Two years ago, Kuriko left a comment on one of my articles and suggested that we connect because our work–mine with casino and hers with bachata–intersected. When I went to her YouTube channel, it took me just reading the title of one of her videos to know that we were on the same wavelength. This time it was me who left a comment. However, it wasn’t until recently, when I saw a video of Kuriko dancing casino and shared it on the blog’s Facebook page, that we reconnected.
From the beginning, I knew I wanted to interview Kuriko because she offered a different perspective than mine. She and I had come to the same conclusions about the state of Latin American dances outside of their original contexts, but while my conclusions stemmed from being able to easily tell when things from my culture are not what they are “supposed to be”, Kuriko did so despite being an outsider. For me, it was important that people knew the journey of someone who has managed, from a very different experience than mine, to understand casino, respect it for what it is rather than what the market wants it to be, and of course: enjoy it.
And if she has done it, others can too.
DL: Tell me about yourself. For those who don’t know you, who are you and how did you become interested in social dancing?”
KJ: My name is Kuriko, I’m Japanese-German, that’s why I chose the stage name “La JapoMana”. Who am I? That’s a good question. I’m a traveler, an artist, a philosopher, a mentor, and I’m a messenger of Latin American dance cultures. I dedicate myself to Latin American dances, mainly teaching Bachata and Merengue and also a bit of Casino/Cuban Salsa. Always with the intention of spreading the essence of dances through cultural context.
How did I become interested in social dances?
Better to say: I became interested in Latin American social dances. I’ve always loved dancing, and I did ballet as a child, but I had to stop for personal reasons. After quitting ballet, it was very difficult to find a dance I liked, but I never stopped searching.
I grew up in a town in Germany, and when I was a teenager, it was very common for students to take social dance classes–ballroom ones, that is–as a social activity outside of school. However, that never interested me because, first, at that age, I didn’t want to dance with boys, and second, it seemed boring and rigid to me, and it didn’t catch my attention. Then, when I went to England to study, I took a Swing or Lindyhop class (I don’t remember the correct name anymore). That was the first time I understood that partner dances could be fun. Maybe it was because I was 20 years old by then, and also because I liked the energy of those dances.
Right after that experience, I went to Spain, to Salamanca, for a 6-month exchange program. It was there that I first encountered Salsa, Bachata, and Merengue, and I fell in love immediately. I knew that’s what I wanted to dance, and that I wanted to dance like Latinos!
That was 18 years ago, and since then, I’ve never stopped dancing.
DL: Tell me a bit about who you are on social media and what your purpose is there. I remember I met you because I saw a video on your YouTube channel where you talked about authenticity in Latin American social dances. What made you transition from being someone who simply enjoyed dancing to someone who actively seeks to inform/educate people online?
KJ: On social media, I’m known as: a lover of Dominican and Cuban dances, as someone who fights for the justice of Afro-Latin dance cultures, an activist spreading truth and dispelling misconceptions about Latin American dances, an inspirer and motivator to create communities around these dances, and also to encourage people to dance more authentically, both culturally and personally.
My purpose is to spread awareness about the authenticity of Latin American dances and their cultures, normalize conversations about these topics, and see authentic dances flourish in the dance world to the point where it’s normal and easy to find more venues and dancers who love and respect these dances. I aim to inspire and motivate people to live and dance authentically and honestly, without succumbing to systemic pressures; to educate people on how these dances truly feel, and that in these authentic dances, one can find not only answers to dancing better but also to living better.
We can’t change the situation, and there will always be something modified/commercialized/far from the original, but I always use sushi as an analogy. Everyone knows where sushi comes from, and it’s very common for people to wonder what sushi would be like in Japan because, of course, sushi in other countries is already heavily modified and not as authentic. In the world of dance, many ignore this aspect. It’s such a simple conversation when it comes to food… Why can’t we do the same with dance? Dance is the embodiment and expression of culture, just like food.
Without understanding these cultural aspects, one will never fully experience a dance. It saddens me to think about how much people are missing out on by not having that cultural, authentic, and rich experience! Not only that, but the worst part is that I know plenty of people who literally “suffer” from these “commercial” dances simply because they are unaware of the existence of authentic ones, because what usually sells is something fake.
We live in such a competitive world–now even worse because of social media–that we forget the essences of dances. That’s why I want to share my experiences and knowledge about dances through the feelings of each dance. And those feelings can only be understood through culture and feeling it, living it with people from the same culture.
DL: Tell me about how this dance journey and activism you’ve embarked on began.
KJ: It’s a long story, but it all started with my journey with Bachata.
When my dance journey began, at first I knew nothing, neither about the rhythms nor about the dances’ countries of origin, so I was ignorant like everyone who starts. When I understood that there are various types of “Salsa”, it was obvious to me that I liked “Cuban Salsa” because I felt the culture and the closeness to authenticity. But as I am and have always been a empirical dancer, I learn everything by feeling it.
While developing my passion for Salsa, Bachata never sat well with me; in fact, when the music came on, it was always my time to go to the bathroom. At that time (2006, 2008), there were no “Dominican Bachata,” “Sensual Bachata,” or “Modern Bachata.” The dance was simply known as BACHATA, period. But now looking back, I would call it “Modern (Bachata)”; that’s what was danced at that time.
Look, I absolutely disliked that dance and I couldn’t understand at all how the dance could look so ugly when the music is so beautiful. I mean, I did like the music, but not the dance, referring to the “Bachata” of the Americans. Now it makes sense because what I was seeing was the “Modern (Bachata)”, well, it wasn’t the authentic thing I knew but a modified version, or worse: simply misinterpreted by foreigners because it’s very different from the original–and the “Sensual (Bachata)”…even further away! It was thanks to my contact with Dominicans that I found the truly beautiful way–the authentic (Bachata). Indeed, what changed my relationship with Bachata was getting to know Dominican culture and learning to feel the music and the dance.
I owe that unique experience to my ex-partner, who is Dominican.
We met in Germany and were together for 5 years. With him, I lived in a Dominican bubble from day one. At first, I didn’t understand well what he did differently, but I did notice that something was different in his dance. He couldn’t explain to me what it was, but he knew my weak points very well and could criticize me. Guided only by his comments, I had to understand, feel, and adapt to his way of dancing.
It was also thanks to him that I learned to feel Casino. As he learned Casino with his Cuban friends, he would also guide me in certain things. (Speaking of Casino, I also want to give credit to my two Cuban friends who showed me their culture and the feeling of Casino.)
In those 5 years with my ex-partner, I lived the culture, felt the dances and the music, and learned how to listen to the music. Since I danced almost exclusively with him, after the relationship ended, when I started dancing with different people, that’s when I realized that the “Bachata” everyone else danced was very different from what I learned to feel with him.
I mentioned earlier that the basis of my dance journey is that I am an empirical dancer, meaning I mainly learned by dancing on the dance floor and feeling, with little-to-no attendance to classes–as a follower (woman). Sometimes I attended some workshops held before parties, but I always found it difficult to understand the explanations, and I didn’t know how to count either. So my process of learning and developing my dance awareness was slow because I didn’t have anyone to ask. But it was thanks to that experience that I learned it with my body. In fact I refused to go to dance schools, because I didn’t want to end up dancing like the students in Germany. Instead I wanted to dance naturally and authentically–like the Latinos.
When I started teaching Bachata classes 6 years ago, that’s when I began taking Casino classes to learn to lead, I took Rumba and Afro-Cuban styles dance classes, and of course, I deepened my awareness and movements also in Bachata at various Bachata festivals (exclusively Dominican) and through private lessons, including traveling to Cuba and the Dominican Republic.
It’s very important for me as an instructor to improve my dance and dance as authentically as possible. I believe that in these past 6 years, I have learned a lot, changed my way of dancing considerably, and expanded my awareness significantly.
Dancing with the “regular” public after that relationship was like a cultural shock but in reverse: I couldn’t dance anymore–or rather, I didn’t want to dance–with people. I was then left with a resistance to dancing that type of “Bachata.” I was confused and frustrated.
I hardly danced Bachata from then on until, one day, a friend asked me if I wanted to teach a “Dominican Bachata” course with him, and instantly, I knew that’s what I wanted to do even though I’m a bit shy and don’t like speaking in front of people. Even though I didn’t know how to count and had never taught dancing before, I took a leap of faith, and I loved it from the first class. It was at that moment when I had like a revelation or a message from the universe: I want to spread Bachata as it is to the whole world!
That’s how everything began.
Through my story, I understood that the international dance world has practically changed all types of dances that come from Afro-Latin cultures, meaning cultures outside of the first world countries and white cultures, for their benefit without giving credit or respect to the origins. What began with Bachata was nothing more than a beginning of sharing what I have learned and discovered, and continue to learn and discover.
DL: Previously, you mentioned that you were “an activist for spreading the truth and dispelling misunderstandings about Latin American dances.” Tell me a bit about those “misunderstandings” you mentioned. What are the most common ones?
KJ: I can say that injustice toward culture, not only Dominican but Afro-Latin culture in general, and the great confusion in the world about them, are things I have experienced myself.
I am Japanese-German. I was born and raised in Germany. Although I have almost never experienced any racism, I understand very well the frustration and anger when people misunderstand your own culture and do not respect it. I am mainly talking about the ignorance of Europeans toward Japanese culture, with which I have always identified more than my German side. I have always been proud of my Japanese roots and being mixed. It is only recently that I have begun to accept more and more my German side as well, but I have always been aware of my identity. I believe that’s where my strong emotions toward cultural identities come from, my desires to express and explain to people the feelings of cultures, and curiosity to learn from other cultures.
Having experienced Latin American cultures and knowing how the dances feel, and having that personal background, it was impossible for me to ignore the things I saw.
The most common misunderstandings of Latin American dances are that most of the dances sold in the dance world are not authentic. They are services and dance forms catered to European/Western/American cultures, changed and sometimes even deformed from their original form, just to please non-Latin people–and to do business, like everything in the world.
What we often think are Latin American dances are not always, unfortunately.
Moreover, we are consuming those dances many times as fitness/sports without feeling and living them.
At this point, I want to mention that I am not an exception and I am not perfect, either. No. I also lived and consumed in that system, and even now I am not so pure either. I am not the most authentic person and dancer just because I talk about these topics, but it is my intention and my aspiration to get closer to those cultures and do my best to continue learning and developing. Especially as an instructor, it is my responsibility to talk about the truth.
In the end, everyone chooses a dance style they like. There is nothing wrong with wanting a commercialized style–who am I to judge? But I see it as terrible to pretend something and change a culture so much and not even realize it as a consumer, and worse: as a person in a position of authority, such as instructors, DJs, etc. It is very important to educate and spread the truth, because these cultures deserve to be respected, otherwise we continue with colonialism.
DL: I think you make a great point: the intention should be to approach cultures, not to modify them to fit into a worldview that often falls into stereotypes, exoticisms, and fantasies. I have researched extensively on the topic of the transition of Latin American dances to European countries and the USA. And with all of them, the same thing happens as you describe it. The dances become a reflection of the market and the desires of the consumer who knows little (or nothing) about the culture they consume, not a replica of how they are danced in their countries of origin.
Now, let me ask you more specifically about the casino. What modifications have you noticed that the dance of casino has undergone under the European/U.S. market?
KJ: Honestly, I myself am in the process of discovering the details and learning and understanding more and more about the culture, so I will never stop learning.
That’s why I go to Cuba whenever I can in order to better understand the culture and deepen my knowledge. Learning with the people of the culture has always helped me a lot to analyze the dances, the music, and to improve my dance expression.
But there are certain things that are quite obvious to me, which are points that I have learned through my own experiences and conversations with various people, both Cubans and foreigners, all passionate about Cuban culture.
For me, Casino has at least 3 essential characteristics: walking, displacement, and ” teasing the woman/the follower” (this is an expression borrowed from my friend’s husband who is Cuban, and I think it’s on point).
While developing my own awareness of dance, I have been noticing for some time now that in the “modifications,” those essential points are missing.
There is not as much walking, or often hardly any walking at all. In many dances, there isn’t even a guapea–or rather “pa ti pa mi,” as I learned from reading your blog (other modifications). there are many spins, too many tricks, a lack of connection because of those same tricks, and more focus on putting on a show rather than feeling and developing a connection with the partner.
Other modifications that I find are the fusions. For example, mixing tricks from Salsa NY/LA, and mannerisms/styling.
But let me tell you something, Daybert. I told you that I am still in the process of understanding everything better. I am not the most authentic dancer either, and I myself am confused, and there were many things that I later found out were modifications. For example, mixing rumba or Orishas in Casino. That is no longer Casino, but “Cuban Salsa” or “Timba.”
I know Timba is the name of the music and not of the dance. Before, there was no “Timba,” but now that name seems to be more common outside of Cuba. I don’t like normalizing names that are invented outside of Cuba, but at the same time, I have to recognize what I am doing, that not everything I do and everything I like is authentic. I need to take responsibility and be honest with myself, not only because it is what I spread, but mainly as an instructor as well.
Sometimes I dance a style of Cuban Salsa or “Timba,” and I use that name on purpose because I know that it is not always Casino that I dance, but I enjoy it anyway. At the same time, I do want to dance more authentically, and I always want to respect the culture. So, many times, I find myself conflicted about that.
Another thing I want to mention is that these modifications are not only seen outside of Cuba or with foreigners but also with Cubans themselves in the same country. It is mainly the instructors who have adapted to the foreign market, not only outside the country but also inside. (That’s also what you mention in your blog, by the way.)
That’s why my curiosity extends to finding the differences not only between Cubans and foreigners but also between professional Cuban dancers and empirical Cuban dancers.
I don’t want to offend anyone with my observations, but I believe it’s important to have open and honest conversations like these to spread awareness about cultural aspects.
Even though I was ignorant at first when I found Latin dances in Spain, one thing was very clear to me: this is culture, and it’s a foreign culture I have not experienced yet. I mean, how exciting is that??
DL:
In your opinion, do you think these modifications would exist if the foreign audience, for the most part, approached Cuban dance as you have?
KJ: I believe those modifications are inevitable simply because we live in a world based on capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy. In other words, business as usual.
However, yes: I believe that if the foreign audience had had at least curiosity and respect towards other cultures and humility–because there is always something to learn from other cultures, especially when one wants to learn a dance from that culture–perhaps we wouldn’t have a world with fewer modifications, but we would have a world with more people approaching actual Cuban dance.
DL: Definitely, it’s different to discuss these things with someone from a minority culture than with a European or someone from the U.S. Many times, when people read what I write, they typically have two primary reactions: one is that they get offended because, most of the time, they have never thought about their role in promoting cultural commercialism and they don’t like to see themselves in the mirror. So they tell me I need to “chill” or “tone it down” because it’s making them uncomfortable. Or, on the other hand, they have the arrogance to come and explain to me what’s happening with my own culture and why I am wrong. You’ve told me about the experiences you’ve had regarding Europeans and Japanese culture. Does what I say sound familiar, or have you had other types of experiences?
KJ: It’s very regrettable to hear that you’ve had those negative experiences.
In my case, I can say that I’ve had similar experiences, but perhaps not as many as you, mainly because I don’t focus on sharing my culture in a public and educational way like you do.
But yes, I remember very well the ignorance of people about Japan from 30 years ago when I was a child, so much so that I had no desire to share my beautiful culture because nobody seemed to have the capacity and willingness to understand. However, that has improved quite a bit because over the last 20 years Japan has opened up so much to the world, and there are so many people who want to travel and get to know my country. Or they have already traveled there. Now I am more than happy and proud when people approach me and ask questions because they genuinely want to know and understand, without judgment, and with humility.
That’s what I wish for Latin American dances and their cultures as well.
Being curious and respectful towards another culture is a beautiful thing, because that way people give me the chance to explain to them what they want to know, or need to know, to better understand my culture. That way we can share more and, above all, educate people, I mean the world. They may call me naive, but in my opinion, that would help create a world with more peace.
I believe we all have a tendency to measure and judge other cultures based on what we are accustomed to in our own cultures, and I am no exception.
But thanks to the privilege I’ve had of being raised within two different cultures, I’ve always been able to put myself in a position where I can look at both my cultures both from the inside and from the outside. I’ve been able to develop a critical mindset towards my roots. In my opinion, being critical of one’s own culture helps to reflect and discover something new about oneself.
Of course, there are opinions that are strong and sometimes confrontational, but at the same time, that helps me to open my mind, better understand the world, and connect better with different people, which enriches my life.
DL: As I mentioned before, every time I talk to someone who is a minority elsewhere, it’s a different kind of understanding. For example, I’ve spent the day thinking about writing an article titled “Sh*t I’ve had to hear non-Cubans say about Casino,” but I know if I publish something like that, I’ll get torn apart. Let’s see how I manage it. I do want to do it, but in the end, it would only confirm how “bitter” or “angry” I feel — which is one of the things that Europeans and people from the U.S. tell me when they read what I write. Of course, hardly any of them realize that they themselves offend me daily with how they consume my culture without any concern and modify it to their convenience. At any rate, the point is that I have to find a way to frame these things so that people want to hear them.
KJ: Sounds very authentic and honest. I love it. It’s your truth, and I believe people need to hear that too. Feel your frustrations without shame. Without pleasing anyone. People have been pleased enough. Sometimes you have to tell the truth even if it hurts. But it only hurts because they know it’s the truth. Well, that’s my point of view. Be fearlessly authentic, Daybert.
It’s good that they feel your bitterness because that’s how you feel. So they can see it. I’m not saying it’s the only way. There are many ways to express oneself, and I believe that with love, more can be achieved. But the world isn’t just love. There’s also anger. Anger is very good for creativity. In the end, the most important thing is to express oneself with a healthy intention and vision. And you have it.
DL: Thank you for those words. Sometimes one needs to be reminded that feeling a certain way is valid, especially after so many people have told me to “calm down” and “fix my tone”. You begin to internalize those microaggressions.
Finally, what advice do you have for someone who wants to learn how to dance more authentically – that is, who wants to get closer to how the dance is performed in their country of origin?
KJ: Before anything else, I want to express my gratitude, Daybert, for this very special opportunity. It truly is an honor to be interviewed by such a talented educator and writer like you – and even more so, a Cuban. It has been a pleasure to share my story with you and your subscribers. Thank you very much!
Here are my tips for those seeking authenticity in their dance:
• Listen to the music of the cultures a lot and always.
• Dance with Latinos from different cultures.
• Focus on feeling how they dance instead of worrying too much about technique.
• Taking classes will help with technique and may help you learn faster, but don’t be afraid to ask your instructor questions about the origins and the culture. It’s also important to take classes with different instructors. They don’t always have to be Latinos because each one has their way of conveying things. If they have good intentions, you will notice, and that is the most important thing.
• Watch videos of people dancing from the culture, preferably street dancers, rather than professionals and instructors.
• Talk to Latinos and ask them questions about their culture, listen to their opinions and thoughts.
• If possible, travel to their country.
• Be curious about where the dances come from, their origins.
• Have the humility to recognize that there is always something we can learn from other cultures.
• Ask instructors, DJs, and other dancers, and start conversations about the origins and cultures of the dances, and share their experiences.
• Be aware and critical that not everything that is sold is the truth and the authentic.
• Understand and open your eyes that we all live more or less in a system based on commercialization, consumerism, capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy.
• Support people (instructors, DJs, promoters, educators, etc.) who do the work of spreading and educating people about the authentic and the culture–we can all contribute in some way.
• Be honest if we like the authentic even if it is not the most popular opinion of the masses.
• Show and dance what we really like and not pretend just to follow the masses–that takes time and confidence in your dance, but only then can we attract and create our true community.
• Remember that we are never alone!!! There is always someone who values the same things as you.
• Live and discover your own authenticity as a person, because dance is a reflection of life.
DL:Great list! I would add: “Be willing to feel uncomfortable because sometimes you will hear or read things that will make you confront the role you have played in promoting inauthentic things. Occasionally, you will have to look at yourself in the mirror and take responsibility for your actions.” Progress comes from discomfort. That’s what I always tell my English-speaking students when they feel anxious about speaking Spanish in my class.
Likewise, thank you very much for dedicating all the time you have to this interview. I wish there were more people like you in the world, who approach other cultures with the intention of listening and learning—with humility—instead of trying to impose and modify—with arrogance. Speaking with you has given me a lot of hope that there are indeed people actively seeking to understand other cultures and who are aware that, in the process, they will make mistakes—as we all do—but that it’s all part of a process of constant learning. I don’t feel so alone now in cyberspace, knowing that I have a kindred spirit out there, dancing bachata and casino and always striving to be the most authentic version of herself that she can be. Thank you.
Kuriko La JapoMana is a messenger of Latin American dance culture and an instructor of mainly Bachata and Merengue, as well as Casino. The Japanese-German has been loving and dancing Latin social dances for 18 years. At the end of 2017, she began teaching and sharing her passion for Bachata, followed by Merengue and Casino. Her mission is to spread awareness that Latin dances are culture and deserve respect, and to share their authenticity. After creating a Dominican dance community in Frankfurt, Germany, where she taught for almost 5 years, she left a legacy for her students to continue caring for and growing the community. In August 2022, she began to be a nomad to expand her path as a messenger to the world, mainly in Japan.
Son y Casino 
Great read, and again very relatable points. I LOL’d at the sushi comparisons and the avoidance of schools.
Regarding the subject of tone policing, I’ve been thinking to write about the toxic positivity of those who jump to “it’s just for fun and art” and “we’re loving, they’re haters”. Though I suspect that those who fall for that might have their own personal work to do anyway.