Photo by Frank McMains
In Acadiana, locals are exposed to dancing their entire lives. But strangers to zydeco and Cajun dance need not let a lack of familiarity stop them.
If you’ve ever found yourself in South Louisiana in front of a live band, you’ve seen them. Those two. That couple commanding the dance floor. The one you can’t stop watching.
With each new song, they dance in perfectly timed steps, juking effortlessly in one direction and then the other. A gathering crowd on the periphery sways and claps to the beat; and while some will take to the dance floor, too, others are content to watch the spirited gracefulness of the couple in motion.
Throughout much of Acadiana, partner dancing is a storied part of the culture, and today, it remains one of the area’s most enchanting rituals. Anywhere a band plays Cajun, zydeco, or swamp pop, there are dance enthusiasts eager to grab a partner for a turn on the floor. These aren’t professional dancers. They’re passionate practitioners of traditional two-step, zydeco, waltz, and swing-style dancing. The older members of the crowd likely learned to dance at the knees of French-speaking parents and grandparents while the younger ones might have picked it up from family members or local instructors. The practice cuts across barriers of race, age, income level, and experience. Talent doesn’t matter. Everyone is encouraged to give it a try.
“People see us dance and they say, ‘I want to dance like you, but I want to go get some private lessons so I won’t look silly,’” said Leotis Lastrapes, a seasoned zydeco dancer. “I say, ‘The best way to learn is with the crowd.’”
Two Peas in a Pod
Mary Lou and Wesley Hebert. Photo by Frank McMains.
It’s impossible to count the pairs of feet that have two-stepped and jitterbugged their way across the creaky wood floor of the tin-roofed Breaux Bridge Cajun dance hall La Poussiere, which has operated from its current location on Grande Pointe Avenue since 1975. It was originally founded in a spot across the street in 1955. “La poussiere” is French for “the dust,” a reference to the clouds of debris that would emerge from the wood floor’s cracks after an evening of relentless foot stomping.
For years, Mary Lou and Wesley Hebert have been faithful patrons of this unpretentious roadside haunt. The longtime Breaux Bridge residents are passionate about Cajun dancing, and La Poussiere is one of their favorite spots.
“The wife and I started dancing together when we were teenagers,” said Wesley, a native of nearby Cecilia, who grew up watching his mother and aunts dance traditional Cajun steps. “We haven’t stopped. We’re like two peas in a pod.”
Wesley credits Mary Lou’s parents for first bringing them to a Cajun dance hall when the two were dating in high school. “During our time, the dance halls, they were scattered all over,” Wesley recalled. “And that’s what people would do for fun.”
The couple first met in the seventh grade after Mary Lou and other Arnaudville students attended school in Cecilia. Wesley said that, for him, it was love at first sight.
The two got married after high school. Having three children over the years temporarily curbed their ability to go out on weekends, but dancing became a big part of their home life, said daughter Lisa Hebert, who lives just a mile from the couple in Breaux Bridge. “I always remember them having music on and dancing,” said Lisa. “It enlightened so many moments for me, and to see the passion between them and the way they could move without even thinking about it. Dancing is such a big part of our heritage.”
Avid travelers and LSU tailgaters, Wesley and Mary Lou dance regularly at La Poussiere as well as restaurants Pont Breaux in Breaux Bridge and Randol’s in Lafayette. Lisa often accompanies her parents. “Mama and I share Daddy,” she laughed. And while she’s an accomplished dancer who has been two-stepping her whole life, Lisa said she hasn’t reached her parents’ ability to gracefully anticipate each other’s steps. “I’ve still got so much to learn from them.”
Floating on Air
David Goodwyn and Jessica Warner. Photo by Paul Kieu.
When he first moved to Lafayette from Baton Rouge several years ago, David Goodwyn knew very few people. Comfortable with dancing, he decided to immerse himself in Acadiana’s robust dance scene as a way to make friends. He mastered Cajun dancing by hitting live music venues and festivals. Then he took on the much trickier practice of zydeco dancing by going to local zydeco dance halls. “A friend of mine told me, ‘Don’t take a date,’” recalled David. “He said, ‘Go alone; dance with a bunch of different experienced dancers and let them teach you.’”
With Cajun and zydeco dancing in his repertoire, weekend dancing became a regular part of David’s life. “The dance culture in Acadiana is really unique,” he said. “You end up seeing a lot of the same people, and it’s just incredibly comfortable and open.”
About the same time in New Orleans, Jessica Warner had moved to the state from Oregon to work as a biology teacher. She had fallen in love with Louisiana’s rich culture. “It felt so Caribbean and tropical; and the weather, the people, and the music were just so great,” she said. Jessica had learned to swing dance as a small child from her mother and had discovered that the Bayou State’s numerous festivals were perfect opportunities to dance.
In 2009, David and Jessica were each attending the Blackpot Festival in Lafayette, a ten-year-old music and food festival with a passionate local following. Jessica spotted David dancing. One of the realities about the partner-dancing scene, she said, is its dearth of males. “There are lots and lots of girls and not as many guys who are into it, so I immediately noticed how good David was, recalled Jessica. “I wanted to dance with him.”
(Pictured left: David and Jess met through dancing. Photo by Paul Kieu.) The two danced to one song before the band stopped playing, but neither forgot the experience. They found each other on Facebook through a mutual friend and suggested meeting at the festival the following year.
“That next year, I was looking for Jess, and I found her on the dance floor and asked her to dance,” David recalled. “We danced four songs, and I wanted to dance again; but I could tell her boyfriend was getting jealous.” Jessica and her boyfriend broke up soon after, and she vowed that next time, she’d date a guy who liked dancing, she said.
The two made plans to meet again at Blackpot, said David. “It was late, and she hadn’t showed up yet, and I was really bummed,” he remembered. “The Red Stick Ramblers, a Cajun swing band were closing out the show, and I looked up and saw her. We made eye contact, and I went and grabbed her and we started dancing.”
Changing partners is customary in Louisiana’s dance culture, but that night, neither David nor Jessica wanted to dance with anyone else. “It was the most incredible dancing I’ve every done in my life,” recalled David. “I was a Cajun dancer, and she was a swing dancer, and this was a Cajun swing band. The crowd sort of stopped and started watching us.”
Four years after they first met at Blackpot, the couple got engaged at the festival when Goodwyn dropped to his knee and proposed during a Cajun waltz. Today, with a young daughter at home and a baby on the way, the Goodwyns still find time for dancing. “It’s just something we both really need to do,” David said. “We say, ‘If we get grumpy, it’s time to go out dancing.’”
Happy Music
Leotis Lastrapes and Brandy Mallet. Photo by Frank McMains.
On a rainy afternoon in the fall of 2011, Leotis Lastrapes, 37, was hanging out at his Port Barre home with his girlfriend, Brandy Mallet, when the song “Do it with Your Boots On,” by R&B singer and Lafayette native Cupid came on the radio.
It gave Leotis an idea. He set up a video camera on the porch, grabbed Brandy’s hand, and headed outside. Dressed in cowboy hats, jean shorts, and rubber rain boots, the two began zydeco dancing to the song, stomping traditional steps across a large shallow puddle just outside the door. Rain gently falling, they danced four counts in one direction and four more back to the center, then, in typical zydeco fashion, spent a few counts in freeform spontaneity before four-stepping again. To the uninitiated, zydeco dancing defies order and predictability. Even the four-step, the so-called “closed move,” varies wildly from couple to couple. Yet practiced zydeco dancers move through steps as though part of a predetermined plan.
The music ended, and the couple, drenched and giddy, ran back under cover. Leotis sent the video to Cupid, who promptly put it on YouTube. “Now when we go to festivals, people recognize us,” said Leotis. “We were in Houston last spring at the Baytown Festival, and people came up to us and said, ‘Hey, you’re that guy and girl in the video.’”
A Port Barre native, Leotis grew up listening to zydeco music on the radio with his parents and older siblings. But while others in his family knew the traditional dances, it wasn’t until he was in his mid-twenties that Leotis decided he wanted to learn, too. By then, he had begun to participate in trail rides with his brothers, a Creole tradition in the area in which friends and families gather for music, food, dancing, and horseback rides on local footpaths.
“At first, I got my sister-in-law to teach me; and then I started doing it more in public,” Leotis recalled. “The music, it makes you want to move. Even if you’ve never heard it before, you’re going to start tapping your foot and snapping your fingers. It’s happy music.”
Leotis and Brandy find regular opportunities to go out dancing. A favorite is Slim’s Y-Ki-Ki in downtown Opelousas, about fifteen minutes away from home. It’s one of the things Leotis appreciates about living in Port Barre, a town of about 2,200, where his family has lived on the same land for generations. He opts for a daily commute to work at the ExxonMobil refinery in Baton Rouge rather than leaving the community’s distinct traditions.
One of them is the Holy Ghost Catholic Church Creole Festival, a church bazaar held in early November. His grandmother, Evelyn Lastrapes, was one of the festival’s co-founders. “It’s old-time,” said Leotis. “No rides, just board games, bands, darts, food booths with gumbo, backbone stew, and sweet potato pies. And the dancing.”
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Many dance enthusiasts subscribe to arnb.org, a newsletter that includes a comprehensive round-up of live Cajun, zydeco, and swing bands playing throughout the state.
La Poussiere
Breaux Bridge, La.
lapoussiere.com
Blue Moon Saloon
Lafayette, La.
bluemoonpresents.com
Slim’s Y-Ki-Ki
Opelousas, La.
slimsykiki.com
Don’t miss Lakeview Park and Beach’s Mardi Gras barn dances. Eunice, La. lvpark.com
• January 30: Brenda C & the Cajun Jammers
• February 5: Pine Leaf Boys followed by Horace Trahan & the Ossun Express
• February 6: The Revelers followed Kyle Huval & the Dixie Club Ramblers
• February 7: Leroy Thomas & the Zydeco Roadrunners
• February 8: Steve Riley & the Mamou Playboys
Watch the YouTube video that made Leotis and Brandy famous (in zydeco circles, anyway) here: bit.ly/1JgQ4Xk
