Bustin' a Move

Last weekend's other activity involved a dance floor and some very rhythmic clapping by a strict, sorta-scary salsa instructor. Our friend Steven's birthday was on Saturday, so we celebrated by heading downtown to Adams Morgan for salsa dancing lessons and Cuban food at Habana Village.

So, dancing really isn't, to put it mildly, Jason's "thing," and when he dropped me off to go park the car, I wondered if he wasn't just high-gearing it back to Virginia and away from anything resembling a disco ball. There are times when I really miss being surrounded by Nazarenes, and this was one of them--to say that "Jason doesn't dance" to our Baptist friends just elicited confused looks, not understanding nods ("ahh, he's one of those") and whispered references to "Nazarcising." Sigh.

Regardless, we had a good time learning our 1-2-3...4-5-6s, and at the end of the night we had managed to avoid flattening each other's feet. (On the other hand, who is actually leading the dance is still under debate... :)) And we were rewarded with really good food afterwards! Steven is a photographer (like, a real photographer), so kudos to him for all these shots, and thanks for sharing with us!

(Ironically--or, maybe not so ironically--on Thursday night we were making dinner and decided to do an impromptu dance session in our (unfortunately window-filled) kitchen...and couldn't remember a single thing. Those Nazarene roots run deep...)