by Peter Pachecos

Created on: February 20, 2009

Paradise Regained...
It was a tiny dance studio.
In what can only be described as a form of free advertising (the perfect type), dancing space faced the main street; people couldn`t help but notice couples decked in formal attire doing the Waltz, Rumba or dramatic Tango. To get into the place, however, one had to circumvent a bawdy bar scene. Many considered it pokey to the point where their first visit was the only one. As a result, people who patronized First Step Dance Studio were limited only to whose love for ballroom dancing transcended outward appearance.

Managed and owned by a motley couple (she was a third generation welfare mum; he grew up in Argentina, arrived in this country via Chile, Peru, Mexico, West Germany and the US), although they were completely broke, they were united in a common love for dancing. Somehow, they managed to work out a deal with the landlord and acquire the floorspace. As it happened, the landlord owned the bar and restaurant downstairs and correctly reasoned the dance patrons would also frequent his establishment. At any rate, the symbiotic relationship worked well for people like us who simply longed for an affordable place to learn and enjoy ballroom dancing.
Henrique represented his native Argentina at numerous international dance competitions in his younger days. One lesson with the man usually convinced even the most sceptical how fortunate they were to have an instructor of this calibre running the show. His wife, Donna, was no slouch either; she took care of the beginners while He coached the advanced classes.
The free and relaxed atmosphere of the studio eventually drew in a lot of people. Membership comprised a varied mix. There was this lady of Ukrainian descent who spoke Portuguese and swore fluently in English, a Portuguese who spoke Hindi, an Italian who learned his dancing in Naples and used to do professional shows. Then there was the blonde nurse who alternated between the local chapter of the society of Aryan Nations and the dance studio. There was this thoroughly mixed up young woman who, the day before her wedding, was caught by her fiance in the act of extra- and pre-marital sex with a man she`d just met in a bar and who now claimed her involvement in the dancing scene was merely to ascertain what it was that drove men in general to be such sexual demons/deviants/animals. In her conversations with me, she constantly complained that the men she danced with kept looking at ther breasts. After a little research,

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