A clear sign of my cultural schizophrenia, I came to Germany to learn Lindy Hop. Tuck turns and tacky Annies on the Rhine, Markus and Bernd in beanie berets.
The last 5-10 years have seen a Lindy explosion in Europe: hipsters plan their vacactions around festivals, or fly to Como or Zurich for a weekend of master classes with world champions from Sweden (where it all began, I mean, in the Old World). Hop Spot Cologne has 500 friends on Facebook and a professional dance studio devoted to nothing but Lindy. Dancers from Utrecht, Brussels and Berlin regularly turn up at our practices for a night or two while on business in the Rhineland.
In the summer things pick up momentum: dancing biweekly outdoors (once a week with live music) draws attention and inspires usually reserved, privacy-conscious Germans to give us, complete strangers, their email addresses.
Sometimes I realize what a fad I am part of and ask myself why I didn't choose a less ... conventional hobby. But, not only is dancing in my blood, Lindy is a refreshing break from the more stifling aspects of living in Germany. People who wouldn't make eye contact on a train toss each other in the air. A little taste of home imported en masse.
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