Northern Marinera 1
She made the sign of the cross and started dressing up. The dress was simple yet beautiful, delicate, elegant. Nothing exaggerated, without those ruffles and excess cloth that left aside the traditional thing to became luxury, and that made dancing more difficult.
She looked at the mirror and smiled, as she made her hair, put the earrings on and got some make up. She was young and beautiful.
She looked at her bare feet. She liked walking barefoot at home and from time to time even in the streets of her neighborhood. She went out without shoes to buy something to the corner's store, her neihborhoods and friends were used to see her that way. She felt more comfortable and happier by leaving her feet free. She even dared some time to go and get back from the beach barefoot, leaving her sandals at home. The ground was hot, really hot, but she could endure it. She liked feeling it like that. It was a shame that in Lima people liked gossip that much. It was more because of shame than other thing that she didn't walk barefoot in the street more often. Were it up to her, she would live barefoot...
She checked the soles of her feet out. They were hard, supple, thick and inured. Years of practice and abuse had turned them into living leather. She liked them like that, strong and tough. It was the best, they allowed her to dance anywhere. Her feet continued being beautiful. They were long and slender, delicate, with graceful toes and high arches. The dust that adhered to her soles, getting them darker, did not but highlight their curves, their shape, their beauty. More of one of her dance partners had admired the beauty of her feet and had told her so. She, coquettish, answered with a "thank you" and a smile. Some had even dared to ask her to let them check her feet. She always agreed on that, and laughed when they were amazed about how hard the soles of her feet were. Real dancer feet. At the beach, her friends bothered her by telling her feet had shoe soles. Envy! She could go and back at the beach and the boardwalk barefoot while they had to put their sandals on, since they couldn't endure the hot sand and ground, ha ha ha!
It was time to leave. It would be outdoors, there was no stage, the dance would be performed on the pavement. There were lots of people. It was noon, in the middle of the Summer. She knew what was waiting for her. It didn't matter, it was worth the pain and she would enjoy it. She went out. Her dark hair shined under the sun. Her face was a full smile. The place for the dance was about 50 metres far from the place she had had her clothes changed. The pavement was extremely hot and it burnt, as it had been absorbing heat all day long. It was coarse, rough and hot. She immediately felt the heat roasting her soles. It hurt. She didn't care, she would continue smiling, walking gracefully, slowly, to the very center, where her partner was already waiting for her. People applauded. They had no idea of how hard it was to walk barefoot on the rough and hot pavement. The music began and her heartbeat become faster. It was her passion, her love, her desire. The dance took control of them.
The flirtation began. The handkerchief made filigrees in the air. Her feet moved slender and gracefully. She strongly rubbed her soles on the coarse, rough hot cement that tormented her feet. She kept smiling, not caring about the pain, it passed into another plane. The music went on and the couple continued swirling and moving, advancing and retiring. People went on applauding, admiring the beauty of the dance, the mastery of the dancers and the young woman's beauty. Her feet moved with grace and wit, her soles were black with the dust of the street. Only her arches remained white and clean. It was really a beautiful vision.
The music stopped. The public roared and applauded. The dancers retired walking slowly towards the improvised dressing rooms. Her feet hurt terribly, as any time she had to dance on places like this. But she didn't care, she was happy, she enjoyed it and she would do it again, over and over. Marinera Norteña was her passion, her love.