A blond walks into a restaurant....

It all started when I walked into Meli Melo, a restaurant that is part of a cultural and arts center in Coyoacan,  Mexico City.  I went to sit down and order breakfast when a woman began to speak to me in Spanish.  I smiled and let her know that "no hablo espanol", but she would not be deterred.  She led me to another, larger table, filled with Mexican women around my age.  She gestured to me and spoke to one of the women.  

"So you want to take dancing with us," the second woman said in English.

"Oh, no," I replied.  "I just want to have breakfast here."

"What a shame.  Martita thought you were interested in our dancing class."  She spoke rapidly in Spanish to the other women, explaining that no, I didn't want to come and dance with them.  They all looked disappointed.  

"Well, sit down anyway, and have your breakfast with us," the woman said, and all of the other women agreed, nodding, and gesturing to chairs near them.

What could I do?  I sat down.  They wanted to know my name, where I lived, where I was from, how long I had been in Mexico, why I was here, and of course, if I liked their country.

In my terrible Spanish, I attempted to answer....I had been in Mexico for about three weeks, I lived in Coyoacan,  I was currently retired but intended to work again, my husband was studying economics at ITAM, a Mexican University, I was from New York, but not New York City, and I loved, loved, loved Mexico.  And oh yes, my name was Jo Anne, a name that doesn't exist in Mexico.

And then every single woman began to speak...some in English, some in Spanish, many in both languages.  They wanted me to know how happy they were that I loved their country, they wanted me to at least TRY the dance class...it was fun...and they didn't worry about the steps, they just did it for exercise....yes, I could wear sneakers....the first class would be free anyway, why not try it?  The class was two mornings a week, Monday and Wednesday, 9:30 to 11:00.  They hoped to see me.  And was my name really "Jo"?  

I was overwhelmed and couldn't think of any Spanish...or even English!  I explained that I had to have breakfast and study my Spanish, but really, I just didn't want to bother this happy group.  I felt that if I sat with them, the one woman would be forced to translate and people would stop having so much fun.  So, I had breakfast at a nearby table and watched them...laughing, gesturing, telling stories, talking on their cell phones, drinking coffee, eating pastries.  

When they finally got up to leave, they each came and kissed me!  "Goodbye, Jo," each of them said, kissing my cheek.  The woman who spoke the best English urged me, again, to come to dancing the next time.

And that's how I ended up in a Latin Rhythm dance class in a gorgeous old house in the middle of a lush garden across from a very old church in the beautiful Mexico City neighborhood called "Coyoacan", where Frida Kahlo once lived. That is just what Mexico does to you.  It reaches out and grabs you.  It lets you know that you are welcome.  That you don't have to be perfect, you just have to want to enjoy yourself.  That there are people just waiting to become friends.  And it always leaves you with a kiss.