A decades-old dance party in Miraflores, Peru, has become a lifeline for seniors, but a recent municipal crackdown threatened to shut it down—until public outcry forced a reversal. The story began in 1992 with a dance at the remodeled Miraflores Central Park, and it’s a testament to the power of community and the enduring need for connection in later life.
María Blanca Fannin Flores Laguna, affectionately known as Mrs. Fannin, has been organizing these weekend dances for over ten years, drawing hundreds of people eager to “move the crunchy bones.” Fifteen blocks from Parque 7 de Junio, the 81-year-old carefully carries four-kilo amplifiers, a task made more challenging by her four daughters, five spinal hernias, and thirteen grandchildren.
Mrs. Faning prepared her speakers before the dance, supporting a community built with music and events for her attendees for more than a decade. (Photo: Elías Alfageme)
/ ELIAS ALFAGEME
A Community Built on Rhythm and Resilience
The dances, held between 4:00 pm and 11:00 pm, evolved organically. In the early days, Fannin would watch seniors dancing at the Chabuca Granda Amphitheater with no formal organization. Over time, a community blossomed—people recognizing each other, comparing dance moves, and forging connections. Characters like Pajarito, who dressed in different colored shoes each week based on his previous performance, and Mr. Julio, who claimed to have danced with former mayor Alberto Andrade and often recited poetry, became fixtures.
The appeal isn’t limited to traditional music. While salsa, Creole waltz, bolero, tango, and Carmencita Lara are popular choices, even reggaeton finds a place on the playlist. “They are open to new experiences, don’t let age deceive you,” Fannin says. The “bailetón,” as it’s known, also includes Halloween costume contests, Christmas parties, birthday celebrations, and even collections to help those who are ill.
The people who go are from Miraflores, Surco, San Miguel, Barranco, Chorrillos, there is a lot of influx and word of mouth also creates interest. (Photo: Diffusion)
A Temporary Setback and a Community’s Resilience
Recently, the future of these dances was thrown into question. On January 11, Fannin arrived to find the space occupied by police and security guards, leading to a closure announced for January 16. The Municipality of Miraflores cited complaints about alcohol sales, drug consumption and nighttime chaos generated by crowds as the reason for the temporary shutdown. Fines of 5,600 and 1,600 soles were levied against Fannin for improper use of public space and public disorder.
However, the community rallied. Following the outcry, the Municipality announced the dance’s return, albeit under new rules with municipal management, limited capacity, and increased surveillance. The Chabuca Granda Amphitheater reopened 5:00 to 8:00 pm with official programming.
Despite the resolution, Fannin remains hesitant. “I don’t plan to go back,” she says, contemplating the fines and the emotional toll. She’s exploring alternative locations and determined to keep the community alive, remembering the words of one attendee: “If this hadn’t existed, where else would I be spending my last days?” She clutches the videos of past dances, the greetings from friends, and repeats to herself, “Nobody can take away what you danced,” before heading home with her speakers.
