Tasleem: I was reading about how you first hated bachata music. I can't even imagine it, now that I've seen how much passion you have for it and the dance. What kind of music did you grow up with, or like, before you started liking bachata?

Carlos: Before bachata, I was listening to a lot of jazz, easy listening music - artists like Acoustic Alchemy, and a lot of Cirque du Soleil. I also listened to some R&B, the Oldies, the Dusties, a little bit of hip hop, a little bit of Tupac. I didn't actually hear my first salsa song until 2001, ten years ago. I had never even heard that music before. And when I first heard bachata, I couldn't stand it. The ‘twangy' noise of the guitar - it was just… ugggh! It was horrible. I didn't like it at all.

What about your family background from Ghana and Mexico? Was there music that you grew up with from those cultures?

No, no. Actually, my dad's a musician, but I don't know him. It was just me and my mom, and my grandparents. And my mom listened to this one station called WNUA 95.5 (sings the slogan song, and laughs).

It was smooth jazz, easy listening type of music. That's all she listened to, and so that's what I listened to. They played artists like Yanni. I love Yanni, and Tracy Chapman, Everything But the Girl, Madonna, Michael Jackson and the Police. Oh, and one classic song that still gets me fired up is George Michael's Jesus to a Child. And I love Journey (starts singing Send Her My Love) - Great song (smiles).

Wow! I wouldn't have imagined.

Whoah, YEAH! And that Journey song? – THAT'S my song. You play that, and everyone has to be quiet. No talking allowed (laughs).

I often jokingly say that I'm the voice for the Dominicans. Alex Morel, a dancer from Caribbean Soul, in Jersey, said it well when he said that Dominicans just call it bachata, or bachata music. To everybody else, it's broken down into Dominican style, and the side to side style, which is more modern or whatever. But ‘Dominican style' to a Dominican is just bachata, because that's where it comes from, that's where it originated. So saying ‘Domican style bachata' is kind of repetitive. It's like saying Japanese style sushi.

And how it branched off into modern, and bachatango, and urban bachata and all that other stuff - with the side to side steps - I have no idea. Some people think that Dominicans do not support the modern bachata style, because they don't like it. But I was talking to one of my Dominican friends, and he was saying, “It's not that we don't like it, it's just not bachata.” Dominicans may watch it, and they may respect it, and think, okay, that's cool. But to them, that's not what bachata is. And so what I think is being lost is the history, the culture, the tradition of the Dominican Republic, the struggle and the roots of the music - how it started and how the people grew up.

Whether it's modern or Dominican or … that's up to you. But at least get to know how it started, or what the original form looks like. If we don't do that, then shame on us for not knowing any better. Whether you choose to dance that style or not, it's up to you. But at least you should know what it really looked like. It's always going to evolve, which is fine, but to not even recognize the real bachata dance as bachata? Ay ay ay (shakes his head).

The article you handed out yesterday was definitely eye opening as well - the way it explained how the word bachata evolved, and how it used to have negative connotations associated with it in the past. The people of the Dominican Republic had to fight to make it be recognized and respected, to make the music and that part of their culture be looked at positively. This reinforced the importance of us knowing the history of the dance - where it came from and what the dance looks like in its true form. Otherwise, it feels as if we are adding to the negativity, or the lack of recognition, that the people and the dance and the word were associated with in the past.

The guy that wrote the article - Adam Taub - he's a good friend of mine. And I like to pick his brain about bachata. He's the one who's inspired me in the bachata world. And just being around him and the artists, and being around the musicians, has been a huge learning experience for me. Also, when I was living in San Diego, being around real ‘Dominican Dominicans', from the island, who ended up in San Diego for one reason or another, was ..wow! When you're around a certain culture and you see how THEY react to their own music, it's a whole different thing than when somebody that is not part of that culture dances to their music. When you see Dominicans dance to their music, and you see how they feel, it's… whoah! It's totally different. That changed my whole outlook on things.

When I interviewed Eddie Torres, he was explaining how this girl, when he was very young, didn't dance with him because he couldn't dance Latin style the way she could. And she turned him down for a dance. And that was the first spark that led him to wanting to learn to dance Latin, to dance salsa. And now he's world renowned, teaching others, inspiring others. And I remember wondering what that girl feels like now. She must be kicking herself (laughs). You had said that it was because of a girl you were dating that you got introduced to the bachata dance that you now love. I wonder how she feels now, if she is surprised at where you've taken it now. I mean, do you guys keep in touch? Did she have any idea where that introduction to the dance would lead you?

No, we don't keep in touch. At the time, she only cared about herself (laughs). She was just the reason why I started dancing. We would go out and we were together at the time, and she would be dancing all over the place all night long, and I would just be sitting in the corner on a chair, looking like an idiot (laughs). But at first, I just wanted to learn so I could dance with my girl, you know?

I started taking classes, but there are a lot of studios that do things for the money and not because they genuinely care about making you a better dancer. That's just my opinion. They don't always care whether you learn the steps or not. If you don't, then you just have to sign up for the next course, so it's good for them.

Did you start learning bachata first?

I went to one studio when I first started learning. I started with salsa. It was okay. I found bachata easier to dance, so I picked up on it quicker. I did two months of that. And in the studio classes, you can only go as fast as the class is going. What I noticed was that we were doing the same thing month after month, and I thought, this is costing me money here, you know. Could we pick it up a little bit? (laughs)

And everybody learns different, you know? Some people learn faster than others. I started to pick up on a pattern - that everything we were doing was going in a four count beat, and everything that we were learning, the instructor either made it up himself, or he learned from somebody else.

The moves that I would do, with my partner at the time, caught some of my friends' attentions. I had a couple of friends who I kind of liked the moves. So they would say, “Hey, what was that? Show me how to do that!” I was living with my grandmother at the time, and my friends would come over to my grandma's house, and we'd be in the basement, playing music and just breaking down moves, and I would show them what I created.

And they would tell me “You should start teaching.” And I would say, “WHAT??? Why would I teach? I'm not a trained dancer.” I hadn't been dancing long at that time, but they kept telling me I should teach, I should teach. And I kept telling them they were crazy (laughs).

And obviously, something eventually convinced you to do it?

Those friends and I had another mutual friend. She was teaching salsa in a small family Mexican restaurant on Friday nights. My friends told her about me. And we all knew each other, so she said, “Hey, you should come teach with me.”

But I told her I wasn't going to teach salsa, because there are a million and five salsa instructors out there. “But I can help you with bachata,” I told her, because at the time, in 2005, bachata wasn't really big. Nobody was really teaching it. It was all salsa, salsa, salsa, salsa.

She told me she'd wanted to teach bachata anyway, so what ended up happening was the class was half salsa and half bachata. And then I just started to like it, you know? The people I'd meet, people that I'd never associate with, on a normal day to day basis, now were in the dance class. And you just create friendships and bonds with people of all different professions and backgrounds.

I just started to enjoy it. And that's how I started teaching. I then started looking for more teaching gigs.
In 2006, I moved to San Diego. I was confident enough in my dancing and my teaching ability by then, so I knew that it was just a matter of time before I would find an opportunity to teach. My plan was to dance with this particular dance instructor who I knew was one of the only bachata teachers in the area, and that the rest would take care of itself. And it worked, so we started teaching together and that kind of got me in the scene, teaching in San Diego, and things took off from there.

Tasleem: I was really impressed at how clearly you explain things in your workshops, and how well you break things down. You're also very entertaining and keep your students engaged with your sense of humor and creativity in your lessons. Were you doing something before teaching bachata that helped you gain those skills? Did you have mentors and teachers who taught you how to present things this way? Where do you think your teaching ability came from?

Carlos: It goes back to when I was playing football. My coaches, especially my college coach, were very detailed-oriented people. Everything for that coach was about details. For example, he taught us that whether your shoulders are square to the line, or whether they're tilted just a little bit, will make the entire difference in your game. So when we'd be watching film, he would dissect everything.

I'm also a perfectionist. I don't like to make mistakes. I'm my hardest critic. So I could go through a drill perfectly. But if I stumbled on accident, I would do it over again. And I've been like that ever since high school, and probably younger. I want to be perfect in everything I do.

And how did you apply this to teaching dance?

First, I think about if I can understand what I'm explaining myself. That's one thing. And then I think, okay, how will this other person understand it? I tell people that when I'm learning something, talk to me like I'm stupid. Talk to me like I'm two years old. Break it down for me. Because then, I'll understand it. If you start using big, technical words, you're complicating things. I learn best when things are made simple. Everybody learns different. But when you speak so that everyone can understand it, everything is clear. I'm really big on that.

There are teachers and tellers. A teacher will teach you how to do it, why and how you're doing what you're doing. They're not just going to TELL you what to do. If they just tell you what to do, as soon as the class is over, you're not going to know what to do without them. You'll know the move, but you will think, damn, how do I do it again? You're a robot then. That's no good.

How do you make sure your lessons are clear?

I guess I've always been really anal about how clear the instruction is. Before I do a certain lesson, I'll go through a practice run with a friend. “Did it work? Was my lead clear? Does it make sense?” I ask them. And depending on what the person says, I have to figure out a way to adjust it. And then I'll constantly go over it and over it and over it, so that way it's muscle memory, and I'll remember where I went wrong. And if I get it wrong, then how can I expect the people in my class to get it right?

So I know where the sticky parts are, and I think of a way to fine tune it so it's clearer. And really, I'm just passing on what I learn and create. I'm humbled that people even want to learn from me, because again, this was never my plan. It kind of happened on accident. It's God's plan, or however you want to look at it, but it was never my plan. If it was up to me, I'd be up on that TV right now (points to the television screen above us), playing football.

Awww… (smiles).

Yeah, that's a whole other story (smiles). But you know, God had another plan for me, and I'm just living it.

Carlos Cinta's Feel Music workshop at the Dallas Bachata Festival: Bad guy vs Good guy. A humourous demonstration of a bad guy and good guy way of feeling (or not feeling) the music.

Your musicality workshop was so well put together - teaching us about the five instruments that make up bachata music, and allowing us to feel and hear each instrument together and separately. That was brilliant and so memorable. But I was surprised to hear that you don't play any instruments yourself. You have such a great understanding and ear for them.

I've always been able to hear different sounds in the music. And I think it's from listening to music like all the Cirque du Soleil pieces and Yanni. There are so many parts in those bands or orchestras, and I've always listened deeply to the music. I can sit in my car, and sit in the driveway for hours, put the music up and dissect it in my head. I can just really zone in to all the sounds, and close my eyes, and the next thing you know, an hour later, I'm like, “Oh gosh! I gotta go inside, or it's time to go to bed.” I've always been listening to music deeply. I don't know how that started, I just enjoy it.

So if you had the choice to play any instrument, which one would it be and why?

This is the thing that I regret about not having my dad around - learning how to play music. That's the one thing I guess I would like to learn from him.

If I could play one instrument, well, the guira is my favorite. But it's so hard to play (laughs). I like the bass too, because I really feel the bass. But my left fingers don't work like my right fingers do, maybe because I'm right handed.

So if you could describe yourself – your personality, who you are - as a musical instrument, which instrument would Carlos Cinta be?

If I were any instrument, I would be a guira, rough on the edges (laughs), feisty, scrappy, and not having to be too structured. Again, I don't like to be told what to do. I could be as creative as I want as a guira (laughs).

You create a lot of your own moves. Do you have a favorite one?

You know, sometimes, when you start to do so many moves, you forget them. That happens with me a lot. But for some reason, the Araña is the one that people like the most. I tend to do that a lot. The slide step that we did today, I tend to do that one a lot too. It's what I find most common. The sliding and the syncopations (the Dominicano syncopations) are the most common in D.R. (Dominican Republic). But again, if you just watch Dominicans dance, there are so many little, LITTLE intricate things they do with their feet. You just think, wow! It's so cool.

A lot of moves that I create kind of happen on accident. Sometimes, it's just something the music makes me do, and other times, a few of us mess around together, play games like who can be the silliest? Who can make up the silliest move? And sometimes, it comes out good, and someone says, “Hey, what was that? Do that again. That was pretty cool. I like that.” (smiles)

So, I like the Araña, and I like Da Chi Town.

That's my favorite - Da Chi Town! (smiles)

Yeah, I know (laughs). That was one of the new ones I did. I have no idea how that came up. I have absolutely no idea. But I named it after the place I'm from - Chicago. I do that often- naming a move after the place I was in when I created it. It helps me remember the move. But I don't like to teach what other people teach. People do that a lot. I don't like that. Not my thing. That's THEIR move. But then again, that's just me. I might LIKE other people's moves, but I won't teach them. What's the point? I might as well teach your whole lesson plan then.

No. I like to be creative and come up with my own stuff. It's kind of how I am, you know? I'm going to teach YOUR stuff? No. There's something about that that rubs me the wrong way. I don't do it. Wherever I go, I try to teach my own original stuff.

It sounds like you've been to a few places since February. Is there any place that really stood out to you because of the dancing, the students, or the city?

Oh, jeez! (smiles) Some of my favorite places, in no particular order, are Finland, Poland, Australia and New Zealand. I like Japan too (smiles). Not to say that everywhere else I've been hasn't been a good experience, or I didn't like the people or anything.

But those first four places, I've been there the most times. So that's probably why I feel the most at home there. And I guess I have more memories of those countries, so to speak.

Ahhh man. It's really just amazing when different cultures make you feel so welcome, like you're family. They take care of you, they look out for you, and they support…OH MY GOSH, Finland supports! The first time I went there? 87 people showed up in the workshop! (smiles) EIGHTY SEVEN PEOPLE! And I thought, “You're all here to see ME? Are you guys crazy?” (laughs) I didn't expect that. It was just so humbling. Most of the time, there's fifteen, twenty, thirty, or maybe forty people in the workshops. But EIGHTY SEVEN were there for both days! WOW!

I try to do the best I can when I go to another city. That's why I'm always prepared with my notes, and I go over things many times. I also make sure I get a good night's sleep and a good meal in the morning, before my workshops, because I don't want to waste people's time. They are taking time out of their day, they're spending their money that they work for, to learn something from me. I can't go in there and do a half-ass job, or not care. No. I try to take care of the people that support me. I want to give them my best.

Going back to Adam Taub's article about bachata, he began the piece by discussing how the term bachata changed over time. And then he concluded the article by commenting that bachata has come to mean different things to different people. So my last question for you is after all the traveling and workshops, and now that you have acquired a love for this dance which you are sharing with other people, what does bachata mean to you personally?

Hmmm… wow. That's a tough one. What does bachata mean to me? To be honest, I have no idea how to answer that question, because so many different things come to mind.

I think… it's… a big responsibility. I mean, to me, because of the style that I teach, the way I want to teach it - going back to the traditional way, going back to the roots - bachata means representing something, or being a voice of a certain kind of people. And when you're the voice of a certain group of people, that's huge because you need to really learn and analyze, but also ensure you are being respectful, and that you are not misrepresenting information or the culture. You'd be surprised at how many Dominican people tell me, “You are actually teaching the REAL stuff, you know?” They say, “Oh man, I'm glad you said this, or I'm glad you said that, because you're helping other people understand what we really do or do not do.”

So it's not necessarily pressure, but I feel that I have the responsibility to do a job right. Not that the other styles of bachata are wrong, but I'm just representing the old school, traditional bachata, and I want to do it right.

But if you're going to call it Dominican bachata, you should be dancing it looking like you're on the island of the Dominican Republic and you've been there your whole life. That's just my opinion. You should be able to blend in with them, and they shouldn't have to ask you, “Where are you from?” They should feel like you're one of them, if you're dancing the authentic style.

I started out teaching modern bachata. That's what I started learning and teaching. But since the ‘the Dominican style' of bachata, the traditional style, is what I fell in love with, what I have a passion for, I feel that it is my responsibility to represent it right, to do it how they dance out there. It's not the NEW style, it's the original style. It's what's been there since day one. I feel that it's my responsibility, if I'm representing a certain culture, to represent it the right way, and to ask questions about the culture, ask questions, analyze, and watch them dance. I see how they do it and then mimic similar movements with less flash, because with Dominican dancing, there's nothing flashy about it at all.

So if I start doing back flips, Dominicans are going to say, “That's not how we dance, so don't call that Dominican style.” You can say that's Carlos' style, but if you say it's Dominican style, you should look like a Dominican in your dancing. If you say this is Carlos' style, you can put whatever the heck you want in it, because that's how I might dance. If that's my style of dance, no problem. But you can't cross the line and mix both of them. I mean you CAN, but to the people of that tradition, of that culture… well, you don't want to offend anybody, you know?

So I guess that's what bachata means to me.

I still don't think I answered the question.

What??? (laughs). You just did. And it was a GOOD answer (smiles)

WAS that a good answer? Did that work out? (smiles)

It was a great answer. It was a really great answer. (smiles).

(A few hours later that evening, at the social, Carlos was still convinced that he had not answered the question yet - about what bachata means to him. He was still thinking deeply about it. I laughed. But actually, I think this is just further testament to how passionate he really is about the dance, and how seriously he takes his responsibilities not just as a teacher, but as a voice and inspiration to other people).

For more information about Carlos, visit his webste carloscinta.com