The Ball

Several weeks ago I was sitting in the kitchen when my host dad walked in and told my sister and I that we were going to dance classes.  The waltzing kind. Despite the well known fact that I can't dance, I was excited.

For the first class I had no idea what to wear, and after going round and round and thinking very intensely about my dilemma, I decided that jeans and a t-shirt never fails. I slipped on my red Keds because I didn't have anything else. That first class was successful. And by successful I mean I didn't fall over or hurt anything and I could follow most of the dances. The people at the classes ranged in age and were incredibly kind. I enjoyed their company and the lessons continued. I think I improved, although I wastold that I needed to dance more like a fairy and less like a horse. But other than that, I learned several dances and figured out how to waltz.

After about three weeks of twice-weekly lessons everyone started talking about a ball. Like, a real ball, with big poofy dresses, elbow length gloves and lace fans. I was excited until I realized I didn't have a dress. Or gloves, or a fan, or even the right shoes. I thought for sure I'd end up going in my super fashionable trusty red Keds. However, I bought the ticket and thought I'd worry about the dress later. After the dance class, Victoria (the one I had tea with) said she had a dress I could use if I wanted. She had made it herself, and it meant a lot to me that she let me wear it. The skirt was a deep blue trimmed in black lace, complete with a bustle and a train in the back. The corset was a marbled pattern of purples and blues. She gave me a pair of elbow-length gloves and a gorgeous fan, both black lace. I felt well prepared for the ball.

The night of the ball we drove out of the city a ways to the Marine University. It was an interesting building, and like most in Russia, had concrete floors and pale walls. We changed in the locker rooms that opened off of the basketball court. In the ladies' locker room, it was quite crowded to begin with, and once you added all the enormous skirts, in a sea of sequins and silk, it was simply impassable.

Eventually we all trickled out and into the ballroom. I don't know what the room would be used for normally. It was big, with a bar, a balcony that went all the way around three walls, a stage, and on the upper balcony a room that resembled the bridge of a real ship. The dance floor was lined with plush chairs, and there were blue and white decorations on the walls. The ball began with a promenade; everyone paired up and slowly walked around the floor. It was quite the sight, with about sixty couples (and everyone said this was the small ball).

The ball lasted several hours, dance after dance went by. Waltzes, mazurkas, polkas and folk dances, the music played by the live orchestra on the stage. It was something straight out of a fairy tale to see such beautiful girls, dolled up with studded hair pins, satin gloves and stunning gowns, swinging round and round the floor, their skirts swirling out as they spun. It was magical. 

They had a game where everyone was given a piece of paper shaped like a heart, the women gave their heart to whomever they thought was the most handsome man, and the men gave theirs to the most beautiful woman. At the end of the ball, the hearts were counted and the king and queen of the ball were crowned. They danced the final dance as small confetti canons let loose, and glittering sheets of silver and blue paper floated down around them.

It was a wonderful evening, something I never thought I would have ever experienced. It was so interesting to me that such a tradition continues and is very important to their culture. Something so novel to me was perfectly normal for them! I enjoyed dancing, watching and chatting,  There are several balls a month in Vladivostok; the others much bigger than this one. One woman said there were over 300 people at the biggest one. This probably wasn't the only ball I'll attend.

We went home tired and foot sore, but the waltzes played over and over again in my head all night long...