Out in Split!

The other half of the bed was empty when I opened my eyes. Well..that was strange: I had fallen asleep next to my sister. I jumped out of bed and walked to the living room. My dad told me what I already knew, my family had left to walk around in Split (Croatia) , without me. Now, I could just sit in the apartment all night wasting a night in which so much could happen or I could go out, alone. 

No way I would sit in the apartment all night, and besides I knew the city. I knew the way (well sort off but I'm not afraid to ask anyone anything, especially not for directions). I would not just be okay, I would be perfectly fine, so I got dressed and went out. Why not?

Burek with spinach

First I walked through the city and went all kinds of places, through all kinds of old familiar streets trying to find something I had not yet seen.  I hadn't eaten anything for hours so I bought some food on the go, Burek with spinach: my favorite! At a certain point I walked through an art market I had not seen before, that ended up at a place in between some old buildings. Where am I, I thought, feeling slightly lost. But following some people I ended up outside on the street again. See, no problem whatsoever.

I walked a bit and saw people nicely dressed to go out, cute couples walking hand in hand, but also families with little children running around, laughing and playing catch.  I stopped to look at an acrobatic show. Two tall men were literally throwing a little boy around. He was twisting and turning in the air like a ball and was caught up again with ease, as if he was light as a feather. I was impressed.
The thought that the little guy must have crashed to the ground a thousand of times before the others could catch him so effortlessly bothered me but at the same time made it even more amazing.

I continued, then stopped at a random place and leaned against an old dark green door to write. A dark skinned big guy, that probably works out, who was walking by with his girlfriend, came up to me and took a peek at my notebook. 'Oh, I thought you were drawing', he said. He sounded a bit disappointed, when he found out I was "only" writing.  I almost felt sorry, but also thankful because it was then that I looked up and saw the wonderful old wall that stretched out in front of me. Without this stranger I would have not even paid attention to it. And I thought: Why not draw, so I drew.
Two boys walked by a bit later. They looked at my drawing talking to each other in what I'm guessing was Croatian. Then one of the two turned to me and said: 'Talent!'  I smiled and thanked him, not that impressed by my drawing myself, but who doesn't love a compliment?

I tried finishing my drawing, but I got more and more distracted by the music that came flowing into the street and seemed to be calling and pulling at me. So I thought: Why not listen? Why would I sit here and draw when I can dance? I was fighting against my urge to dance that grew bigger and bigger inside me, until at a certain point I closed my notebook, leaving my drawing unfinished and started walking, fast almost like a zombie that's in a hurry, towards the music. It welled up as I came closer and I automatically started moving.

When I reached the dance floor, I took my shoes off but then  I just stood there on my socks. I knew no one and at all and observed the people and thought about approaching someone but who?

It was then that an old lady with short white-grey curly hair,  walked up to me, as if she had heard, seen or felt my doubt. She started talking to me. I was caught by surprise by her approach and her English was beyond bad but I tried to listen to her and to understand what she was trying to make clear to me. Turned out she wasn't saying that much but was mostly repeating the same things, for example that I should be careful alone on the street. She repeated it so many times that it started creeping me out, even though I had felt no fear at all walking the streets alone.

She also talked about how much she loves to dance and as she took my hand. I understood that she wanted to dance with m  so I placed my bag across the dance floor on a safe spot right in front of the dj and we danced. It was amazing to see her face lit up. She smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying. It didn't matter that she was totally off rhythm and didn't know "the steps ".  Afterwards she thanked me almost too many times and I smiled.

She gestured to some men, who probably thought she was crazy and she might have been a bit, but so what, to dance with me and kept telling me to dance. I laughed and kept asking her:' With who?' Luckily a Croatian man walked up to me and we danced a few songs. It went almost automatically as if we had danced many times before. I danced giving everything I got with a smile on my face and danced as if the skin on my feet was not being scraped off while I twisted and twirled on the rough floor. It was not until I got home that I realized that there was not much left of what used to be my socks.



At times the old lady approached us and stood very close looking and smiling and I smiled back at her.  One of the songs stopped. The old lady was standing at the other side of the dance floor, where she was looking after my old, worn out, stinky sport-shoes that were falling apart (her suggestion, not mine). She gestured me to come to her so I did. She asked me what the name of the dance I had just danced was called. 'I love dancing, tell me', she said. Why not, I thought. We danced another time, but as I tried to teach her she twisted the wrong way, almost to break my hand (not on purpose of course).  Her smile disappeared shortly and she apologized.  Turns out she was Russian, and probably also a bit drunk, but I sure made her night and she also made mine.

I asked the man I had danced with, if he could also dance bachata and walked to the dj to request a song. But as I went up to the dj he asked me to dance instead and of course I said yes, why not? Turned out he has a dance school and organizes many dance party and also organized capoeira shows, coincidence, I think not.

He invited me to a party the next day. Too bad I couldn't go. My parents would have gone mad if I drew off to another city with strangers, professionals or not for any reason at all. They do not seem to understand that strangers have the best candy.

I'm glad I didn't stay inside that night.  
It was so great to roam the street, to meet a few strangers, to write, to draw and to dance. 
There's not much that gets better than dancing! 
It was a great night and a great success, story of my life.