In my search for a cheap and convenient transportation from New York to Boston, I called Martin’s Transportation. Minutes later, a bus pulled into my driveway. Inside the bus on our way to Boston, I met the exquisite Salsa. At first, she was strange and awkward. But she never stopped wooing my ears. Miles after, she became dazzling, fast and sensual. Since then, I have never been the same.

Salsa was brought to New York in the 1960s by Cubans, Puerto Ricans, Newyoricans (Puerto Rican immigrants in New York) and members of other Caribbean communities. Her origin went back to the Afro-Cuban religious music of slaves. Salsa evolved and integrated different music genres especially jazz. The diversification from the traditional Son Cubano and Mambo of the 30s to the New York salsa of the 70s took her to youths across America and beyond. Still, she continued to express the experiences and identity of many years of Afro-and Spanish-Caribbean culture of the Newyoricans.

As part of our introduction, I began to learn salsa. I learnt how to be in unison without stepping on my partner’s feet. I graduated to doing basic patterns in rhythm. Soon, I was making fascinating use of my space, rotating and changing direction in sync. In little time, I stopped worrying about my steps and started leading my partner. I was at ease, in control and even showed off a little. Next, we began the more complex variations, slowing, quickening, stopping and changing, all in tune. And finally, salsa became us.

The dancing floor became my canvas. With feet as brushes, sweats as oil, I drew my Mona Lisa. Every step was a scream. At every spin, I pleasured the stars and rocked the waterfall down my spine. From distant drums came tender melody that excited my pulse. Breeze of succulent aroma flew through my rapturous face. I rolled my hips in response and in adoration, teasing with every soft twist and releasing a stream of desire.

But I was not alone. Spontaneous laughter of my soul acknowledged my partner’s poise. I was drunk with the wine of her accent. Each whisper was like a sizzling steak on a red-hot grill. With each warm embrace, I became one with the moon. From the echo of the wind, harmony came in soft caress. Arm movement of a sweltering heart validated the trumpet. Every note reminded me of a hot bath in the valley of winter.

Even as clave faded, the echoes of the adventure stayed with me as a spiritual awakening. To me, Mambo sentimental had become a passionate philosophy.

It is a philosophy of learning to work as a team to achieve a common goal. It derives its uniqueness in the diverse and inclusive background and in its ability to continuously allow itself to be influenced by contemporary culture.

In trying to learn salsa, you begin with a struggle to learn your moves, stay in unison and avoid hurting each other. Through practice and training everyone begins to dance in tune. When it all comes together, it looks effortless. Everyone begins to get inspired, own the music, and through their own interpretations leave a legacy.

Inside my memory lives forever the experience of that love affair with Miss Salsa.