Portia’s Island

Last weekend, I went ballroom dancing with my mother-in-law in Quezon Park.  The senior citizens of Dumaguete have a ballroom dancing association ans they hold their dancing sessions in the park every weekend. 

Looking at all the old women there move, you would not think they are at least 60 years old.  Some of them dance really well.  Everybody on the dance floor look so well put together in their dresses and shoes—and we’re talking about high heels, the kind with only a one inch diameter pointy thingie that can miraculously support all your body weight.

Even I could see that they really enjoy being on the dance floor. The shoes they are wearing probably hurt after  an hour (unless they are dancing shoes), but you wouldn’t see it in their faces.  And they would all be made-up with bright red lipsticks and shiny dresses with sequins, tassels and all. 

The other day, as I was walking in downtown Dumaguete, I saw one of the dancing ladies. She was in a stall selling doormats and rags–the 3-for-P50 kind that you can use to wipe kitchen surfaces or as a potholder. I am very sure she was the same woman, only without make-up and the pointy shoes and the shiny dress.  She looked tired, and seemed to be waiting for something. Maybe she was counting the days till its Saturday again, so she can put on her dancing shoes. I can really understand now why she was glowing on the dance floor as she tangoed and jived the whole night…

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 18th, 2007 at 6:58 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.