Salsa in Seoul

Remember how I double checked to make sure there was salsa in Seoul before I would commit to this move? (By the way, remember how it was the second of July when I said, I might like to go abroad? And it was the seventh of August when I stood in my stark little apartment with the hand held shower nozzle over the sink? Yeah, still wrapping my mind around that one a little bit.) So, last night I went salsa dancing!

Caliente, in Itaewon. Took about an hour by bus, then cross the street, take a right by Dunkin' Donuts, hike the hill, left on the main drag, ask the nice Latino boys eating empanadas from a street cart where the hec it is, then climb four flights of stairs in the middle of a strip. Pay six bucks and walk inside the tiny bar that's piping bachata, merengue, reggaeton, and salsa. Aqui esta! Thank god. I think I'm going to love Seoul.

It was a paycheck week for the army boys, so the bar was full of em. Emily and George sat at the bar for a while, couraging up. Once I got one dance, I didn't have to sit the rest of the night, only head back to the bar once in a while to check on my friends, who met a fellow English teacher from Miami. He had taught Latin dance for a while and is now touring the world, a few months teaching English in each place. He's my new best friend. He watched while a little mustachioed man I was dancing with reached out and tugged me to his chest, where I shoved off of him with both palms. When the song was finally, finally, over, I went and stood by the English teacher, facing the window so I could laugh it off. He took my hand and led me to the floor. "I'll make up for it," he said.

By the end of the night, I had some wicked blisters. They're still all bubbly today. But other than that, my new gold shoes are great!