Passion. Sweat. Dancing, music, drums. Wine. Clapping. Flamenco.
I bought tickets to a flamenco show for Sunday evening, knowing that it was a must-do in Southern Spain. So we traveled down the narrow streets of Granada, stopping for tapas and drinks along our way, of course. After eating our plates of potatoes, cheeses, meats and pile of fried sardines, we continued our meander towards the tucked-in venue of the Flamenco Tableau.
An overlook of Granada 
Tapas at a small restaurant on our way to Flamenco. 
A fountain on the road with beautiful tile work.
We were shown to our seats in a small room, one table to the left of center, about 4 feet from the stage. As we waited, we visited with another Canadian couple who were traveling through Spain, sharing our common perceptions about the Spanish culture. Noah and Natalie made us proud by waiting patiently for the performance, no doubt fascinated by watching the people around us, as we saw many nationalities represented in the room.
A guitar player, singer and drummer stepped onto the stage and the noise of the crowd quickly diminished in anticipation. The guitarist then proceeded to extinguish any low expectations we may have held and remind us that we had come to the birthplace of this fine instrument. The singer joined his beautiful voice, with Arabic sounding blends, and the rythm was perfectly held on a cajón.
Fingers have never flown so fast, and of course he had no written music to guide him, only his passion. 
The singer’s voice blended with drum and guitar, and though we didn’t understand the words, we could feel the song.
Then, the dancers entered, and while our ears still held on to the exquisite music, our eyes could not leave the vibrancy of the dancing couple. The lady had a flowing dress, part of a flamenco wardrobe, and the man was dressed in a well-fit suit. Both had scarves to add to their movements and the drama of the dance. But more than dresses and scarves, the face of each dancer held more emotion than most mid-westerners have ever dared to express, and it was hard to look away.
The dancers started with quick movements, wide sweeping arms and twirls, and their feet kept up a tap dance that rivaled any instrument. In each new song, one dancer was featured and each time there was a grand finale of feet hitting the floor faster and faster with marked jabs and flicks. A highlight of the performance was when the lady stepped off the stage in front of Natalie to dance with all of her might, legs and feet flying. After she was finished, Natalie told me, “I saw that she was sweating!”. You bet she was, baby! You’ve probably just never had the opportunity to be so close to a dancer to see how she sweats!
It was definitely a highlight for our family to experience the passion, drama and expertise of Flamenco, and I feel that we have gained yet another piece of Spanish culture.
