But what sucks about knowing what you’re going to be when you grow up, is you can’t be a Hip-Hop dancer from Serbia. And I don’t get to be a writer of Broadway musicals or an advertising executive or ... 17 again. The evening of Jam On It was way packed. There were so many kids. It was 25 Lev to get in and… I bought t-shirts. I knew they would be for sale. I have a white, red, and yellow. I think the afternoon was quarterfinals because the evening was just all the best dancers. The categories were Locking, Group, House, and Hip Hop music dancing. It turns out that no one was rapping, it was dancing, beatboxing and then the spray painting competitions.
This is now very difficult for me because I never got my real camera. It’s balky and I need to carry the iPad, so I just couldn’t. Also, dancing needs to be seen in movement, a still is well, still. But if you care to see the best dancing, please go and look for it on Facebook pages and YouTube videos. Every other youth held a phone up to the stage; the other youth held a proper camera or recorder. It is essential that I also bring up the peace of it all. The competing dancers shook hands before they begun, hugged when they were finished, and clapped for the victor. The audience was great. I never smelled smoke. There were Nescafe cups all over the place. These kids were drinking coffee. Seats were never saved and people moved freely throughout the crowd. Bookbags and sweatshirts were all over the place, free from their owners. I’m sure those things found their way to the proper home at the end of the night.
And the more I watched, the more it did seem like Fast Forward. When the opponent pretends that the other opponent’s feet or breath or whatever stinks and when one person extends their hand as if to shake and then… psych! They smooth the side of their hair. And man alive did the ladies represent! They weren’t just pretty vapid faces. They were beautiful and talented. Some people wore costumes like the Swiss Guard. There was a bit of matchy-matchy costumes but not too much. It wasn't obnoxious;I never found it annoying.I had a good time. It would have been nice to go with a friend, to know someone there. Still, I feel good that I went to both events.
Tomorrow there is more but I can’t go. Since I am not going to be a Hip-Hop dancer, I need to work on what I will be… a boring professor. Please note, it rained all day and was cold. When I came home at 5, I was in no mood to go out again at 7, still I did. I met a woman at that café I was sitting at when I wrote Part 1 earlier. Her name is Nelly and she saw me typing away and wanted to talk. She was kind. Her English was good. She told me not to hate Sofia and Bulgarians. The majority is quite nice and will be very interested in me. I took her picture. She asked me how I was finding it all. I said it was tough, the same thing I told my father on my second day here. It is true that this place is obstinate, selfish, hard, and direct. It's tough. So am I.
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