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Diving into other peoples lives has a tendency to end up in dancing. Although, normally, no form is required. Such diving is how I ended up, with out any expectation, stumble-footing around forró. A very sexual, male dominant tradition. A harmonium, triangle, drum, and voices combine to form fast-paced rhythmic music that fills the room. I ended up quite the gawker, simply observing fast feet, human play, twirling dresses, and man slaying triangle. The next day I was taught the basics in more depth in class, half of which I understood, and half which I didn’t. 
Then comes a test for those advancing their forróing abilities. For girls, the instructor throws, spins, kicks, and leads her around the dance faster, harder, and with some tricks, in which she is being tested on her ability to follow the lead correctly, and with style. For men, the female instructor accompanies lazily, for he is being tested on his ability to dominate the relationship, lead her through the dance, and dictate what happens next. 

Is this the dance of life?

Tourists hide from rain. Pelorinho

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