Ballet on the Beach....

Here they are.

I was just down on the beach. It still wasn't sunny, but it had been raining for days and I needed to do something. I needed to move.

I was mostly just fooling around and spacing into my own world.

So I did some handstands. Stretches. Cartwheels. Yoga poses. Ballet turns.

Leaps and jumps.

Just something to remind me of my body's strengths and capabilities. That I'm alive.

Then I noticed him.

He was sort of mimicking me. And I think at first it was a joke. But he sure was trying hard.

So I showed him what I was doing. I exaplined in broken Spanish, which was nearly a match with his native Portugese. Between that and his broken English we were in business.

At first his friends mocked him. I could tell even across languages and colors that this kid was being teased in a major way.

But then they joined in.

And he kept on going.

There was none of the usual. No begging. No whining. They asked for nothing but to learn.

I taught what my body knew. No music. Few words. Movement. Connection.

All of a sudden, on the beaches of Mozambique, I'm teaching classical ballet. I haven't practiced for years, but it's all still there.

I forgot I knew it but it came right back. I didn't know I had anything to give, but I found something. I forgot I had it, but it matters to them.

We danced. It was breathtaking.

They were amazing. Moments like these are why I remain in Africa. I am so grateful.

Photography by Adryan Caron.