KIZ Dialogs - Part 2

Sergei:
And then… if I remember right, we went to some three-hour bootcamp, right?

Yuri:
No, no, no…
After my first workshop, before that infamous three-hour April bootcamp, you dragged me through several other workshops all over Barcelona!

Sergei:
Yeah, that was a true marathon. I remember how you looked by the end — full of questions and exhausted, but still going.

Yuri:
And then came the bootcamp in El Clot — yeah, that same neighborhood I’ll never forget because my brain exploded there.

It was way too much information at once. The teacher talked about lines, axes, posture, frame, proper walk, intention and action… And I stood there like I’d been launched into Jupiter’s orbit, surrounded by alien concepts!

Sergei:
That’s just from not being used to it 😉

Yuri:
And at the same time, I had to:
— listen to the music,
— walk with technique,
— dance mindfully,
— and lead the partner!

What? Where? Why?..
I didn’t understand ANY-THING.

Sergei:
I saw you trying your hardest not to drown in that information flood — it was really tough for you.

Yuri:
I walked out of that bootcamp remembering my mother and thinking one thing: “What the hell even was that?!”
Because in those festival photos you showed me, people looked happy, relaxed, emotional, in the flow!

Sergei:
Well yeah, those are people who’ve already learned something… And you wanted it like that right away, huh? 😁

Yuri:
Totally 😁
But this was a whole different reality: mental zombies like me or worse, all sweaty, tense, confused, with faces like they were about to take an exam in quantum physics.

And I thought: “What kind of madness is this?”
What they were explaining didn’t match the positive emotions I had imagined. I was blocked, frustrated, and worst of all — I didn’t even understand the rules of the game.

Leader? Follower? Leading? Active listening? Body language?
What the hell did they want from me?!

Sergei:
Relax, so you got a little tense. It’s just impossible to understand everything at once.

Yuri:
And meanwhile, you stood in the corner, laughing with a face like: “Relax, it’s all part of the process…”
That was my first “intensive.” I walked out overloaded, irritated, and understanding absolutely nothing. But hey… I survived.

Sergei:
Yeah, looking at you then was like watching a piece of experimental ballet: mesmerizing and disturbing at the same time. But I tried to help — waving my arms, muttering stuff like “this is important, and that — just skip like a YouTube ad.”

Yuri:
Yeah, you really saved me from a total crash. I was just trying not to drown.

Sergei:
Well yeah, by that time I’d reached the enlightenment level of “almost nothing scares me,” and I shared that zen wisdom with you: don’t try to remember everything from a workshop — your brain will run away and your feet will stay behind. Just take what resonates and slowly integrate it into your dance body. Let the rest fly past like a monk’s thoughts.

Yuri:
That mindset really helped me not to give up. Seriously — try to grab everything and you’ll go nuts.

Sergei:
You’re right, an intensive is powerful — but it should be like a good soup: evenly cooked ingredients and no more than three spices. If you throw everything in for all levels — it’s not soup, it’s culinary stress.

Yuri:
Exactly! I left that bootcamp with a stew in my head, not dance wisdom.
So how was it for you?

Sergei:
For me, that intensive was more like revision — like rewatching an old series and suddenly realizing all the key messages were in the first episode.
Experienced dancers always say: “Go back to the basics. That’s where the treasure is.”
But beginners (and not just them) think: “I’ve already got the basics, show me that double spin with a 47-degree head tilt!”

Yuri:
Yep, at first I also wanted flashy moves — then I realized that without basics, it’s just a show without soul.

Sergei:
And that’s when the tragicomedy begins: you know 250 moves, but the follower looks at you like a broken printer — sending signals, but no one knows what they mean.

Because basics aren’t just steps — they’re a language. And if you haven’t learned “hello” and “how are you,” then your dance poems sound like hallucinations.

Yuri:
Haha, exactly! I remember trying to be a “poet” in dance, and the follower just trying to figure out what I was even “saying.”

Sergei:
By the way, followers aren’t supposed to learn combos — how could they know what you’re planning in your head?
They just need to understand your leading dialect and not get lost in the syllables.

Yuri:
Yeah, it’s a real school of patience and mutual understanding.

Sergei:
Alright, we’ve gone full-on dance philosophy here. Back to our story: remember how after that intensive, we started coming out of our dance caves and discovering that Barcelona isn’t just sangria under palm trees — it’s a whole world of people with accents, personalities, and different stride lengths?

Though not many Spaniards — sometimes it felt like Barcelona’s dance community was assembled with a random nationality generator.

Yuri:
Yeah, I remember — at first, it was exciting.

Sergei:
And that’s what made it great — we weren’t just dancing, we were meeting people, communicating, becoming part of this international crowd.

Yuri:
Exactly. Dance became more than just movement — it became a window into another world, where people speak in body language and emotion.

Sergei:
And here’s another thing: even if people start at the same level, over time everyone’s dance path diverges.

Some go deep and train their feet like ninjas, and others just want to relax and have fun. And that’s okay. But the gap affects not just technique — it affects communication. Because once you grow, it gets hard to speak the language of “I just came to have fun.”

Yuri:
Yeah, I’ve felt that too.

Sergei:
But that’s another story — about dance psychology, friendship, and how sometimes it’s easier to change partners than explain where your weight is.

So… what was the next episode in our dance series?

Yuriy:

You dragged me through every corner of Barcelona where Urban and Fusion classes were held. You seemed to have a built-in radar for workshops. And just when I thought I had seen it all… bam! — another one of your sneaky tricks.

I don’t remember exactly if it was at Feeling or Temptation in Lloret — back then I didn’t even know what a festival was. I just remember you called me and pitched the perfect plan:

“Yura, come with me to Lloret, we’ll have a great time, friendly and family-style… and we’ll stop by the hotel too. There’s a pool party, free entrance, you can watch from the side how amazing festivals can be. People from all over the world, all ages, all skin colors, all shapes and sizes... It’ll be a visual and emotional celebration!”

Sergei:
Exactly! I wanted to show you a real festival.

Yuriy:
And you know what? You did the right thing!
What I saw there — I’ll never forget:
A mix of nationalities, different ages, all united by one energy.

What struck me the most was this one scene:
A short elderly Black woman dancing with a tall young white guy.
They were in close embrace, eyes closed, and the bliss on their faces… it looked like drool might start dripping from pure joy.
That was FLOW. That was true connection. That’s the essence of this art.

Sergei:
That’s the magic of dance.

Yuriy:
But… here’s the plot twist.
Turned out this “free entry” had a catch: everyone had wristbands… except me.
And you, cool as ever, when I asked, just said: “They probably got them from the hotel or the festival. Don’t worry. Worst case — they’ll just ask you to leave.”
Thanks for the “reassurance”! 😆

I was sneaking around the pool area like a sparrow without a ticket, dodging the guards, switching sides when they walked by, hiding between sunbeds, even pretending to be one myself 😆

Sergei:
Haha, yeah, it was fun to watch. But I just wanted to show you...

Yuriy:
I get it. Your intentions were good. They always were. And over the years, I’ve learned to be grateful to you for everything. But I also admit: for a long time I carried this inner block, irritation, even anger. Not at you — but at my own inability to understand what was happening, not being able to repeat the step, always tense, nervous, wanting to do everything perfectly.

This path isn’t easy. It’s beautiful, but demanding. And now I understand why many quit right at the beginning, or just start treating it “for fun”:
“If it works — cool. If not — whatever.”
But not me.
I took it seriously.
As if every wrong step was disrespect to the art.

Sergei:
You’re a true fighter. I’m proud of you 😎

Yuriy:
Well, that’s the end of this episode.
My first “visit” to a festival. My first pool party.
A mix of emotions, discoveries, mistakes, and memories that stayed with me forever.
Thank you, my friend!
Thanks for everything you did — the good, and the not-so-good 😆

Sergei:
Don’t mention it, come back anytime! 😆 My intentions were always noble — you just didn’t get it right away 😆

Yuriy:
Oh, I got it… but late! 😆

Sergei:
If I hadn’t dragged you through every back alley of kizomba, you probably wouldn’t even be dancing now, let alone in love with it. So really, I was your first personal survival coach in kizomba!

Yuriy:
I admit it, you were...

Sergei:
What I remember most from that festival — the one I, let’s say, “smuggled” you into through the staff entrance (yes, a secret route, no one knew!) — is that you saw real magic for the first time: emotions, energy, people who live this dance.
I think that’s what fueled you at the start.

Yuriy:
That was my true kizombic baptism.

Sergei:
Honestly, I can’t even remember which festival it was — there have been so many, I feel like I live in the kizomba “Matrix.” But with every new one, new horizons opened for me — and for you too, I’m sure.

Yuriy:
Yeah, each one like its own chapter.

Sergei:
I remember back then my technique was meh, but I already understood it was essential. Still, I tried to learn every combination I saw in workshops. Went to everything, danced during daytime socials between lessons — I thought the more info, the faster I’d become a star.

Yuriy:
I remember — and then you started running me the same way 🤦‍♂️

Sergei:
Back then it never occurred to me that your brain could overheat from so much information. I thought: “More is better!”

By the way, I didn’t think about the followers at all — their feelings, experience? What’s that? I was in “upgrade yourself and everything will be cool” mode. Salsa and bachata taught me that — connection there felt optional.

Yuriy:
Yeah, I used to think the follower was just… decoration.

Sergei:
And no teacher ever really talked about connection. But you know, I started feeling it anyway, without knowing how.
I slowed down to understand: kizomba isn’t just steps and combos — it’s way more nuanced.
If someone had told me back then:
“Guys, your body is an instrument. Training it matters more than memorizing moves. Learn to feel the music and your partner!”
— maybe I’d have run around less like a squirrel in a wheel, and listened to my body more.

Yuriy:
Yeah, but back then we only listened to the teachers.

Sergei:
Like I said, I used to play various musical instruments, music wasn’t a mystery to me. But as it turned out, even if you hear the music, the body often follows its own buggy algorithm — jerking like a glitched robot or lagging behind the beat like a late student.

Yuriy:
Been there. Still glitches sometimes.

Sergei:
Yeah, lots of “hidden bugs” we didn’t know about, and now we have to fix them. The teachers? You had to squeeze knowledge out of them with pliers — and even then it didn’t always work!

That’s where I was at back then. So… shall we continue our adventure timeline?

Yuriy:
Of course. The story’s just warming up!