an evening of dancing

One night, we took a walk down to the center of Debrecen for some ice cream (blackberry). My aunt did some shopping, while I settled down to delightedly watch some traditional Hungarian dancers. I really wish that we Americans had some sort of traditional dance, because I have always loved watching these sort of dances and would love to dance them even more, I think. The women were all dressed in blue or red dresses with a flower print, and wore red ribbons in their braided hair. Their main action was one of twirling and skipping. The men were my favorite part, though. They were dressed in black pants, a white shirt, a black vest, and a black hat and tall boots. They looked cool, but their dancing was even better. It was so athletic and amazing. Not only did they lead the women in the dances, but they also kept up a sort of rhythm with the fast music. They didn’t simply clap along on the second and fourth beat, they beat out an accompanying rhythm of their own. They clapped, snapped their fingers, stomped their feet, chanted, and my favorite: slapped their boots. They would jump and slap their feet, then jump and slap their shin, then cross their feet behind them and slap their feet in the back, then kick their heels, then jump some more and make different sounds by slapping different parts of their boots. It was utterly mesmerizing. They were keeping this complex, athletic time, and dancing and twirling their partners at the same time. I sat and watched and soaked up every part of it. Unfortunately I didn’t bring my camera, or I could have posted a short video, but really there is no way to properly convey it to you. I wish that you could have been with me and shared this awesome sight.