It’s Sunday evening and I’m taking a quick blogging break from the couch I’ve been parked on most of the day. I got a little practice time in this morning, but for the majority of the day I was pumped full of ibuprofen and propped up on my favorite piece of furniture. It’s not my fault. I blame it on Bata.
Yesterday was my first experience with the bata de cola (that blue thing I’m wearing in the photo). Beautiful, yes, but this little ruffled monster isn’t easy to maneuver. I thought the mantón was a beast, but damn … the bata presents a completely different set of challenges.
With the mantón, I was never afraid I was going to trip over it. With the bata, it’s a constant concern. Its train is long, as you can see, and it requires a tremendous amount of skill and strength to move it around properly. Depending on which way you want it to move, you’ve got to lift your leg out and back or back and out (at least that’s what I’ve learned so far), and believe me, it ain’t as easy as it sounds.
You see, Bata is a big, big girl. She’s heavy. She’s wide. And if you measured her from waist to tip, she might be taller than me. My pretty plus-sized girl. Hefty, yes, but she requires a delicate touch. A commanding yet gentle lift and she’ll go willingly and fall gracefully at my feet. A haphazard clumsy kick to her underskirt and she’ll grab hold of my heel and won’t let go till I stumble.
Today I’m feeling the hour’s worth of bata leg lifts we did yesterday. My buns and thighs burn like hell and my lower back isn’t much better. Oh God, it hurts. I guess that means I was doing it right, or at least trying my best to. But I know it’s just part of getting used to a new prop and in a few weeks my body will be used to working with the Big Girl, just like I got used to working my arms and back with the mantón and the castanets.
And now, more Advil.