ZoukNerds • Learn | Build | Belong

"Those are my students."

Something I absolutely don't like is when people in a Brazilian Zouk community say that, and not like "Oh, these are my students, please meet them." I mean in the sense that they own those people and you cannot touch them.

This one's for the teacher who moved to a new city, or the student who wants to start a beginner class or a práctica in the park, in a scene that already exists.

For me, beginner classes and opportunities to practice, nobody should complain, even on the same night, 'cause honestly, how many people are out there? The trouble starts when you build on the existing numbers and, by accident, split the community.

What we get into:

→ Don't bring me again: Gui has told organizers not to fly him in, feed him and house him for eight people, and to make those eight the core group of a new culture.

→ Holding you ransom: in our DC core team I was the one asking, "But hold on. Are these people even here?" When the team offered what they asked for, they didn't pay, they didn't show up, they didn't sign up.

→ The freshest oranges: every time I focused on the wrong people, I wasn't happy with my bank account. If a beginner says, "Hey, I need help," you've got me for the whole day.

→ Two beginner classes, same night: Gui doesn't think they compete yet, because nobody is on Google checking which Zouk class has five stars and which has four.

The big takeaway: "If you're not bringing something actually really new as an offering, then I don't think you're actually helping the community grow."

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:15 Joining a Brazilian Zouk scene that already exists

03:25 Offering to existing dancers vs bringing new ones in

07:38 Beginner classes and prácticas nobody should fight

09:09 When a new class splits a small community

14:04 Do two beginner classes on one night compete?

16:57 The class your scene needs, and nobody comes

21:12 Start a new culture with the eight who came

22:53 Stop chasing the students holding you ransom

25:33 Chasing the wrong people hurt my bank account

28:45 The rebel years, and dancers who stop coming

32:58 Why some dancers come back better after a break

35:29 What you think they need vs what they think

39:04 Why I won't open a new level for two requests

42:27 Breaking the rules to teach technique at festivals

44:57 A DC social where nobody was sitting down

46:24 The one dedicated person every scene needs

48:46 Stay consistent: 6, 12, 24 months

Co-hosts: Alisson Sandi and Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep27 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Community leaders tell Gui and me they can't grow their Brazilian Zouk scene because they're busy pleasing the people with power, some bosses, some mafia people. I don't think you need to. I think you need to please the dancers.

This one's for anyone trying to start Brazilian Zouk in a city where nobody dances it yet, and getting told what they're allowed to do.

I learned it twice. Around 2003, as a Bolsista in Brazil, the owners of my school called me in for going to other people's socials, "Hey, are you not happy here?" Years later in Australia, as a teacher, another owner tried to cut my wings, "Why are you friends with this person?"

What we get into:

→ Don't count your hours: Gui told an organizer, "Don't do that, man." The numbers will make you say, "Why am I doing this with my life?"

→ My night, my people: the Friday Bachata organizer who doesn't want your Zouk social on their night, and the founder of a tiny scene who starts saying, "my community, my people, my, my, my."

→ Abundance or scarcity: Gui's teachers in Rio ran socials elsewhere while teaching at the Jaime Arôxa Dance Studio. After the pandemic, he hears, "Oh, but this person opened a social the same day that I did."

So what would I do in a city with no Zouk? Be a fly on the wall, then teach a free intro class before the Salsa social and say, "Hello, nice to meet you." Twenty-plus years of dancing, and I still don't expect a red carpet.

The big takeaway: "I'm gonna do what's right for the growth of the community and for the happiness of my students. I'm not here to please the lords above."

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:34 Starting Brazilian Zouk where nobody dances it yet

03:40 Why building a scene takes longer than you think

06:14 When other dance socials protect their night

08:08 The founder who says "my community, my people"

11:58 Called in by my own school as a Bolsista

16:36 The same story again as a teacher in Australia

19:22 Don't let the overlords clip your wings

22:18 Abundance vs scarcity, Rio before and after the pandemic

25:35 Cities of millions fighting over the same 30 dancers

28:08 What is actually best for a dance community?

31:18 Be a fly on the wall before you build anything

32:46 What I'd do in a city with no Brazilian Zouk at all

35:48 Why you don't get a red carpet in a new scene

37:34 Melbourne, DC, Taipei: agree on everything up front

39:10 If you're not a seasoned teacher yet, don't do it alone

43:49 Find a mentor who has done what you want

45:47 What's coming in part two

Co-hosts: Alisson Sandi and Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep26 | ZoukNerds Podcast

I apologised at the top of this one, because I know what the word does to people. "Fix your frame, your frame doesn't work, your frame is this, your frame is that."

Nobody tells you which part of your body they mean. In Brazilian Zouk we use frame as an umbrella word for a pile of separate things, and then we correct people with it.

This one is for anybody who has been told to fix their frame and walked away with no idea what to actually change.

Gui asks the leaders who come to him to show him what they mean, and they tense their whole body and push harder into his.

What we get into:

→ A student at BraZouky asked Gui how to keep their lats engaged in close embrace, and he said, "You don't. You don't do that." Your frame there is your whole torso.

→ The Wi-Fi test. If we can do the movement with no connection, just body leads, why do you need that much tension the second your hands land?

→ The gap at the wrist. A leader's right hand never fully arrives on the body, so they frame up and squeeze, and the shape was never the problem.

→ The Ruler of Intensity, or Régua da Intensidade, from Gui's own training. A one to ten on the tension in your own body, another on the compression into your partner.

→ Why I start every dance from my quietest voice, and why the five you dance at is one you build together.

The big takeaway: the frame is the shape you take, the distance from your partner, the tension you hold to keep it, and the connection points where the touch happens. At least four things, Gui says, probably more.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:42 What frame means, and why the word triggers people

04:31 What leaders do when you say "use more frame"

06:24 Frame is a million things, not one thing

09:27 How do you keep your frame in close embrace?

12:36 The Wi-Fi test, and the hand that never arrives

15:47 Don't take frame advice that can't tell you where

17:57 "I can't feel their frame" and how to diagnose it

21:19 Frame as a communication tool, with or without touch

25:17 Three places to connect: arms, chest, hips

28:08 How to ask a better question about your connection

30:30 The Ruler of Intensity, from one to ten

33:12 A vest with prosthetic arms, and where the lead comes from

35:42 Why people quit when holding their frame hurts

37:12 Guess your partner's number on the tension scale

38:57 Starting a dance from the lowest voice you have

41:50 Why your three is your partner's six

43:41 Light and heavy frame are really light and heavy touch

47:29 The four elements hiding inside the word frame

49:59 When it is not your frame at all

Co-hosts: Alisson Sandi and Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep25 | ZoukNerds Podcast

We put two people on the floor at a Brazilian Zouk teacher training and asked the room one question. These two are complete beginners, what do you fix first?

Somebody said the timing, somebody said the posture, and then somebody said the torsion, so I had to stop everyone. "Hold on, slow down, torsion, who is that?" Like, is it food? At that point that word does not exist yet.

If you've ever been told to fix your posture with no idea what that meant, this one is for teachers and for dancers who feel stuck.

So Gui and I went through the two frameworks we use. The Correction Ladder is the order we fix things in, the Foundational Stack is the bare minimum you build a dance on.

What we get into:

→ Gui's ladder, from the ground up: rhythm, then the feet and ankles, then the knees, then the hips, then the posture. And it is a chain event. If you hold the beat standing still and lose it going front and back, you do not have a timing problem.

→ Posture, defined so you can test it. Gui calls it whatever arrangement lets your forward step and your back step be the same length and the same stability. A Lambadeiro, a Tangueiro and a Forró dancer all stand differently, and all are stable.

→ The part I know is controversial. At the very beginning we barely talk about frame, connection, leading and following at all.

The big takeaway: Gui's words, not mine. The other person is there for guidance, for the connection, for the playfulness. For the dance to exist, it does exist in your body on your own.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:10 The Correction Ladder and the Foundational Stack

02:30 The teacher-training test: what do you fix first?

04:28 Gui's ladder: rhythm, feet, ankles, knees, hips

06:47 Why a timing problem is usually not a timing problem

09:05 Say it in words a beginner already has

10:37 Neutral body alignment, and why posture is too vague

12:00 Most dancers arrive with no body awareness at all

15:33 Make a correction stick: teach it back, then film it

19:10 Four Brazilian dances, four postures, all stable

21:00 Travel, control, ground, and where the balance goes

23:35 Why we don't teach leading and following first

26:54 Develop the dancer's autonomy

28:34 Sliding feet or silent steps? Awareness and choice

32:10 Head movement, and the foundation that sells itself

33:50 What is frame, man?

36:26 The second stack: building the Brazilian Zouk body

38:30 Two months on the calendar, eleven hours in the room

40:59 Soltinho, and what makes a step a basic loop

45:50 Be a beginner in a beginner class, and the driving test

Co-hosts: Alisson Sandi and Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep24 | ZoukNerds Podcast

I danced with someone I'd followed online for years, walked off the floor, and went to a dark corner to question every decision I'd ever made in my life.

They're one of the best Brazilian Zouk dancers in the world, the dance was terrible, and like most of us do, I blamed myself.

If you've ever come off a dance with somebody you admire and quietly decided the problem was you, this one's for you.

Gui's version is a follower in his D.C. scene who tries to sit down and can't, because the leaders keep coming. She's intermediate, and the teachers in that room are the ones sitting.

What we get into:

→ What "technical" even means. I go to the Olympics and the Ballroom World Championships, and then the question that matters: is that who you want to ask for a dance?

→ Gui ending a dance before the first song was over, with the follower a friend promised him explosions with. "We came to an agreement that it was not working."

→ What Jaime Arôxa's studio actually graded us on. Not only technical knowledge, but how comfortable we were, how we used the space, how musical we were, how we switched rhythms.

→ How many ways do people say water? That's the practice I'd put you on, flavours of the same Basic, Lateral, Viradinha and Soltinho, not another endless list of moves.

The big takeaway: What people want is to connect with everybody, and they are chasing that through things that are not in alignment with connecting with everybody.

Who's the dancer in your scene everybody wants to dance with, and what do they do? Tell us in the comments.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:22 What do we mean by a technical dancer?

03:51 The follower everyone asks to dance

07:07 Textbook technique vs social technique

10:08 What happens when you finally dance with your idol

12:33 The dance that ended before the first song

15:32 Why the same partner feels different two years later

18:29 The night I decided to forget what I saw

22:43 What Jaime Arôxa's studio actually graded

26:04 The leader who stopped listening to followers

27:49 Why Gui gave up elegance to fit more bodies

30:56 Why people chase the wrong thing to dance with everyone

35:28 How many ways do people say water?

37:20 The 'should' in your head that blocks the dance

39:16 Echo chambers, and keeping them out of your dancing

41:30 Your preferences are allowed, and they nurture you

43:00 The private lessons that came from one social dance

45:09 A mindset for life, not a six-month project

Co-hosts: Alisson Sandi and Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep23 | ZoukNerds Podcast

"I don't know what to do. My students don't wanna learn the foundations. Please help me." An organizer said that to me years ago, and it is the most common thing I hear in Brazilian Zouk.

This one is for teachers and organizers who have said out loud that their students do not want the basics.

That night I went to the social. Acrobatics everywhere, every head movement, not one Viradinha. Then he started dancing, because he was the local teacher, leading crazy moves to people who could barely do a basic step.

So Gui and I sort this into three buckets, a me problem, a them problem, or a design problem, and the one everybody reaches for first is almost never the right one.

What we get into:

→ Gui on why a curriculum gap only shows up a year later, in the warm-up, months after you built it.

→ "Move, move, move more." His class moved their bodies and stayed where they were, until a co-teacher said the word he meant was travel.

→ What he told an organizer mid-briefing: "I think it's the time for us to stop putting the blame into the students."

→ When it really is them. Someone read the format, said "This is not for me," came anyway, and left after day one.

→ A month of classes where I never went past Soltinho, and the room grew every single week.

The big takeaway: Whoever is at the top of a community takes credit for the good and the bad in it, because a community identifies with what its leadership values.

Think about the last class or event that did not work for you. Me, them, or design? Tell us in the comments.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:41 Me problem, them problem, or design problem

03:08 Why a curriculum gap only shows up a year later

06:41 Over-preparing a class and losing the room

09:20 When 'too slow' is really a design problem

11:54 "My students won't take a basics class"

16:44 The one word that changed the whole class

18:42 When is it genuinely a them problem?

22:06 Learning who your course is not for

23:49 Festival passes and what nobody reads

28:00 The scene with acrobatics and no basics

31:21 A month of classes that never passed Soltinho

33:41 Not every teacher belongs in a beginner class

35:03 Your social dancing teaches more than your class

37:44 Why you become the reference point

42:09 Stop saying 'them' and ask yourself why

46:02 A festival with no breaks: bad design or good value?

48:14 Taking accountability for your own experience

52:40 Open mind versus strong expectations

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep22 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Lambada is like the sun, you know? It spreads the brightness and the energy to everyone around.

And I'm sorry to say this, but sometimes, in some places, Brazilian Zouk can be like a black hole.

Vanessa didn't even let me finish. "You just get in." Yeah. You get in, you get sucked in, and everything else disappears. It's my dance, and I say it with love.

If you've danced Brazilian Zouk for years and still tell people you don't dance Lambada, this one is for you.

I sat down with Vanessa Meirelles and Iago Hassuike in person, and these two are the nerds of Lambada.

What we get into:

→ I already steal one of these. The follower is always looking for Soltinho, and Boneca when there's head movement. I taught it last week and my followers stopped waiting.

→ The 51/49. Leaders carry 51 percent, followers 49, "and we just have 49 because someone has to be the leader."

→ Vanessa asked what I should have asked years ago. Nobody fears Urban Zouk, everybody fears Lambada, and Zouk and Lambada are the closer pair. "Who builds their mindset are the teachers."

→ Then she gave away the secret. "First, we try to trick you all." They teach you a movement you like, wait for the wow, then tell you it was Lambada. Iago: "We set the trap."

The big takeaway: Lambada came from the street, so there is no right or wrong body in it. Somebody asked Didi about a room dancing every which way. "I'm loving that."

So which one are you, and what's stopping you trying the other? Tell us in the comments.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:52 Zouk Nerds meets Lambada Nerds

03:38 How Iago fell for Lambada after hating it

05:06 Why a Lambada room feels different

07:06 Brazouka, and jumping into someone else's dance

09:04 Where Lambada and Brazilian Zouk actually split

12:20 Teaching Brazilian Zouk with more timing

15:18 Will Lambada get bigger than Brazilian Zouk?

17:04 One community, and letting the DJ decide

20:16 What Zouk dancers gain from Lambada rhythm

21:36 Why Forró students learn Portuguese

24:40 Opening or crossing: where each one came from

27:27 'Chorinho', and bringing Brazil into class

29:42 How they trick a Zouk room into dancing Lambada

33:57 How to actually learn Lambada, and where to go

38:41 The elastic and the hula hoop

40:55 Followers who attack, and the 51/49 rule

45:01 Soltinho Forever, Boneca, and the embrace rule

48:34 Why the Lambada head movement fits Brazilian Zouk

52:40 How Lambada became teachable

55:06 Who translated Lambada for other bodies

57:48 How far is too far before a dance changes

1:00:14 The three things Lambada has to keep

1:01:14 There is no right body in Lambada

1:02:55 Naming the masters who came before you

1:06:11 Why you should learn both dances

1:08:35 The teacher who nearly put me off Brazilian Zouk

Guests: Vanessa Meirelles and Iago Hassuike, Lambada and Brazilian Zouk artists from São Paulo. Hosted by Alisson Sandi.

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep21 | ZoukNerds Podcast

"I don't believe this person, they can really follow what this guy wants. I think they are guessing." That's Vanessa on why she started Brazilian Zouk, after fifteen years of ballet, jazz and contemporary.

If you have a job you like and a dance you love, and you keep running the numbers at two in the morning, this one is for you.

Iago was teaching mathematics in Campinas when Nina told him, "If you wanna be with me, you gotta dance." The pandemic shut his school, and when it reopened he said, "Well, good luck for you guys. I'm not coming back."

I sat with both of them in person, and this half is about who they were before the stage.

What we get into:

→ Vanessa doing continuous turns with Philip Miha and hearing "You are not following me." She found out years later he was right, because her ballet was supplying the momentum.

→ Nobody jumped without a net. Daniel Darbello gave Iago a room with no rent, and Vanessa's dad said "if you can't, you have a home." Mine was kebab shops.

→ My advice on going full time is six to twelve months of savings, or build the dance income on the side until it matches what you already earn.

→ Iago on living together 24/7: "it's a marriage." They were never dating, which he calls a golden rule, and I've done that once and I don't recommend it.

The big takeaway: The time of life is the most precious thing we have to offer, so when someone chooses to dance with you, receive them with all the care you can.

What did you give up to keep dancing? Tell us in the comments.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:48 Meeting Vanessa Meirelles and Iago Hassuike

03:08 Why a ballet dancer didn't believe in following

05:42 From a math classroom to quitting the school

08:16 How the partnership actually started

11:16 The five-year plan that happened in two

13:04 The safety net that made going full time possible

16:14 Why a dance career is a whole different monster

19:34 The circles of information in a dance scene

21:53 Living together 24/7, and the golden rule

23:54 Travelling the world and still being alone

26:56 Why their partnership worked when others don't

29:48 Dance first or structure first: two ways to learn

32:08 The rule that settles every disagreement

34:03 The class that keeps a teacher awake at night

36:45 How to actually let a compliment land

38:43 The math student who came back crying

41:11 Their advice, and what's coming in part two

Guests: Vanessa Meirelles and Iago Hassuike, Lambada and Brazilian Zouk artists from São Paulo. Hosted by Alisson Sandi.

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep20 | ZoukNerds Podcast

"Hell yes, hell yes." That's my answer every time someone in the group asks whether teachers hit plateaus too, and I teach Brazilian Zouk for a living.

Ours just hides better. I can teach all week, feel completely fulfilled, and then meet Christina after three months apart and find that the things we could do together suddenly need thinking about again.

Gui said it cleaner than I did. He'd been dancing mostly with his beginner students, having the time of his life, and then he went to do something explosive: "there was a wall. I couldn't do the thing."

What we get into:

→ A student feels stuck and knows it. We feel great, right up until someone challenges us socially, and that's when I go "hang on, I have not been training that division of my dancing."

→ Gui's pizza chart. Almost every hour you teach goes into basics and everything vertical, so the sharp explosive layer gets a sliver of the pie and quietly rots.

→ Why I can't train with my own students. It's never their level, it's the hierarchy, and you hear it in the disclaimer: "I don't know, I'm probably wrong, but I feel like this."

→ What we actually do about it: the student seat at somebody else's weekender, a private lesson where you tell the teacher to hold nothing back, and cross-training in styles that have nothing to do with Zouk.

The big takeaway: The plateau exists because we have a certain expectation, and the moment we remove that expectation, the plateau is not there anymore.

When did you last catch yourself plateaued without noticing? Tell us in the comments.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:32 Do dance teachers plateau too?

05:00 Why a teacher's plateau looks different

07:22 Festival anxiety and the inner saboteur

09:13 Making time to train when you teach all week

13:12 Why you can't train with your own students

15:26 Finding a body that moves like yours

18:51 Why students hold back their feedback

21:07 Five years of choreography, no social growth

22:43 The pizza chart of what teachers actually train

25:04 Which layer of Brazilian Zouk do you own?

27:38 Private lessons and cross-training that wake you up

31:44 Consistency, and how fast the flow comes back

33:28 Jack and Jill as a fitness test

36:26 When the DJ and the room take over

38:34 The vault of knowledge in a dancer's body

40:34 Learn from every class, even the ones you dislike

44:18 The happy plateau and the comparison trap

Co-hosts: Alisson Sandi and Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep19 | ZoukNerds Podcast

For years the DJ would put on traditional old school Brazilian Zouk and I'd walk off the floor. "Ah, I don't like that type of music, I'm gonna take a break." That was a lie. I didn't have the skills to enjoy it yet, and the day I learned them I loved it.

So when Gui tells me he got so picky only two or three followers could give him a good dance, down to where their head sat against his, I know that feeling.

He worked it out on the bus home from a social in Rio, where he realised he'd danced all night without being present once, because he spent the whole thing hunting those two or three people. And whose fault was it, right?

What we get into:

→ Gui trained slow songs for years, then walked into a real Forró where Xote is five percent of the night. "Lack of exposure, for sure lack of exposure."

→ You start in flip-flops, any song, anyone. Years later it's two kinds of socks in your backpack and one follower who "knows how to dance with me."

→ "Because Gui is a gelato snob." "I am such a bitch. I'm such a gelato snob, yes. And without shame."

→ The unpaid dance escort. Friday nights in Rio, one friend, met at the door, forty five minutes, nobody else, home.

→ "But Alisson, I'm a customer. I'm paying to be here." Yeah, I don't argue with that. It still doesn't make your taste the DJ's problem.

The big takeaway: I'll be picky as long as it doesn't affect other people, and if it may affect other people, I'm going to find a way to reduce that effect.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

1:22 What the pickiness curve is

3:03 "I don't like this music" is usually a skill gap

4:46 Gui's Xote and Bolero problem

6:58 How pickiness climbs: shoes, floors, partners

8:47 Ignorance is bliss, and the gelato snob

10:35 When your checklist gets too long

12:18 The bus ride home, and what he asked next

17:21 Preferences versus pickiness

21:16 The unpaid dance escort

22:32 Reading your social battery in one night

25:43 "I'm a paying customer", and where the line is

29:47 Pandemic pods and the people who stopped coming

34:12 The teacher's pickiness curve

37:06 Your dance teacher is a business owner

40:44 Knowing your preferences without being picky

45:20 Festivals, and growing the community

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep18 | ZoukNerds Podcast

"I know, I've done this already." Every Brazilian Zouk teacher hears that in privates, and I ask the same thing back.

"Okay, you've done it. But do you know it?"

"Oh no, yeah, I know."

"Do you know? Because if you knew, we wouldn't be correcting this."

Then Gui told me the one that stuck. Hours of privates on Lambada, learned so much, never practised any of it. "Couple months went by, it's almost like I didn't do the private lesson at all. I forgot everything."

What we get into:

→ Don't book me to buy a move. Someone points at a video and Gui usually just says, "this is a Ioiô," you already know it.

→ Three missed classes at District Zouk is four and a half hours, warm-ups, rotations, everybody's input. Gui asks it straight, "you wanna substitute that for one hour?"

→ My students book me like a physio, "Alisson, I need a health checkup." Once a month is my floor, and weekly only works if we're integrating.

→ "I wanna get better." Better how? Gui asks that every time, and it turns a drifting hour into a working one.

→ A follower came to him losing her balance, told her ankles were weak. It was never her ankles, she was moving her weight forward too fast.

This one I keep chewing on, because I've done it as a student. Gui says people ask for what they think you want to hear, not what they actually want. Nowhere to hide in there, you know?

The big takeaway: we know everything that we know, but we don't know what we don't know, and you are the one who can tell us.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:14 Intro: what a private lesson is actually for

03:44 When someone asks you to teach a move

10:11 The Q&A before the first dance

12:54 Why the problem is rarely mechanical

15:09 I forgot everything I learned

20:34 How often to book: the health checkup

23:19 One hour can't replace three missed classes

26:40 "In Salsa we do it like this"

28:28 What to keep from your old dance style

31:19 Empty cup or full cup

36:05 "Tell me what only you do"

40:21 When a private goes wrong, say something

44:04 What does better mean to you?

47:14 It wasn't her weak ankles

50:04 Choosing the teacher who fits you

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep17 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Why do you dance like you're competing?

Because Brazilian Zouk is one dance living as five: the social dance, the performance, the competition, the after-class demo, and the teaching dance. In this ZoukNerds episode, Gui Prada and I name all five, and what happens when you train one while wanting another.

Gui saw it in a private lesson in Australia. A follower past 65 told him, "I am dancing not to go crazy. I do this as a mental health tool." Her balance diagnosis from other teachers: engage your core, point your feet. Competition tools. The real fix was weight distribution. She almost got emotional, because she thought something was wrong with her.

I put my hands up here too. In my Australia years, everybody trained for Jack and Jill. My classes taught the cleanest, most precise execution, and we called it social dancing.

What manifestation of the dance are you training?

→ The body: when I competed, my body was ready for a show any minute. A relaxed embrace? My body could not process it.

→ The feed: we don't have social media anymore. We have attention media. It decides which version of the dance looks like THE dance.

→ The diet: people want comfort, but 99% of their training and Instagram watching is Jack and Jill. I wanna be healthy, but I go to McDonald's every day.

If you ever left a social feeling like your partner was performing at you, this is why. The order is improvised. The execution is not. That's choreography.

The big takeaway: training for Jack and Jill is not the bad thing. It's how you're training for Jack and Jill. Know which dance you're training, and change the chip between them.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro: one dance, three dances

05:41 "I am dancing not to go crazy"

07:00 Weight distribution fixed her balance

12:55 My competition body couldn't relax

15:14 The 99% Jack and Jill diet

17:45 Train a concept and a feeling

19:36 João Lambadeiro: stage moves went social

21:00 My Australia confession

26:27 Attention media, not social media

29:26 How Brazil studios kept paths separate

36:44 Improvised order, not improvised execution

37:29 The fifth manifestation: the teaching dance

39:36 Change the chip

42:55 Don't let others create your reality

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep16 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Why did you leave that amazing Brazilian Zouk class confused?

Because the teacher was serving three meals at once. Every dance class teaches one of three things: mechanics, concepts, or feeling. When nobody names the main one, you learn a nice move and walk out not knowing what the class was about.

In this ZoukNerds episode, Gui Prada and I talk about how teachers build classes, why most of us default to mechanics, and how to decode what your class is actually teaching you.

People ask me, "Can you teach spins? We have one hour on the Friday." Nope. Do you want them to feel like a spinner? Okay, I need three hours. There are things that need time. You cannot cheat that.

What your class is teaching you:

→ Mechanics: how to execute. The Bônus = traveling turn, rock step, Patinha.

→ Concept: what it is for. The same Bônus becomes dancing on a track, or a circle.

→ Feeling: what it is like. The turning, the momentum. This one needs time and a reference point.

Gui's line is, "it's almost like a ladder. You study the mechanic and you get the concept and then you have the feeling."

The part most teachers skip: naming it. If you ever left a workshop thinking "I suck at this", that was probably a class built to show you what you don't know yet. That class exists. Somebody just forgot to tell you.

The big takeaway: The move is just a move. What you learn through the move is the class.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro

00:58 Mechanics, concepts, or feeling

06:06 The students choose how I teach

11:45 Gui's confession: all mechanics

13:36 Why I refuse one-hour spin workshops

17:16 The ladder

20:59 The teaching autopilot hot take

23:03 The move is just a move

26:16 One move, three classes: the Bônus

28:36 Two kinds of classes

33:50 What one hour of spins buys

35:52 How to watch a demo

38:10 Feelings need a reference point

Co-hosts: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep15 | ZoukNerds Podcast

How does a dance school become your safe space?

Before Brazilian Zouk, before teaching, Gui Prada and I were two shy kids who found one safe room. In this ZoukNerds episode, we thank the first teachers who built us, and I tell a story nobody has ever heard. Not even my family.

Brazil, 1999. I was around 10. A community center near my house had dance classes, and my parents couldn't afford them. "Look, I'm sorry. We cannot afford that." So I would hide before class, join when the warm-up started, and run before it finished. For months. One day the teachers came to me: "Hey, before you go, can we have a chat?" I never went back. Years later it hit me: they were probably offering me my first Bolsista position.

What did our first teachers actually give us?

→ The ethos: Dan and Lily ran my first school on one rule. Make people happy, everybody has fun, you're doing a great job. The rest comes with time.

→ The standard: Gui trained at Jaime Arôxa in Rio. Jaime had this thing in class: "Normal person, special person." Two postures, two people. The older ladies and widows walked out special again.

→ The seeing: Val gave me my first chance to assist when nobody else would. "You have something that they don't, and I see it."

We didn't dance because we were dancers. It was shyness: cold sweats, hiding in corners. Dance was the only room where we could connect without talking. Keep the body moving. Don't speak.

The big takeaway: a dance school is a permission space, the place where you become someone who connects. I slept at mine between the Saturday 4 AM party and the Sunday 8 AM training. That school raised me.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro: thank you, first teachers

02:05 "Make people happy": the ethos

04:59 "What is Jaime Arôxa?"

07:44 Elegance with an edge of arrogance

11:40 Val: the teacher who saw me

16:00 The story I never told anyone

23:13 Too shy to talk, so I danced

25:02 Normal person, special person

26:55 I never left the dance school

31:55 Paulinho, the Chacha man

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep14 | ZoukNerds Podcast

What's the difference between a Brazilian Zouk retreat and a Zouk festival?

In this ZoukNerds episode, Gui Prada and I go down memory lane to the events that marked us, and they could not be more opposite.

Gui's first Brazilian Zouk event ever was Xandy Liberato's first retreat, in Valencia, 2016. Invitation only. On arrival day, the exercise was simple: look your partner in the eye, one touch on the shoulder, one on the arm. Gui started sobbing in front of a stranger. The stranger cried too. Eight months later he flew to the Warsaw Zouk Festival and danced with four people in four days.

My version: Brazil Central in Brisbane, an old museum building, all the masters from Brazil. That event is the reason I made a rule when I created BraZouky: "This event will never be in a ballroom or in a community center that has no personality."

Why did the same dance feel like two opposite worlds?

→ The retreat: everything organic, everything subtle, fire day, water day, air day. Solid basics in the room, so "the only way were to go deeper."

→ The festival: a vodka stand, a club room, songs Gui had never heard. He sent a friend an audio message: "Look what they're listening to. How do I dance to that?"

→ The etiquette: in Australia it was one song, high-five, change partners. Third song is a marriage.

If your first big festival disappointed you, Gui found the answer years later. The retreat was a very specific container. A very intentional container. The festival was never trying to be one.

The big takeaway: a festival is not a broken retreat. They are different kinds of events, and intention is what made one of them feel like another world.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro: the events that stay in our heart

01:06 Gui's first: the Valencia retreat (2016)

05:09 Brazil Central: an arts festival, not a ballroom

07:36 Prague: the social that never stopped

12:00 Day zero: the sobbing exercise

15:18 Time, immersion, and the able body

18:03 All styles, all good

21:00 Third song is a marriage

23:27 Studio socials vs the fish market

28:38 Let's spill the tea: Warsaw

30:12 Four days, four dances

32:40 A very intentional container

36:10 Like going to the opera

37:24 What's new is what we remember

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep13 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Is Brazilian Zouk a spiritual dance? Do you have to be spiritual to dance it?

In this ZoukNerds episode, Gui Prada and I take the "too hippie" stereotype apart.

The complaint: too spiritual, too much eye contact, whale music. So I asked the Buddha himself, Gui Prada, to define it. His definition: anything you do that connects you to meaning, to purpose, to something larger than yourself. Not a belief, a practice. Yoga counts. Journaling counts. In an old German monastery, brewing beer counted, and the monks drank from three-liter mugs.

By that definition I am in it already: weight transfer drills, feeling the floor. Yeah, we all hippies, okay?

Does the stereotype survive the episode?

→ The wardrobe: linen from Bali, organic and vegan, and less depth than someone in jeans in a big city. "It's not what people wear. It's not what they eat. It's not where they live."

→ The competition: I asked Gui, "Could I be a Jack and Jill hardcore, fanatic point chaser and still be a spiritual dancer?" "100%. 1,000%."

→ The retreats: journaling connects you to yourself, yoga to your body, meditation to your thoughts, and the dance to each other. That is why retreats use Brazilian Zouk as a connection tool.

Then I remembered Beijing. The Chinese Olympic ice dancers saw a video of me dancing Zouk and said, "We don't want to learn the dance itself. Teach us how to become one like you guys do." I could relate. When I competed, my training was for the outside, for the judges, for the show.

The big takeaway: spirituality in dance is depth of practice, not wardrobe. The Tuesday-night dancer doing footwork drills may hold a deeper spiritual practice than the professional in yoga pants who lost the why.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro: is Zouk too hippie?

02:05 The definition: it's a practice

07:00 Weight transfer drills: we're all hippies

08:08 It's not what people wear

11:23 Can a point chaser be spiritual?

14:50 A tool for connection

15:45 Is the name itself appropriation?

22:25 The Chinese Olympic ice dancers

27:21 The Tuesday-night spiritual practice

30:00 Same class, two names

30:51 The things are what we are

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep12 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Why is the festival you bought never the event you get?

Because most Brazilian Zouk festivals are designed from the fear of not being able to pay for them. Gui Prada and I open the organizer's books.

I'll put my hands up first. I've lost money on BraZouky Festivals. Some years we didn't pay the bills. We take from here, go from there, we do some magic. And we still never sold a day pass.

Gui named the pattern: you start with an intention, a small, intimate event, and right behind it comes "how am I gonna pay for this?" Then the plane tickets arrive: "Maybe we open 10 more spots. Maybe we do a party pass." The event you announced is already gone.

What actually breaks an event's promise:

→ The quiet pivot: "Let's just sell more followers tickets. Nobody's gonna know. Who's gonna know? Nobody's gonna know." We never did that. We see it a lot.

→ The napkin math: if your budget is not a spreadsheet with multiple tabs, you missed real costs. On one small weekender we spent $500 just on Uber. That's five passes.

→ The word "intimate": there is no such thing as an intimate event with 50 people in the room. My cap is 30, with pre-selection.

The ones who keep their promises prepared before they promised: money saved like a club, before the event exists. Gui taught at one of those. The peace of mind exudes around, and for once the intermediate room was actually intermediate.

The big takeaway: an event designed from fear will drift away from its own intention. An event designed from a real budget and a clear intention can stay small, stay honest, and sell out at premium.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro: the fear that drives organizers

02:18 Gui's epiphany: intention first, fear second

06:51 My BraZouky receipts: four countries

08:00 The 'BraZouquinho': underpromise, overdeliver

12:55 No such thing as intimate with 50

18:06 The party-pass death spiral

22:17 The club account: money before the event

26:51 We don't need a festival in June

30:23 Napkin math vs the spreadsheet ($500 Uber)

32:10 The Bali dancer who sold out on intention

34:24 Ask AI, then dig: see the monster first

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep11 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Is Brazilian Zouk an addiction? I think for a lot of us it is — and I say that as someone it nearly broke.

In this ZoukNerds episode my co-host Gui Prada and I talk about the body of the dancer. The strapped knee, the strapped shoulder, the wrist, the people massaging each other at every festival. That is the community telling on itself.

For 10 years I ate painkillers as if I was drinking water. I wasn't sleeping. Any lesson, any call, any hour — it was a yes. That burned me out, and in 2016 I quit dance for a whole year. What I came back understanding: it was never the dance. It was how I dealt with it.

So how do you know your love for the dance has tipped into addiction? Try the self-advisor test: if a friend told you everything they've been doing to their body, would you say "keep going, you're fine"? People freeze. We can't say it to a stranger, so we shouldn't say it to ourselves.

Then there's the gambling parallel. We keep feeding the machine for the dopamine hit of one great dance, losing and losing until we win. Pace yourself instead. Rest a few weeks, then go all-in on the one weekender that connects with your soul.

Gui says it best: "I cannot give more. What I received right now is enough." Understanding what is enough is the search for a whole life.

Dance is our tribe. It can't be our only tribe. Reach out to your Dancers Anonymous, and notice how big a slice of your life this really owns.

Listen, follow, and share this with the dancer who needs to hear it.

CHAPTERS

00:00 Intro

00:28 The body of the dancer: strapped knees, shoulders, wrists

01:45 The inability to stop

02:32 The self-advisor test

05:57 10 years, painkillers like water

07:16 I quit dance for a whole year

08:45 Why teachers can't say no

12:24 Dance as your only tool

16:03 It's a gambling addiction

16:13 Music FOMO, people FOMO, event FOMO

21:05 Falling asleep on the floor

24:48 "I cannot give more" — enoughness

26:42 The Michelin sushi spoiler

29:31 What does dance fulfill for you?

30:31 Healthy here, not struggling to be here

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep10 | ZoukNerds Podcast

I'll put my hands up here. A lot of the time, dancing Brazilian Zouk, I'm just listening to the tum, ta, chick and going for it. "Oh, good BPM, I can dance to this." That's autopilot, dancing to the sound of the machine, and it's most of what we call musicality: hitting the structure, the ones, the fives. There are whole layers under that we're not touching.

Gui was trained the other way. At Jaime Arôxa's school, you learned to be affected by the music: follow the cadence of the voice, sing along, move until the song gets into your body. His goal: "I want the music to get to me." So what does musicality in Brazilian Zouk actually mean, past the beat?

Why we get stuck on the beat:

→ The classes: we teach footwork, timing, frame, and connection. Music connection comes years later, in workshops built for teachers and Jack and Jill.

→ The history: Brazilians connect to the percussion, and most Zouk songs are not in Portuguese. We couldn't reach the lyrics, so we grabbed everything else.

→ The reward: we call the dancer who hits all the numbers "musical." The dancer feeling the layers is dancing within the music.

In DC, Gui watched 40 dancers. One face was really feeling the music: the Kizomba dancer, new to Zouk. "Oh, I know this song. It makes me feel a certain way, and I go this way." He couldn't dance Zouk yet, and he was the most musical dancer in the room.

The big takeaway: timing is communication, and rhythm is the first layer of connection. Once you have the rhythm down, listen beyond it: melody, instruments, and eventually the vibe. And train it on your own, from day one, no apologies.

Chapters:

00:00 Opening highlights

01:32 Intro

04:32 Teachers want the timing down, then can't get you out of it

08:32 How Jaime Arôxa taught musicality

10:27 Autopilot: dancing to the sound of the machine

11:55 Why musicality workshops skip the basics

16:05 Heavy, airy, viscous: words for what you feel

17:57 Hitting the structure isn't musicality

18:54 One guy in 40: the Kizomba dancer's face

20:14 Why Brazilian Zouk got taught rhythm-first

24:29 Timing is communication

29:51 Most dancers don't dance enough on their own

35:19 The challenge: Lateral to all the songs

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep09 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Where are the Brazilians in Brazilian Zouk?

Gui Prada went looking in Sydney and found them at the Forró social, not at our Zouk Social.

Gui was three weeks in Sydney, dancing Zouk every Friday, missing what he calls the squeeze, not a hug, a squeeze. Then somebody took him to the Forró social, and in the waiting area all he could hear was Portuguese, Portuguese, Portuguese. A small branch of Brazil inside of Sydney. At the Friday Zouk social? One other Brazilian, besides him.

I lived the other side of this. In Perth, my Samba de Gafieira, Bolero, and Forró students wanted to know the country, the music. Some started learning Portuguese. My Zouk students didn't, because the dance stopped carrying that part of Brazil.

Why Brazilians abroad skip their own dance:

→ The music: Forró has its deities: Dominguinhos, Gonzagão, Gonzaguinha. You know what you're gonna get, regardless of the DJ. A Zouk social? You only hope for the best.

→ The money: I went to Australia as a student immigrant. Some weeks I couldn't afford the bus, so I walked. A Forró party is the whole night for 10-20 bucks. Zouk asks for a months-long course.

→ The tenderness: The Brazilian followers we had in DC left the scene saying, "The guys are too serious. They don't look at me." In Zouk you earn the hugs, the cuddles, the squeezes. At a Brazilian party you get them whether you would like it or not.

So I asked Gui: did we, as community leaders, sell out the dance?

The big takeaway: Brazilian Zouk became so international that a Brazilian walks into our social and doesn't find Brazil in it. They find it at the Forró. That explains why they are missing from the Brazilian Zouk communities.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro

00:43 Gui in Sydney: missing the squeeze

03:20 The epiphany: the Brazilians are at the Forró

06:31 Reason 1: the music stopped being ours

09:56 Reason 2: one class vs months of courses

10:29 Reason 3: you know what you're gonna get

13:24 Did we sell out the dance?

20:00 Rice and beans: two kinds of Brazilians abroad

22:09 Reason 4: money, visas, and commitment

29:12 Reason 5: missing the tenderness

32:18 The double-edged sword of going international

Co-host: Gui Prada

ZoukNerds: https://www.zouknerds.com/

Alisson Sandi: https://www.alissonsandi.com

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/zouk.nerds/

Episode: S06 Ep08 | ZoukNerds Podcast