Caribbean soca dance fitness ignites cultural pride — and calories

“Sweat Yuh Culture!” Feteness founder and instructor Allie Guilbaud hollers on a recent Tuesday night in the studio of Tip Tap Toe Dance Studio in Elmont.

“Sweat Yuh Culture!” the 20 attendees in bike shorts, T-shirts and sports bras holler back.

To the boppy, electronic sound of soca favorite tune, “Cheers to Life,” Guilbaud  and music and dance enthusiasts of every shape and size start their warm-up, sidestepping and arm-swinging in sync. They sing along to the lyrics (“From you wake up this morning, you a winner”), fearlessly facing the mirror and liking what they see.

Never mind solar power; soca power is Long Island’s next great renewable energy source. Feteness — workout classes set to the upbeat pulsing rhythms of Caribbean music — is harnessing the power of the Caribbean to brighten up lives, shine light on culture and torch calories.

Soca, short for “soul of calypso,” began in Trinidad and Tobago as an outgrowth of its multiple cultures, especially African and East Indian. It evolved in the 1970s from sociopolitical commentary to its more social dance party form with influences from other Caribbean music: reggae and Latin rhythms, especially. The movements are simple: stepping side to side and forwards and back, but the fun is in the undulating hip and shoulder movements that each dancer adds to their steps. Every soca dance is like a mini-Carnival, with every dancer adding a unique stamp to the expression.

HIP-SHAKING SOCA 

The sweating begins fast as Guilbaud, known to the class as Allie G., 35, leads the participants in hip-shaking, torso-twisting, fast-stepping, loc-swinging, arm-waving movements set to hot soca, compas, reggae and dance hall hits that has everyone mopping their brows and singing along at top volume for one high-octane hour.

“I grew up dancing and wining (a staple Caribbean hip roll) since I was three years old,” says Guilbaud , an IT business analyst whose parents immigrated from Haiti. “As I got older, I would be at parties and I realized just how much of a workout it is.”

So Guilbaud , a former Baldwin High School dance team captain, began to blend moves drawn from the “bashment” or house parties of Caribbean communities into easy-to-follow sequences set to musical favorites. In March 2019, she began offering classes that integrate the dances she grew up with into workouts, and that honor the memory of her mother.

“The first class was on the twentieth anniversary of my mother’s passing,” Guilbaud says. “I wanted to celebrate her life. On a day that I could have stayed home and cried, instead I celebrated.”

A CELEBRATION OF CULTURE

The name Feteness speaks of celebration. It is a play on “fete” — an Anglo-Franco-Caribbean word for party — combined with fitness. And Guilbaud’s loyal followers come for both fun and fitness, with a side of cultural pride.

Tasia Browne, 37, a teacher from Hempstead, has been taking Feteness classes for two years. Her parents are from Belize. “The unique blend was something I was craving,” she says. “I never thought of soca and fitness together. But here I hear my music and develop friendships that we take outside of Feteness, too. There are many different islands represented, but you don’t often hear Belize called out. Here you do.”

Not everyone has a Caribbean connection. Katherine Bruce, 35, an emergency room physician with roots in Ghana, West Africa, drives out from East Harlem. “There is a lot of diversity,” she explains. “I used to be morbidly obese, so I was self-conscious about my shape, but I felt welcomed, so I kept coming back.”

The pounding rhythms are irresistible. Guilbaud demonstrates moves and each participant lays down their own spice, fearlessly wining and rolling and waving flags of their heritage countries: Brazil, Antigua and Barbuda, Guyana, Haiti. It is like Carnival, and culminates in a Soul Train style hip-hop line, with everyone cheering each other on.

Feteness recharges the inner batteries and renews the spirit, no matter where you are from, participants say.

Symone Townsend, 50, was born in Jamaica, but lives in Elmont. She keeps coming back, she says, because “first and foremost, it’s Allie’s personality; she’s a great motivator. Then, for the dance routines, for the sisterhood; a place for women to get together for fun and fellowship.”