Well, I survived my first full week of work. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all. In addition to finally getting my Bates email and other network privileges, I was able to meet some interesting folks from the community thanks to my immediate supervisor who is making a great effort to make me feel at home here.

When we stopped by the public library earlier in the week I spoke with a woman who used to work at Bates but quit to become the program director of library events. I was handed a flier and enjoined to come to a “Contra Dance” that Friday. Of course, I had no idea what a contra dance was, but once I looked online, I’ll admit that my interest was piqued. Of course I had my doubts, though; my friend Chris and I have this style of dancing that can only be described as eschewing any real style, so the thought of going to the public library on a Friday night to dance a highly ritualized dance with a bunch of strangers fell a bit outside of my comfort zone. Luckily, however, I was able to rope in my current roommate, and thus at 8 we set out downtown.

As we entered the library we could hear a commotion upstairs. Upon climbing the staircase, we found a beautiful small ballroom. As it turns out, many of the office buildings in downtown Lewiston contain this feature, a vestige from a more old-fashioned time when community dances were more popular. This ballroom had been modernized and had a gleaming wood floor, projector/sound system, and air conditioning. The crowd was a mix of people ranging from 15 – 70 year old. Soon after we arrived the event got going as the caller, (the guy who describes how to do the dances before and during the music) asked us to form two long lines, facing across from our partner. After introducing the band, which consisted mostly of fiddlers and drummers he got right into describing the first dance.

Working in pairs and groups of 4 throughout the dance, we learned a series of repeated patterns. Basically, you would repeat a pattern with your partner and immediate neighbors to the right and then cycle, slowly moving either to the front or rear of the line; once a cycle was completed, i.e. you ended up where you started, the dance ended. Although I was at first daunted, I did get the hang of most of the moves. Thankfully the crowd was very accommodating. As I was to find out throughout the night, there was a healthy mix of novices and seasoned contra dancers that evening. I participated in 4 subsequent dances, one of which was a circle based dance where you got to dance with everyone else, kind of a mixer. There was only one dance were I just didn’t get it, but after being a bit dejected, I tried one more and was more successful.

All in all it was a cool evening. I spoke with some of the participants, including a young girl with a nose-ring who was a supportive partner and an older woman from California who liked to contra dance whenever she was in New England. It was a fun, eclectic crowd, and I’m glad I went. As we headed home, my roommate said that he too was glad, because every time he moves somewhere new, he likes to try something that is beyond his normal bounds of familiarity. I couldn’t agree more, and who knows, I may try it again soon.

Thanks for your supportive comments and remonstrances, both were needed… Anyway, I am better now, so much so that today on the way back from a hike I stopped by a roadside BBQ place and had a pulled pork sandwich! Below you’ll see some photos from that hike where, atop a small mountain, stands an abandoned fire tower. The cool part is that it’s open, all the way to the top!

On another note, someone in the neighborhood has a little yappy dog; I’m not sure where this dog resides but I’m glad I don’t. At night, beginning at around 8, he will start his nightlong yap fest. It’s especially annoying because it is not a constant yap, but rather sporadic yet predictable, like a certain windshield wiper setting. Being that it is summer and my humble abode is without air conditioning, every now and then this high pitched “yap yap yap yap” comes floating into the apartment. I’m reminded of our late family dog, an Akita. Although he had his issues (bit multiple friends/relatives, etc.) he was never unnecessarily vocal; when Lucky barked you knew that something was up, usually a stranger approaching the front door.

Thus I’m lead to wonder about the apartment in which this little yappy thing resides. Do its owners find the nightly yapping an endearing trait? Or is it that they are all sitting in a circle engaging in the nightly 5 hour long “spin the dog” session, thus causing the poor thing to yelp anew in fear each time it is whirled among familiar yet cruel faces in the dizzying smoke filled candlelit room? Who knows? Seems like in this town, anything is possible; indeed I’ve found myself humming tunes from Twin Peaks while driving around. Still looking for the white lodge…