All the Way Around

Arizona, along with Indiana, has the peculiarity of keeping standard time even as all the states around it switch to daylight savings. This meant that on our way west, we attended only one dance in Mountain time: Santa Fe, NM.

Our first night in this time zone was spent in the Guadalupe Mountains National Park, home to the highest point in Texas. However, winds we estimated at 45 MPH kept it from being a peaceful stay; our tent was blown over with us inside, and we spent a nearly sleepless night in the car, wind rocking us, heat lightning flashing outside the windshield before us.

When we finally arrived in Santa Fe, we were exhausted, wearily searching for a place to eat before the dance began (though they do have great restaurants). Miraculously, we found the Odd Fellows Hall and arrived on time.

Santa Fe was a much smaller city than I was expecting. With roughly 60,000 people, it didn’t have a single sky scraper. Instead, the city’s downtown was made up of one and two-story adobe buildings surrounding a few major streets and plazas. Lisa instantly fell in love with the architecture, vowing she would move there some day. I chalked this up to the fact that we were in the state capital of “the Land of Enchantment,” New Mexico’s nickname.

Fresh bread was laid out in the dance hall’s foyer with butter on the side. As we paid to get in, I noticed a poster on the wall with a picture of Uncle Sam. It said, “I want YOU to dance today!”

The dance space was small, but the sides of the room were packed with an eclectic array of furniture. Half of the chairs were red velvet seated thrones. Not surprisingly, these were the chairs that most of the band chose to sit in. A disco ball hung from the center of the room and when the main lamps were dimmed for the waltz, it sprang to life sending small points of light all over the room.

We learned during the beginner’s session that there would be open calling that night, and Lisa insisted that I call Trip to Lambertville. I signed up with the main caller, who excitedly put me down to call after the break. He had a distinct appearance, with braids in his beard and a bandanna on his head. Lisa learned that he was a street musician, a part of the local Buskers Society, and that his group had an upcoming gig as a part of a local radio fund drive.

“We’re closely connected with the Albuquerque group,” one of my partners told me. “We’re a little wilder, though,” she added. Albuquerque and Santa Fe alternate Saturdays, with one city holding dances the 1st and 3rd, and the other taking 2nd and 4th.

The callers stood on a small stage next to the band, and each called very different dances. The main caller got things going with a circle dance; a woman called a dance with four quick pass throughs that sent each dancer hurtling up and down the hall only to return the way they came; another man taught a dance with petronella turns. At times, the calling was superb; at others, mistimed calls sent the dancers in the wrong direction. The energy always remained at a high level, and there were never complaints from the floor. The dancers took everything in stride.

When it was my turn to call, we were well into the evening. One of the callers introduced me to the dancers before I took the stage, explaining that Lisa and I were visiting from the Northeast. “So be on your best behavior!” came a shout from the crowd below.

I quickly walked the dance through and got everyone back to place, confident that they could handle Trip to Lambertville with no problem. I turned to the band and asked them for some reels. “That’s basically what we know,” was the response from the stand up bass player. I called the dance through once, then realized to my horror that I had left out a move. I quickly corrected my mistake and was amazed to find that the dancers recovered as soon as I did so, with barely a trace of confusion.

A boy of about 8 joined the dancing with his parents, adding a playful dynamic to the set he was in. It was obvious he liked to swing and alamande, jumping and smiling as he did so.

Toward the end of the night, the main caller asked if I had another dance to call, so I got up and called the Scout House Reel. The microphone inexplicably stopped working, so they set me up with a wireless headset. It was a blast watching the Santa Fe dancers do some of my favorite dances from back home. The band, known as Hey!, played great music to call to, giving me lots of energy.

Santa Fe was in a truly beautiful area, and Lisa and I took time to see some of the scenery before moving on. At Bandalier National Monument, we explored the Indian ruins in the Frijoles canyon. Lisa conquered her fear of heights to ascend over 14 stories up a ladder system into a ceremonial cave.

-Santa Fe, NM

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 25th, 2007 at 6:18 pm and is filed under 13 New Mexico. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.