Cantinero Nights — and the Silence After the Music There was a time when my life moved to the rhythm of zouk and kizomba. It all started when my wife and I took salsa lessons before our wedding. We didn’t want the usual quickstep — we wanted something with soul. That search for rhythm led us to zouk, and soon, dancing became part of who we were. I wasn’t the best dancer, but I danced with heart. Over time, my passion for the music grew stronger than my steps. I began collecting songs, spending hours online looking for new tracks that made people move. One night, someone asked, “Why don’t you DJ?” And just like that, I found myself behind the decks — spinning the music I loved. My favorite place to play was Cantinero, a small bar tucked behind the Heineken brewery in Amsterdam. Up front, people ate tapas and laughed. But if you slipped past the kitchen, through a narrow passage, there was a secret back room — dim lights, warm air, a little chaos, and a lot of magic. It reminded me of Dirty Dancing — hidden, alive, real. There I stood, behind my Pioneer SL1200s, watching couples move as one — soft, slow, and connected. For a few hours every Sunday, life made sense. I didn’t do it for the money; the fifty euros I earned went straight into new CDs. It was never about profit — it was about the pulse of people, the energy in the room, and the feeling of belonging to something larger than myself. But like every rhythm, mine had a darker beat too. One night, I had an argument at home — I don’t even remember why. Probably the drinking; in those days, alcohol was the way I tried to drown what I couldn’t face. On the way to a gig in Utrecht, I stopped at a liquor store, bought a bottle of vodka, and went to play. I woke up in the hospital the next morning. That night ended my DJ career. Maybe it was already ending before that — but that was the final song. Still, when I think back to those Cantinero nights — the music, the sweat, the laughter, the secret little room behind the kitchen — I smile. It was real. It was alive. And even though I lost my way for a while, I learned something that still guides me today: The music ends, but the rhythm stays — if you learn to listen to the silence that follows #dance #Zouk #Kizomba