“The Hustle” was born in the USA in the '70s, also known as the “disco era”. It was introduced to Russia in the '80s and became crazy popular in the last 10-15 years. I would comfortably bet that no other city in the entire world dances the hustle as actively and seriously as in Moscow. In the words of one Moscow dance club, Движение, “it is not simply dance training or an interesting hobby – it’s a way of life.” So, yeah, dance, and the hustle in particular, is kind of a big deal here. Compared with most other dances, the hustle is much less tied to a concrete musical style, and, though usually danced to modern “disco-tech” music, can pretty much be paired with whatever music you want. Most clubs offering beginning-hustle classes advertise that the hustle is relatively easy to learn and, after 2 months of basic technique and basic dance figurations, you can begin to dance in discos and clubs and not look super dumb. (Yes, the discothèque is alive and well! It’s true!)
When I told my mom I was learning how to dance “The Hustle”, she sent me this video. Watching it made me feel uncomfortable in a way that’s difficult to describe. It’s kind of like the combination of wanting to laugh, and cry, and clap your hands, and also shut down your computer forever. Thanks, Mom.
Irina put me in contact with the most wonderful person, Alina, who studied abroad at Dickinson a few years ago and knows a lot about dance in Moscow. We met for coffee and she suggested that I try social dancing (i.e. “The Hustle”), in which she also participates. She researched open classes offered at different studios around the city and made some calls for me. Last Tuesday, we met at metro Komsomolskaya and she took me to a dance studio, called Ivara, to try out their beginning-hustle class, even though it was already about 2 weeks into the session. She knew one of the instructors already, and even stayed for more than half of the class, just in case I needed her. Since I have experience dancing ballet, modern, and jazz, the steps were easy to pick up. However, I have very little partnering experience, and still find it a little challenging to follow my partner’s lead and understand when to push and pull, or tense and relax. One of my teachers, Igor, who exudes an incredibly calm and peaceful aura, helped me in my first class, when I still had not picked up on the essential element of waiting for my partner’s signal. He literally dropped my hands and stepped back at one point, but I just kept on going. He said something along the lines of, “What are you doing right now? You’re not even dancing with anyone,” (but in Russian) and then we tried again, and now I’m better at listening to my partner! Ta-da! By the end, he said, “very good” (очень хорошо) and it was a big moment for me.
The majority of the lesson takes place in a circle formation, and the men move on to the next partner every few minutes. This is a comfortable system because some people pick up new steps more quickly than others, just as you “click” with some people more easily than with others. So, if your partner unexplainably smells exactly like chamomile tea, and it’s distracting because you are expending too much energy wondering if you will ever be able to peacefully enjoy a cup of chamomile tea again, without thinking of that one random guy in your dance class, then don’t worry! Soon you’ll dance with someone else!
One of my very favorite aspects of dance lies in the practice of movement as being the most effective method of communication. The entire class is taught in Russian and every student but me is a native Russian speaker. Naturally, as this is only my third year studying the language, I don’t understand all of the spoken explanations and instructions. However, if I pay close attention and watch how my teachers move and what everyone else in the class is doing, I can catch on pretty quickly. It’s challenging when the teachers explain something that cannot be grasped or understood simply by watching, such as pushing against my partner’s hand with my upper back or relaxing my fingers. This is when it becomes essential to be dancing with a partner who is patient and can explain such nuances. By this point, pretty much everyone in class knows I’m American, and it’s honestly so fun to be the only English speaker in the room. Plus, during each new class, I pick up new vocabulary and am able to understand more and more. The speaking and listening practice is wonderful for my confidence, and I feel so much more at home in Moscow now that I’ve found my own special place.
I still feel a little behind, since I started the class session late. So, yesterday, I went to another studio’s beginning-hustle class. I got lost trying to find the building and was really struggling to keep my cool as I imagined a scenario, in which I walked into class late and everyone stared at me until I slowly backed away and then fell down the stairs and, ugh, it was just a whole big thing. (I think Leonardo DiCaprio showed up at one point, but he failed to bring anything positive to the already awkward situation.) Thankfully, I saw another girl, who looked like she could potentially be going to a dance class, so I followed her at a non-creepy distance and it turned out we were both going to the same place! We started talking (all in Russian!) and even shared a locker together. After class, she offered to drive me to the metro station, which was probably silly since it was closer to just walk myself, but it was so wonderful because now I have a new friend! I am dancing on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday at two different studios, for a total of six hours per week. I realized that I have roughly three months left in Moscow, which, suddenly, is a terrifying thought. I want to learn as much as I can in the time I have left, and maybe even participate in beginning-level competitions.
In the past week, I attended class in four different dance studios, two of which I ventured to all by myself. It was so scary. I cannot even begin to explain how nervous I felt in the hours beforehand. I literally could not eat. I tried to eat dinner and one bite left me feeling physically ill. There were just so many different factors running through my head: What if I get lost? What if I forget what to say when I make a payment? (Я хочу взять абонемеит на 8 занятий без возможности пропуска. – I memorized it!) What if I can’t find the dressing room? What if everyone is mean? What if I don’t understand what’s happening in class? What if someone asks me a question and I don’t know how to answer? What if I actually am so nervous that I am rendered speechless? … You see, sometimes it’s just not easy being me. As a rule, I try to remind myself that I feel anxious about a lot of things and, often, the more anxious I feel beforehand, the more important it is to just do the thing. I like to repeat a confidence-inducing mantra to myself. There are a few that I rotate between. One is: “This is happening. You’re doing this. This is fine. Everything’s fine.” Another favorite: “You are pretty, smart, and capable.” I just repeat these over and over and over and over and over to myself as I walk towards a scary thing and, sometimes, it helps.
The best things in my life make me want to throw up. I realize this is far from an elegant way to phrase my feelings. However, I do believe it to be the truest. Going to these dance studios and putting myself out there and trying was such an important thing for me to do and I couldn’t have done it without the village of people who push and support me, like Irina and Alina, and Katya, who helped me buy new dance shoes.
I’m over-the-moon thankful for my friendships here and for the beautiful little world I’m building for myself in this city.
I am happy.
My instructors, Tatyana and Igor, who teach at Dance Studio Ivara. (Located at M. Komsomolskaya)
Image Credit: http://www.ivara.ru/images/sliderinprep/it/it_2.jpg
Video Credit: https://vimeo.com/133262996