By: Nancy Ibarra Medrano
The full moon occurred in the early hours of April 19th. I knew the day would be jam packed with sentiment and opportunity.
I asked my housemates to join me in watching the dancing that night. I always enjoy their company and they always enjoy a free show, but their timing is never quite on schedule. I could understand their delay because I was similarly occupied just a few hours previously. However, I had guests arriving late that night. Thus, driving my need to stay awake. I felt compelled to maximize every moment of the night. This included experiencing the night with dancing strangers.
The teak wood floors garnered a room full of life and festivity. But what were the people celebrating? There were couples and friends, but they were all separate of one another. There were groups and co-workers, but distinguishable. I can’t tell if you have noticed throughout my posts, but I am surely one to be more observant of the people. The sense of the room was familial, in the most impressive way. The people were together. A community in celebration of a culture. A culture that I am lucky enough to call my own.
I was asked to dance 3 times. The first dance was with my professor. She is a dancer and I knew to expect rhythm. The song carried our ankles and hips and I was in awe of the energy in the setting. I lingered away to join my friends. We continued watching people and their expression of the music. My curiosity and carelessness led me to interrupt an interaction between an older man and his attempt to convince a faculty member to dance with him. My eyes were caught in the middle, but luckily my friend had asked me to dance with him less than a minute before.
That night was new. It was unique of any other. It was a night that led us to an unsuspecting house party and a much needed game of spoons.
The night of the full moon.