by Sophie Leegwater –
A few minutes before 4:30 pm on a Monday afternoon in early January 2024, I hop into the yellow cab that takes me to Adrenalina Studio, one of the pole dance studios in the city, owned by Bryan. Through the stories of Bryan and Tiffany, two pioneers in pole dancing in Manta, I explore how feminine movement and spatial safety are shaped within the turbulence of daily life.
The ride from home to Bryan’s pole studio is short; walking would take no more than ten minutes. Nevertheless, with Ecuador currently being in a state of national emergency, I barely set foot outside on my own. Since the most-wanted drug lord ‘Fito’ escaped the prison in Guayaquil on Sunday, 8 January, there is a tense atmosphere hovering through the country and people are taking shelter at home. It reminds me of the lockdowns during the pandemic: the streets are empty, there is almost no traffic and bars and clubs are closed due to the national curfew enacted as a measure against drug-related violence. The normally turbulent sound of the neighbourhood has made place for a rare, almost mystical silence; even the street dogs have stopped barking.
Two or three minutes later, the cab arrives and a wave of heat washes over me as I step out of the car. Bryan waves as I walk to the white iron framework that separates the studio from the street. He unlocks the small padlock hanging on the door and greets me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek as I enter the studio. He is wearing his usual red hat backwards and his grey tank top shows tattoos on his muscular shoulders. The mirrors covering most of the back wall in the studio are slightly warped, which stretches my figure a bit taller and funnier than I normally look. Although I am the first student to arrive, Britney Spears is already blasting through the speakers. We speak for a bit about the situation in the country and I ask him how he handles it. He tells me:
‘Currently, given the danger the city is facing [..] I’m surprised there are students at all. But well, I think it is something we have to learn to live with. As long as there is a locked door and we are here among ourselves, I think we can be calm while training’.
Inside this studio, safety is experienced on two levels: physical protection, represented by the lock on the door, and feminine safety through a space where women feel the freedom to express themselves through movement.
Tiffany, the owner of the second-oldest pole dance studio in Manta, named Cosmos, takes the philosophy a step further, creating an environment for women to heal and explore themselves. Her vision extends beyond teaching students tricks and figures on the pole: Cosmos is perceived as a centre where women come to heal, each moving through their own process and finding personal value in what they are working on within themselves; physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
On a Saturday morning after class, I follow Tiffany to her backyard to converse about the development of pole dance in Manta and her experiences with starting an academy. As I cross the doorway, I step on driftwood planks which form a decking in front of a wild and grassy garden. Next to my foot, I see a fluffy golden puppy of six weeks old with hanging ears and little black beady eyes. I let my sore fingers from the training comb through the soft baby fur shimmering in the morning light of the sun. Tiffany brings me to her treehouse, about a metre above the ground and accessible via a small ladder. She places her half-full cup of tea on the table and pulls one foot up, making herself comfortable under the shadow of the tree. She tells me: ‘Pole is therapy. Pole is not only a sport. Pole is sanación (healing); feminine empowerment’. This sense of sanación extends further, into the wild flowers and the unmown grass in the garden, to the young pups Tiffany rescued when she found them abandoned in the ditch along the street.
I recognize this in my own experience. Through pole dance, I learned to trust my body to hold me as my hands let go of the pole, a lesson that has carried over into everyday life. Sometimes you have to loosen your grip in order to move forward. With one exception, all of my research participants shared stories about how pole dancing impacted their lives, often describing it as transformative and life-changing. Within the sheltered environment of the studios, they found a momentary escape from the turbulence of the country and societal pressure, building confidence through feminine movement and physical strength.
Sophie Leegwater is a master’s graduate of the VU Anthropology programme and is currently living in Ecuador