Salsa’s real home? It’s Los Angeles

“ONE of the first things that you learn about salsa dancing is that on the count of four you are supposed to stop moving your feet and take a short pause. This syncopated break pushes you to shake the hips, and it can be shortened or stretched according to the mood of the song. The pause is the key to salsa — the very essence of its mystique. On a good night, the pause can make you feel that the entire world has stopped turning.

On a weeknight a few months ago at Mama Juana’s, the cozy Studio City nightclub, I found myself pondering the elusive nature of that very salsa step. During the last 10 years, I had developed a torrid love affair with tropical music, become a Latin music critic and amassed thousands of albums. But my dancing skills were still nonexistent — owing to my innate clumsiness, not to mention a morbid Buenos Aires childhood spent listening to my brother’s Pink Floyd records.”

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