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

I'll be honest. I walk into a social and I pick who to dance with in about three seconds, and most of the time I don't even decide it. My body decides for me.

In this episode of Brazilian Zouk podcast ZoukNerds, Gui Prada and I pull apart that decision nobody talks about: the hidden social hierarchy I see in every dance community, including the ones I run.

Why does everyone sit in the same spot every party:

→ Find the DJ. The teachers are right there. We call it the red carpet, and the dancers who most want to be seen sit around it.

→ The opposite corner stays dark on purpose. Gui put his hands up here: without his current position, that's exactly where he'd be.

→ Back at Jaime Arôxa in Rio, they trained the older ladies to stand and move a little, to show they were ready. We went straight to them. No mistake.

But the harder question is who I actually invite, and why. We landed on five reasons, and the first one is the one I least want to admit:

→ Attraction. Not hitting on anyone. A subconscious pull I don't even notice.

→ Respect and age. I'm 38. A 22-year-old is too young for me to feel comfortable asking.

→ Ability. Some of us leaders are like a dog that wants to free run in the park.

→ Closeness to power. Are you friends with the organizer? That's the big one.

→ My comfort zone.

The big takeaway: I've stopped trying to dismantle the hierarchy. The friendliest scenes don't either. They transcend it while staying in it. I leave my group for one dance, then come back.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro: back in the same room, one year later

01:30 The hidden hierarchy nobody talks about

02:00 How you scan a room the second you walk in

03:50 The red carpet: where the DJ and teachers sit

06:00 The dark corner vs the main floor at Taiwan Zouk Festival

08:06 Alisson's three modes: unknown, invited teacher, local dancer

13:31 Jaime Arôxa: training the ladies to show they're ready

17:00 The five things that decide who you invite to dance

20:18 Comfort zone and the age gap

25:41 Closeness to power: the politics of the floor

34:21 The takeaway: transcend the hierarchy without dismantling it

Co-host: Gui Prada

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

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

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

Episode: S06 Ep07 | ZoukNerds Podcast

Brazilian Zouk costs me sleep. I'm in Taiwan right now and I've finally built a schedule that lets me rest. The rest of the year? Time zones, late socials, weekends that bleed into the next week. 23 years in and I still pay for it every Monday.

In this Q&A episode, Gui Prada and I read Veronique Dupont's question from our ZoukNerds Facebook Group: what is the ONE biggest benefit of dancing Brazilian Zouk, and the ONE biggest disadvantage?

Both of us landed on the same disadvantage. The benefits we picked are different. And the deeper answer doesn't show up until minute 12.

The first cost is the easy one: your sleep.

→ Touring life means no schedule. Time zones, different weather, different bed every weekend.

→ Teaching ends at 10:30 p.m. By the time you close, eat, wind down, it's 1 a.m. The festival weekend pushes that to 4.

→ My current answer is the Chunked Travel Schedule. Three or four weeks on. Two months of recovery off. We are not the crazy 20-year-olds that started this.

For me, the benefit is mental and emotional exploration. Teaching is not lecturing. It's workshopping with whoever shows up that night.

For Gui, the benefit is the people. His 15-year-old self in Rio didn't know people from São Paulo. Now he records with me in Taiwan for listeners in Sydney, Japan, Vietnam, Indonesia.

The closing reframe: the deeper disadvantage is what the dance exposes in you. For Gui, shyness. For me, perfectionism and the 10-15 extra iterations I need as a non-natural dancer. This dance is not therapy. It is highly therapeutical.

Chapters:

00:00 Intro: Veronique's "one thing only" question

01:05 Alisson's benefit: mental and emotional exploration

02:14 Alisson's disadvantage: sleep schedule and touring life

03:10 Gui's benefit: the people you'd never have met

03:30 Gui's 15-year-old-self gratitude anchor

04:57 Gui's disadvantage: the resting part

06:40 The Chunked Travel Schedule

08:24 Gui's Rio-shyness disadvantage

10:18 Alisson on perfectionism

11:16 The 10-15x learning iterations confession

12:53 Closing reframe: the dance is a mirror to your fragility

Co-host: Gui Prada

Listener question from: Veronique Dupont — ZoukNerds Facebook Group

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

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

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

Episode: S06 Ep06 | ZoukNerds Podcast