I was looking forward to an evening out in London. One of my favourite pastimes is dancing. Usually if a client or one of the escorts from the office, for that matter, want to go clubbing, I agree to go. This night I was doing something completely different.

My gay friend, Franz, wanted to try out a Brazilian “forro” evening at a bar in Canary Wharf. I would be staying on his sofa-bed for the night, so there was no hassle in trying to get back across town late at night.

This was a style of Brazilian dancing I had never heard of before. I had tried my hand at salsa, but that was years ago, when I had a boyfriend. Franz was 100% gay, so this was only going to be a fun night out. That is what a busy lady of the evening needs sometimes!

I was pleased to hear that it was fairly easy to master so didn’t really want to spoil the adventure by finding out too much about it. So we headed out, and I wore kitten heels rather than stilettos for a change and a knee-length skirt, rather than dinner-party dresses.

Soon I found out, as I lined up for an introduction along with fourteen other people, that this was a hip-swivelling dance, originating from Brazil’s north-eastern states. Fans of this style of dance were called “forrozeiros;” a term I would almost certainly forget. Apparently it is “competitive than salsa and less pedantic than tango”, whatever that meant.

“Let’s get on with it,” whispered Franz, as he eyed up a young Latino guy with biceps bigger than his. “Don’t leave me alone tonight, Franz,” I warned, as the Latino guy smiled shyly in our direction.

We watched avidly and tried out a few moves. Actually it was quite a modern dance, with only a few spins and luckily not that difficult to get the legwork right. We laughed when we went wrong and then tried to dance a sequence. We weren’t the worst dancers there and we practised our moves to perfection.

When the dance ended, we grabbed a drink and watched others dancing. The young Latino had paired off with a young Cuban girl I had talked to in the restroom, so Franz looked slightly disappointed. I offered Franz another dance practise and he gladly took my hand.

 

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