A week or so later, having a free afternoon, I headed back to the Square. My wife was busy so I headed off alone. Standing quietly behind the crowds surrounding the dance floor I simply enjoyed watching. There was the middle-aged woman who clearly wanted to be a dancer who, though full of heart, lacked talent. There is the odd elderly man in a three piece suit and white gloves performing a strange mixture of Xinjiang dance, Vogue poses, and a variation of the 'Walk Like and Egyptian' dance. There is the man who I WOULD think is incredible Uyghur dancer…if he were a woman. There are the young men and women who of course came out of the womb dancing or had had professional training. More than anything, I love watching the 'lao ren' or old people. They often lack grace or even ability, but, even despite the chilly weather, they come out for some fresh air and a bit of dancing.
So, as I was enjoying people watching when a middle-aged gentleman approached me and began chatting. As we were exchanging pleasantries an elderly lady approached. Soaking wet she may have been 100lbs. With the heal on her orthopedic shoes, she might have been 5ft. Bundled up in her quilted jacket and scarf she pointed to me and said to the gentleman, "Is he a foreigner? Where is he from? I think I saw him dancing last week!" "He's from America, Auntie. And, NO! You wouldn't have seen this guy dancing", replied my new friend. Knowing it was likely me, I decided to let this play out. "Oh! Well, he sure looks like that foreigner I saw! He was a GREAT dancer!", said the little old lady. "Auntie! Americans don't like to dance. This guy doesn't want to dance. Foreigners don't like dancing like us", came the reply from my friend. I LOVE when local people tell other local people about my culture.
"Well. I could swear it was him", said the lady. She had all but accepted that I was in fact NOT the dancing foreigner she had seen. "Besides. This American doesn't know how to play Xinjiang dance. I mean, how the HECK would HE know how to dance?" added the gentleman for final emphasis. At this point, I jumped in. Making conversation with her, we chatted a bit as my our friend listened in. "Do you come often to dance, Auntie?", I asked . "I come ever day", she replied, immediately followed by an invitation. "Do you want to dance with me?", she asked sweetly, staring kindly up at me. At first I felt a bit embarrassed about my foreignness, my whiteness, my tallness and her shortness. But. HOW CAN YOU SAY 'NO' TO AN OLD LADY ASKING YOU TO DANCE? Standing aside, I motioned for her to take the floor. I can only imagine my new friend thinking, "Oh this will be fun to watch the foreigner try our dance!"
Auntie took the floor. Her dance basically consisted of holding her hands up as she bounced around in circles. It was the cutest thing ever. I let loose and busted some of my finer moves. Some shoulder shimmies here. A head bobble there. Arms swinging in time. A little move I learned from my time in Uzbekistan here and there. I must admit, I enjoyed hamming it up. I have always enjoyed a good performance. All the while, Auntie bounced around me with a smile. And old boy stood on the sidelines and threw me a thumbs up as he picked his jaw up off the ground.