Zumba Today

Today I went for my second class of Zumba. I participated somewhat reluctantly in a dress rehearsal for tomorrow's parade downtown for Independence day. I confidently predict that no prizes shall be won by my group. And I say this with the full authority of having the distinction of being the worst one in the lot.


This sorry debacle occurred in the parking lot of the Soriana store which is adjacent to the senior's centre. We shuffled about ineffectually for about a half an hour. I was forced to give a jeering taxi driver a one finger salute for his insolence.

I was strongarmed after the practice to accept an INAPAM (Federal Institute For Retired People) T-shirt and to participate in the parade. I declined a graciously as I could, saying that I don't think that Mexico is quite ready to see me dancing in the streets. I also said that I had designated myself to be the official photographer for this event, and I would get the best photos printed for display on the bulletin board. This seemed to mollify them somewhat. Fortunately they do not yet know how terrible a photographer I am.

All in all though, it is always worthwhile to get some exercise.

While I was sitting on a shady bench at the centre, recuperating as it were from the sight of myself shambling about, sweating, overweight and old, among this group of scarf-waving Mexican ladies of similar vintage to myself, I was approached by my psychologist.

She asked me if I would like to assist at an English class being held under a large shady tree there a little later in the day. I agreed, saying only that I had to shower, change my clothes and have breakfast.

Some time later I appeared under the designated tree, to find a white haired gentleman of extremely advanced age attempting to teach a mixed class of seniors, who were as unruly as private school pupils on the last day of the term.

He greeted me brusquely after I had explained my presence there, and implied that I had interrupted his class. I offered to leave at that point, but he recovered himself and insisted that I stay. The class was attempting to sing the Beatle's song "Yesterday" first in Spanish, then in English.

Eventually, I was asked by the instructor if I wished to join in. I told him that I couldn't sing, but that I would read the lyrics aloud so that his students could hear the words pronounced properly. The instructor is Mexican, and although he speaks English well, does so with quite a pronounced accent.

I prefaced my reading with a self-serving little speech about how lucky they were to have me there since I am Canadian, and speak English properly, unlike the Americans. I don't normally brag like that, but in this case, I think it's true. Following this bit of rather timid bragadoccio, I read the lyrics aloud line by line, and had the class repeat each line after me so I could hear their pronunciation. I then corrected them on a couple of points of pronunciation, and had them sing it again A Capella. I congratulated them on their improvement. The class broke up shortly after that, and I receved an invitation to join them at a birthday party for one of the class, but I declined, citing household duties.

Now I must learn how to make my blog entries stop sounding like reports being written by an exceptionally dull police constable, and I shall be well on my way to blogger fame and fortune.