I love to dance. Lucas doesn't. I have to wonder sometimes how this Carnival loving, soca winin' girl from the West Indies ended up married to a man who doesn't dance. I think dancing is definitely a cultural thing, more so than a matter of race. Everyone in the Caribbean can dance. Obviously I'm exaggerating here, but what I mean is regardles of class. colour, or creed we dance. Dancing is just such a part of the daily life there, that we don't even give it a second thought. As we like to say "just knock two stone together and I dey!"
When I first moved here I would get excited when Lucas said we were going to a party. Party (or fete as we call it) means only one thing where I come from: dark room, loud music, gyrating bodies, plenty drinks and a big pot of rice and stew (or oil down, or corn soup, or crab and dumplings depending on which island you're on.)
What he was talking about were what we would call "get-togethers" - you know a group of friends sitting around talking and drinking wine, with soft music in the background that no one pays attention to. That, my darling husband, is not a party.
So I have come to learn that the French in general don't dance. Usually at these soirees, as we'll refer to them from now on, the only one whose foot you'll see tapping in rhythm with the music is mine. Sometimes I even do a little wine in a corner, but not often. I'm afraid that they just wouldn't understand.
"just knock two stone together and I dey!" = knock two stones together (to make a rhythm) and I'm interested!
wine or winin' = the colloquial name for the gyrating motion made with the hips (ala the singer Shakira)