"You don't want to break up yet. Right?
Possibly the best question I have ever been asked during a cortina.
Ending the dance with someone really can be like a little mini break up. In all the different aspects of a breakup. Sometimes you know that even though you are breaking up, you will get back together later that night. Sometimes you know that this relationship was a complete and utter mistake, and it is better that you both part ways. Other times it is bittersweet, you know that neither of you can take any more, but the time you had was so sweet and perfect. And sometimes it is better if you are just friends.
The tandas that we have are relationships. They are connections that either happen or don't. And when they do happen, they can be anything from playful to sweet to melancholy to intense. No connection is the same, and no connection can be recreated, even if you go back for more at another time, or if you have a "regular" thing.
Maybe that is why it all seems so personal. Who we like to dance with, who asks us to dance, who we want to dance with. Perhaps that is also why jealousy is such an issue in the tango world. We can't bear the thought that someone else is feeling either something different, or something stronger, than we do.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Friday, October 02, 2009
Restless
Has it really been 2 months since I wrote anything?? I guess it has....
How bizarre...
It is not as though nothing has happened. Stuff has happened. I am back at work. Back at school. Organizing tango. Dancing tango. Life and love. And yet every time I think I should write a post, words fail me.
I feel restless. I have been in the same place for quite awhile now, and I am not used to that. The amount of travel that we are doing helps, but it does not change the fact that I feel restless. As is Sorin. Which makes things even more interesting. I want to travel to Europe. I want to go back to BA.
I am home alone this weekend, Sorin is off to Princeton Festival while I have something special happening tomorrow night (I'll write about it Sunday, please hold your thumbs for me that I won't make a fool of myself). And if you are in Boston, please come to Saturday's Tango Paradiso and give me a hug of encouragement around 11:45-ish...
There are some interesting projects in the making, which I will talk about once they are up and going, I don't want to jinx them. But I am hoping that the new projects, which are in addition to all the other projects I have going on (hell, we sleep when we are dead, right???) will help to calm the gypsy in me who is poking at my sides rather insistently.
How bizarre...
It is not as though nothing has happened. Stuff has happened. I am back at work. Back at school. Organizing tango. Dancing tango. Life and love. And yet every time I think I should write a post, words fail me.
I feel restless. I have been in the same place for quite awhile now, and I am not used to that. The amount of travel that we are doing helps, but it does not change the fact that I feel restless. As is Sorin. Which makes things even more interesting. I want to travel to Europe. I want to go back to BA.
I am home alone this weekend, Sorin is off to Princeton Festival while I have something special happening tomorrow night (I'll write about it Sunday, please hold your thumbs for me that I won't make a fool of myself). And if you are in Boston, please come to Saturday's Tango Paradiso and give me a hug of encouragement around 11:45-ish...
There are some interesting projects in the making, which I will talk about once they are up and going, I don't want to jinx them. But I am hoping that the new projects, which are in addition to all the other projects I have going on (hell, we sleep when we are dead, right???) will help to calm the gypsy in me who is poking at my sides rather insistently.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Re-Integration
Things I no longer have to do:
- Flag down the colectivo. Here, the buses stop if you are at the bus stop! How delightful!
I flagged down the bus as I went into the center today, and the driver explained to me that I did not have to do that, he would stop at all bus stops if someone was there. I felt like an idiot. But it became second nature to step to the curb and raise my hand when I saw a bus coming towards me.
- Speak Spanish. Went into the grocery story and asked the lady at the service counter "Donde esta el bano?" She spoke Spanish, so it was not too embarrassing. But after she told me where (in Spanish), she asked me where I was from "Estados Uni.......dos....... doh!" I answered.....I then explained I had spent the last two months in Argentina and was not used to speaking English to people at service counters. And come to think of it, I was not used to service counters! She laughed, thought it was funny, and complimented my accent.
- Hoard coins. I was trying to figure out how to not give the bus my quarters, since I did not have a dollar bill, and then I remembered - it's ok. The US government makes lots of the little shiny discs. I did not need to hoard them to myself. I could feel free to spend them.
- Line dry clothes - my drier and I have become bosom buddies again... I love my drier. And I am not ashamed to admit it! And I have a feeling I will enjoy ironing again now that I do not have t spread a towel on the table to iron Sorin's shirts. But it is 80 degrees today and humid, so no ironing today. That will be another day's joy.
- Flag down the colectivo. Here, the buses stop if you are at the bus stop! How delightful!
I flagged down the bus as I went into the center today, and the driver explained to me that I did not have to do that, he would stop at all bus stops if someone was there. I felt like an idiot. But it became second nature to step to the curb and raise my hand when I saw a bus coming towards me.
- Speak Spanish. Went into the grocery story and asked the lady at the service counter "Donde esta el bano?" She spoke Spanish, so it was not too embarrassing. But after she told me where (in Spanish), she asked me where I was from "Estados Uni.......dos....... doh!" I answered.....I then explained I had spent the last two months in Argentina and was not used to speaking English to people at service counters. And come to think of it, I was not used to service counters! She laughed, thought it was funny, and complimented my accent.
- Hoard coins. I was trying to figure out how to not give the bus my quarters, since I did not have a dollar bill, and then I remembered - it's ok. The US government makes lots of the little shiny discs. I did not need to hoard them to myself. I could feel free to spend them.
- Line dry clothes - my drier and I have become bosom buddies again... I love my drier. And I am not ashamed to admit it! And I have a feeling I will enjoy ironing again now that I do not have t spread a towel on the table to iron Sorin's shirts. But it is 80 degrees today and humid, so no ironing today. That will be another day's joy.
Re-Insertion
So, re-insertion into Boston. Not the pain and suffering I had been warned about. I wonder if it is worse for leaders than followers....
I think that the key is to not expect your home community to be Buenos Aires, or to compare it to Buenos Aires. That is not fair, there is no possible way your home tango could stand up to Buenos Aires. Mecca is Mecca and no place else can come close. So to constantly compare the two can only lead to disappointment and depression. In my mind anyway. Maybe that is a bit Pollyanna of me, but it is how I am approaching this re-acclimation.
Regardless, I ended up dancing the entire night of my first milonga back in Boston, and with only one exception (which was my fault for not watching the leader dance before I accepted, considering I did not know him) - each dance was really enjoyable. I discovered that there was a whole new layer to each leader that I did not hear before. And I was able to be more interactive, also it seemed like I had oodles of time as I stepped. Remember when you were a beginner and it seemed that there was no time to do anything other than step? And even that seemed rushed? Well, now I feel almost languorous at times, as though there was all the time in the world in between beats. It really was a lovely night. I did not get to dance with everyone that I wanted to, but that is ok - I will get to dance with them soon I am sure. :o)
I also really enjoyed being the Shoe fairy - it was like handing out bundles of happiness in satin bags. :o) I have two more shoes to give out, and I am so looking forward to their expressions as well!
I think that the key is to not expect your home community to be Buenos Aires, or to compare it to Buenos Aires. That is not fair, there is no possible way your home tango could stand up to Buenos Aires. Mecca is Mecca and no place else can come close. So to constantly compare the two can only lead to disappointment and depression. In my mind anyway. Maybe that is a bit Pollyanna of me, but it is how I am approaching this re-acclimation.
Regardless, I ended up dancing the entire night of my first milonga back in Boston, and with only one exception (which was my fault for not watching the leader dance before I accepted, considering I did not know him) - each dance was really enjoyable. I discovered that there was a whole new layer to each leader that I did not hear before. And I was able to be more interactive, also it seemed like I had oodles of time as I stepped. Remember when you were a beginner and it seemed that there was no time to do anything other than step? And even that seemed rushed? Well, now I feel almost languorous at times, as though there was all the time in the world in between beats. It really was a lovely night. I did not get to dance with everyone that I wanted to, but that is ok - I will get to dance with them soon I am sure. :o)
I also really enjoyed being the Shoe fairy - it was like handing out bundles of happiness in satin bags. :o) I have two more shoes to give out, and I am so looking forward to their expressions as well!
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
Transitioning back
Back in Boston.
It is so strange to realize that our adventures in Buenos Aires are at an end. We are back home, back in the summer humid heat, and answering the same questions from everyone. Which I do not mind at all, but it is a little surreal.
I have started several posts about being back, and all fell flat. I think I will do segments of reflection as opposed to one long talk back about our time there.
The transition back has not been as abrupt for me as it has been for Sorin, but I think our expectations both for Buenos Aires and for our return are different.
Tonight I pass out the shoes to all the women whom I bought for. It should be a fun, squeeling-ful night. :-) There is nothing like the balm of new shoes to soothe whistful thoughts of another time and place.
:-)
More soon....
It is so strange to realize that our adventures in Buenos Aires are at an end. We are back home, back in the summer humid heat, and answering the same questions from everyone. Which I do not mind at all, but it is a little surreal.
I have started several posts about being back, and all fell flat. I think I will do segments of reflection as opposed to one long talk back about our time there.
The transition back has not been as abrupt for me as it has been for Sorin, but I think our expectations both for Buenos Aires and for our return are different.
Tonight I pass out the shoes to all the women whom I bought for. It should be a fun, squeeling-ful night. :-) There is nothing like the balm of new shoes to soothe whistful thoughts of another time and place.
:-)
More soon....
Monday, July 27, 2009
One of these days, I'll understand the humour.... I hope...
It is Monday, my last Monday in Buenos Aires. 4 more night here, precious little time to waste.
Which is precisely, I feel, why I am not in Canning right now. Where I should be.
It is because the universe has a sense of irony that is well past my puny level of understanding.
I realized that we were out of toilet paper. So I figured I would run to the pharmacia before going to Canning and buy a roll. On my way back from the pharmacia, as I closely watched a group of three kids who looked vaguely up to nothing, which in my book always means something, I stepped on what looked like a solid piece of sidewalk. Instead, it was far from a solid piece of anything, and it was resting one edge on a bare centimeter of earth. Beneath the precariously perched sidewalk section was about a 4 inch drop. Perfect for a really good ankle twisting. Which is exactly what I did. And as I fell the three youths rushed to my side. To offer aid. As I swore in English, Italian and German (because one language is never enough in these situations), the kids helped me up, picked up my toilet paper for me, and one pointed to a huge pile of dog poop that I miraculously did not fall into. I thanked them, they asked if I was ok, I said "Mas o menos" which they thought was hilarious. With every step home my left ankle screamed at me and I muttered the F bomb in response. So here I sit - ice on ankle and glass of wine in hand. And Sorin is out of credits, so he is unreachable by cell. Of course.....
So what else am I going to do but finish one of the posts that I had started. Along with the glass of wine of course.....
*****
It is now the time when I am saying "This is the last _____". Which is sad. I am also starting to say goodbyes. Which is even sadder.
Sunday night was my last Glorieta - and I so love that place. The air had a definite nip to it, there was a humidity to the cold that was not really present until the middle of last week. But there were people there regardless. I had a wonderful time. Enjoyed myself thoroughly. I even enjoyed a dance that was a mistake. I was asked to dance by a very young man, and I accepted. And as soon as we started, I realized that he had no idea what he was doing. And very soon into it, he realized he had no idea what he was doing and started to panic a little. After the song ended I asked him if he danced tango, and apparently he was so moved by watching the class before the milonga, he joined in, so he has had half a class. oh boy. But I don't want to rain on someone's enthusiastic parade. So I talked as much as I could through the second song, and then said "Uno mas?" And we walked out the next couple of minutes to Callo.
After Glorieta, where I had to say two goodbyes to leaders whom I enjoy dancing with thoroughly, I was going to go home. That hard stone gazebo floor is murder on my knees. But, our friend E was disappointed that she did not get to lead me in a milonga, that she asked me to go with the group on to Loca. Now Loca is not my favorite, mostly because the floor is like solid polished ice. And the music is usually less than great. But, E asked, and so I went. And I am actually glad I did. I had some really wonderful dances up until the performance, including a super fun tanda of milonga with E! Whew! The performance was actually phenomenal. This couple, Bruno Tombari and Maria Angeles Caamano, were elegant, engaging and a joy to watch. Let me put it this way - Sorin enjoyed the performance! And they performed 4 songs!
After the performance I did not dance much at all, actually, I did not dance at all for over an hour until the final tanda came on. But this was ok, the level of dancers in the room was amazing. I was at the bottom of the barrel. So I had no problem sitting and watching people who were so much better than I.
And to be honest, the dances that I did have were all superb. So there is that. :o)
Which is precisely, I feel, why I am not in Canning right now. Where I should be.
It is because the universe has a sense of irony that is well past my puny level of understanding.
I realized that we were out of toilet paper. So I figured I would run to the pharmacia before going to Canning and buy a roll. On my way back from the pharmacia, as I closely watched a group of three kids who looked vaguely up to nothing, which in my book always means something, I stepped on what looked like a solid piece of sidewalk. Instead, it was far from a solid piece of anything, and it was resting one edge on a bare centimeter of earth. Beneath the precariously perched sidewalk section was about a 4 inch drop. Perfect for a really good ankle twisting. Which is exactly what I did. And as I fell the three youths rushed to my side. To offer aid. As I swore in English, Italian and German (because one language is never enough in these situations), the kids helped me up, picked up my toilet paper for me, and one pointed to a huge pile of dog poop that I miraculously did not fall into. I thanked them, they asked if I was ok, I said "Mas o menos" which they thought was hilarious. With every step home my left ankle screamed at me and I muttered the F bomb in response. So here I sit - ice on ankle and glass of wine in hand. And Sorin is out of credits, so he is unreachable by cell. Of course.....
So what else am I going to do but finish one of the posts that I had started. Along with the glass of wine of course.....
*****
It is now the time when I am saying "This is the last _____". Which is sad. I am also starting to say goodbyes. Which is even sadder.
Sunday night was my last Glorieta - and I so love that place. The air had a definite nip to it, there was a humidity to the cold that was not really present until the middle of last week. But there were people there regardless. I had a wonderful time. Enjoyed myself thoroughly. I even enjoyed a dance that was a mistake. I was asked to dance by a very young man, and I accepted. And as soon as we started, I realized that he had no idea what he was doing. And very soon into it, he realized he had no idea what he was doing and started to panic a little. After the song ended I asked him if he danced tango, and apparently he was so moved by watching the class before the milonga, he joined in, so he has had half a class. oh boy. But I don't want to rain on someone's enthusiastic parade. So I talked as much as I could through the second song, and then said "Uno mas?" And we walked out the next couple of minutes to Callo.
After Glorieta, where I had to say two goodbyes to leaders whom I enjoy dancing with thoroughly, I was going to go home. That hard stone gazebo floor is murder on my knees. But, our friend E was disappointed that she did not get to lead me in a milonga, that she asked me to go with the group on to Loca. Now Loca is not my favorite, mostly because the floor is like solid polished ice. And the music is usually less than great. But, E asked, and so I went. And I am actually glad I did. I had some really wonderful dances up until the performance, including a super fun tanda of milonga with E! Whew! The performance was actually phenomenal. This couple, Bruno Tombari and Maria Angeles Caamano, were elegant, engaging and a joy to watch. Let me put it this way - Sorin enjoyed the performance! And they performed 4 songs!
After the performance I did not dance much at all, actually, I did not dance at all for over an hour until the final tanda came on. But this was ok, the level of dancers in the room was amazing. I was at the bottom of the barrel. So I had no problem sitting and watching people who were so much better than I.
And to be honest, the dances that I did have were all superb. So there is that. :o)
Friday, July 24, 2009
T-7 and counting.... yikes!
Only one more week left! I can't believe it....
I had my last Spanish class today. And starting today I can say "It's my last Friday night in BA."
The last two days were horrifically cold and wet. If I was in Boston during winter, it would not seem so bad, 35 degrees is not horrific. However, when the house you are in has no insulation, the windows are not meant to keep cold out, and the air is wet with the cold - it is miserable. I stayed in last night because I figured who in their right mind is going to go out?? I cooked in the kitchen for hours to keep warm. I am rather happy Sorin was not around to take a picture, I was wearing leg warmers over my jeans, multiple socks with my muppet slipper-socks over them, long sleeve shirt, 2 sweaters and my scarf. Once I got cooking though, the scarf came off. ;o) But I was a funny sight for sure!
I have a few posts started, and promise to finish them up over the next few days.
I was asked by the fine folks over at KnowTango to write a guest post for their blog about Traditional Milongas and what is needed to make them good. If you are interested, take a gander over to HERE. Please keep in mind that I am by no means an expert, this is simply my opinion based on my short time here in BA and my slightly longer, but still short time in tango in the US Northeast. That said, I am interested in what others think and have to say on the topic. So please feel free to open a discussion there.
More soon!
Chau Chau!
I had my last Spanish class today. And starting today I can say "It's my last Friday night in BA."
The last two days were horrifically cold and wet. If I was in Boston during winter, it would not seem so bad, 35 degrees is not horrific. However, when the house you are in has no insulation, the windows are not meant to keep cold out, and the air is wet with the cold - it is miserable. I stayed in last night because I figured who in their right mind is going to go out?? I cooked in the kitchen for hours to keep warm. I am rather happy Sorin was not around to take a picture, I was wearing leg warmers over my jeans, multiple socks with my muppet slipper-socks over them, long sleeve shirt, 2 sweaters and my scarf. Once I got cooking though, the scarf came off. ;o) But I was a funny sight for sure!
I have a few posts started, and promise to finish them up over the next few days.
I was asked by the fine folks over at KnowTango to write a guest post for their blog about Traditional Milongas and what is needed to make them good. If you are interested, take a gander over to HERE. Please keep in mind that I am by no means an expert, this is simply my opinion based on my short time here in BA and my slightly longer, but still short time in tango in the US Northeast. That said, I am interested in what others think and have to say on the topic. So please feel free to open a discussion there.
More soon!
Chau Chau!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Down then Up
I lost a week.
I am now down to two weeks left in my adventures.
This week I was ill, again. Stomach virus. Blech.
So almost this entire week was lost to me as I was in bed, again.
Rather aggravating.
But yesterday I was well, I felt good, although weak. And decided I was healthy enough and no longer contagious to go dancing. I decided to go to Villa Malcolm with Sorin so that I would be close enough to home if I needed to leave. I felt sure that I would be exhausted by midnight.
So not the case.
I had possibly one of the best nights I have had here. All of my dances were good, most were great. My "worst" dance of the night was still good. And I was so happy to move, so happy to be out of the apartment, that I was moving freely. I was afraid I would have been stiff and slow, but on the the contrary, I felt so alive. So connected to everyone I danced with. I was happy.
And I danced my first Chararera. With a blind man. How awesome is that?!? There is a gentleman from San Francisco here whom I met about a month ago who dances tango. He is an incredible inspiration and watching him dance is awe-filling. I am convinced that he has Spidey-Sense. We danced last night and he asked me if I knew how to dance the Chararera, I said sort of, I had been taught it awhile ago, but I did not really know it. He asked me to find him at the end and dance it with him, so I did. It was a blast, although more exhausting than tango!
So I walked home on shaky weak legs and with a happy heart.
I am now down to two weeks left in my adventures.
This week I was ill, again. Stomach virus. Blech.
So almost this entire week was lost to me as I was in bed, again.
Rather aggravating.
But yesterday I was well, I felt good, although weak. And decided I was healthy enough and no longer contagious to go dancing. I decided to go to Villa Malcolm with Sorin so that I would be close enough to home if I needed to leave. I felt sure that I would be exhausted by midnight.
So not the case.
I had possibly one of the best nights I have had here. All of my dances were good, most were great. My "worst" dance of the night was still good. And I was so happy to move, so happy to be out of the apartment, that I was moving freely. I was afraid I would have been stiff and slow, but on the the contrary, I felt so alive. So connected to everyone I danced with. I was happy.
And I danced my first Chararera. With a blind man. How awesome is that?!? There is a gentleman from San Francisco here whom I met about a month ago who dances tango. He is an incredible inspiration and watching him dance is awe-filling. I am convinced that he has Spidey-Sense. We danced last night and he asked me if I knew how to dance the Chararera, I said sort of, I had been taught it awhile ago, but I did not really know it. He asked me to find him at the end and dance it with him, so I did. It was a blast, although more exhausting than tango!
So I walked home on shaky weak legs and with a happy heart.
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