Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 August 1882 — DANCING IN MEXICO. [ARTICLE]

DANCING IN MEXICO.

Solemnity of Ball Boom Ceremonies— No Talking Allowed. It must be confessed, writes a correspondent of the New York Times , that a rural “dance ” in New Mexico is a most dismal affair, but that the active participants in such entertainments derive some sort of enjoyment therefrom is proved by the frequency with which bailes are arranged. There is not much preliminary formality about these rural gatherings. Whoever feels the spirit of dancing strong within him engages the services of the village musicians and sends forth word to the neighborhood at large that on a stated night there will be a baile at a given house. Everybody is free to come without further ceremony. There are no restrictions of fashion as to costume. The sheep herder in his patched overalls and cowhide moccasins will bo as welcome as the don in his best attire. Nevertheless, most of the people who attend the baile have done something for the betterment of their customary appearance. The women are dressed in tbe same style of magnificence which we have seen at the horse race, and to their white shirts the men have added paper collars aud bright-colored neckties, the knots of which persist in working around under the wearers’ ears. Mexican etiquette is not strict in demanding washed faces and hands under any circumstances, but there are at least some among the company who have gone through the motions of ablution, and whose complexions are consequently a shade lighter than usual. The ball-room is not imposing either by its size or decorations. Each townlet has some one room which, by reason of its broad floor and superior dimensions, is recognized as the regular place for social festivities. Benches and a few chairs are ranged round the sides, half a dozen candles stuck into bottles and other candelabra improvised for the occasion are fastened to the walls, and then everything is in readiness for the ball to go on. The music is that of a fiddle and an accordion, sometimes of both, when the village rejoices in the musicos. Although the Mexi an musician is self taught, he is often able to produce quite tolerable sounds from his instrument, some allowance being made for the cheap quality of the latter. At all events he plays well enough to content his audience. Except when actually dancing the men and women do not mingle. The women seat themselves at one end of the room, and the men cluster at the other end. Nor is conversation beiween partners in a dance permissible. A Mexican who should see his wife or daughter talking with her partner while dancing would at once suspect that some intrigue was hatching between the pair under cover of the noise of the music and dancers’ feet. Americans who are npt familiar with ways of Mexicans, and those who are aware of the interdiction against conversation but who choose to trespass against the rules are likely to meet with a blunt admonition to the effect that dancing and not talking should be the present business in hand. And the Mexicans themselves dance as if in fact they were engaged in some very grave and rather doleful ceremony. At a note given as a signal by the musician, such men as propose engaging in the quadrille, or whatever may be the dance announced, walk solemnly across the room and hold out each a hand to his chosen partner. Then, in all silence, they take their places on the floor, and the music begins. There is no “calling off” of figures as is the custom among rustic Americans. All the dancers know what to do, and they do it with serious deliberation. Neither dawdling indifference nor frolicsome capering is a habit of Mexican dancing. Sober ponderosity, reminding one of the terpsichorean performances of the trained elephant in a circus, is the prevailing characteristic of the movements of the women as well as the men. The dancers are oppressively observant of time and the proper step, and all move together with the precision of machinery. When the music ceases the lads hand the lasses to their seats with an air as if they were confiding dear friends to the grave, and then return to the men’s part of the room.