by Ascen Arriazu

Created on: May 31, 2008

It was the year 1997 and when we decided we were getting married, I insisted it should be in my country. I could not imaging it any where else and as Mike didn't mind much of traditions, he immediately said he would go along with whatever I said.

We prepared the dress, the hotel, the invitations... I explained to him the customary steps we should follow and he found everything new and exciting. Except for one thing: the Waltz!

Back home, the groom and bride must open the ball after the feast with a Waltz. It is nothing difficult, everybody does it and enjoy it: being in the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by those who love you, dressed in your bridal outfits and holding the partner of your life, going round the room in happiness, your feet flying in joy.

To me, it was just one more of the many traditions I knew so well, but for Mike... he panicked.

"I cannot do it", he said one morning, "I cannot go there and start dancing around with you in my arms and everybody looking at me, I wouldn't know where to put my feet!"

"Let's look for some lessons," I suggested, and so we did.

We found a local couple who advertised in the local newspaper. The lessons would take place in a church hall and we would be a very small number, only three couples plus the teachers. It was quite expensive but it sounded perfect for us.

Our first lesson was on a Saturday morning. We slowly followed Rita and Tim's instructions and soon we were giggling and holding each other with childish excitement. Mike's arms seemed stronger than usual and his eyes had that especial bright they have when he is seriously engaged into making something work. The first one was a two hour lesson on position of the hands, arms, head and some very basic movements. When we went back home we kept practicing for the rest of the day, we got up early on Sunday morning and hold each other and danced around the coffee table in the living room, we were hook!

The course consisted of ten sessions and because we all seemed quite interested in perfecting that type of dance, we kept with it during the three following weeks. But at the end of the fifth week Mike started to lose interest, we passed from the Waltz to the Cha, cha, cha and he did not enjoy it much. We talked to the teachers and left the course.

The weeks from then to the wedding day were pretty intense: several visits to the modist for completion of my dress, shopping for the invitations paper, contacts with the Spanish priest in charge of the ceremony... we did

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