Tangobunny's Blog

So . . .when we were all three back in the car and heading to M’s apartment in Vancouver BC, I said, “So, ladies, what was you best tanda tonight?” Queenie said hers was dancing with M–I was surprised because she’s danced with the lead singer again–from Sexteto–and she danced with him last night too—and with other guys in the band….M’s was Javier . . .she said he doesn’t lead–he just feels–and when she began to do that too–it was amazing–her heart opened . . . I said mine was with Vladi . . . I’d never met him–but from the first few bars of the first song–he did not release the embrace until the tanda was completed—it was exciting, surprising by turns, really connected . . .At one moment I flashed on my conversatiohn with my host, Eduardo, about how hard it is or him to navigate his feelings and attractions to women when  dancing at the milonga. . . .and how I said I never feel attracted to the guys—. . . oops,until now–and all at once I was and I knew I was and he knew too (I saw it in his eyes and in his smile)and he was too and it was . . . .tango bliss. . . .  .and when the tanda was completed he did finally release the embrace and we stood there smiling at one another–he hugged me and I hugged him and he said, “It was a privilege . . .” and I said, “The pleasure was mine!” When the evening was over he nodded to me as he left and I nodded back–but I wanted to say, “wait, wait . . .I am leaving BC in the a.m. . . . .when will I see you? . . .but of course I didn’t–not out loud.

Six years ago I was in a small hotel in Ricoletta with my daughter, Hope. Every morning we feasted on media luna and dulce de leche–small coisants and a thick caramel sauce. Mmmmm . . . .seductively good! Tonight I was at the PPAA for the milonga–I arrived late but had a credible number of tandas and some were rather lovely dances–like with Gee, for instance–just seamless dancing, like floating across the floor–Mr. Dreamy I now call this one.  (His lovely wife is also a lovely dancer and delights when I tell her how much I enjoy dancing with her guy.) I sat out the next to last tanda and decided if no one came for me, I’d go home.  I didn’t see any gals around who were my regular followers so I wasn’t going to change shoes to lead. I was okay.  Then I saw him moving from across the room, up to the stage where the d.j. sat, then around and down towards me.  It was an effort to come that distance, dodging the dancers as he circled the perimeter of the floor.  I was the only woman left sitting on my side of the room as the place had thinned considerably so it was for me he made this journey!  Great.  He was the one I wanted to dance with, a new face on the floor tonight and clearly a confidant dancer.  And there he was, standing in front of me, beconing me onto the dance floor. The first song was explosive.  Right away he said with his body: Boom, boom, I am here, let’s dance!  I know you know how!  And I knew he knew because I saw him watching me earlier. So . . . we did, reaching out in long, gliding steps. In the small interlude between songs I said, ” I don’t recognize you–where are you from?”  He didn’t understand and said, “I’m French.”  Oh, I thought, this is not the out-of-towner I thought he was. There’s another in town, recently moved from somewhere in the Carolinas.  My teacher told me about him earlier today and this is not that guy.  But this is . . . . some kinda guy! The music starts and we are off again–I am an active follower and now he’s getting in touch with this–I can sense he likes the challenge–but it’s also, well . . .a lot of work too–No resting here. . . no, no, no.  Nor for me.  He’s good–very good–but not as sensitive as I’d like–a bit rough on the edges-(maybe just that this is our introductory tanda?)—yet, sooo very energetic and complex.  I know right away I want to dance with this one again. “So, why are you here?”  “Business.”  “And for how long.”  “Just one week.”  “So short!” “Yes.”  “Oh, well . . .”    Then more dancing. He says “Thank you.”  But I know the tanda is not done and I wonder what’s up–is he done?   It turns out: no–not exactly–he asks my name–I ask his–Donny–but prounounce the o as uuuuu.  Not easy-very French. Then we  dance the final song, he figures it out–and after he says-thru a kind of deer-in-the-headlights expression (or so it seemed) “Have an nice evening” . . . . and he goes . . .I drive home–40 minutes, wondering what was going on in the mind behind that expression—-It’s nearly 1 a.m. and against all my good intentions–I begin to snack on dolma, green beans and a bit of ham, a small glass of malbec.  Then I find the jar of dulce de leche dulce in the cupboard . . . dulce de leche!   I savour a spoonfull bit by bit on the tongue, making it  last as long as possible.  A perfectly lovely little dessert for a perfectly lovely little evening.

So . . . it’s crucial to apologize when you crash into another couple on the floor–or, maybe, when you trip your partner and she lands on the floor!  Yep–you had better apologize and profusely.  Howsomever–no apologies are necessary and they are actually a distraction in the midst of a dance.  Why?  Well, shucks, honey: it may not have been you at all.  If you apologize you open a whole can of wormy worms . . .yuk–don’t need it.  And–gosh oh golly, how it slows everything down!  What should you do when something happens–that is, something not right—she didn’t follow or you didn’t lead so well . . . .What to do?  Best choice: Nada, nunca, nooooo thing!  Just go with the flow: make it into something  . . . risk  into a new land!  Be inventive–not apologetic.  If nervous laughs emerge–so be it–loosen up, relax, laugh and enjoy.  After all, it’s just dancing!

Andy from StLouie arrived on Thursday evening at the milonga, with his lady and to check out the scene here in Portland. I noticed this handsome stranger from afar across the room and also noticed several regulars going to him and shaking hands, etc etc-obviously welcoming him. So, said I to my young lovelyfriend, Caitie, I think I’ll go introduce myself too.  And so I did. And, so you dance tango, said I. Yes.  And not skipping even one beat: Would you like to dance? he said,  with amazingly wide and expectant eyes! And we did . . . and he DOES indeed dance tango–lovely and well. AND this one has a way with words – – – after the second song he smiled a big, beautiful smile and let slip out between that shiny white smile, such a word: Wicked!   Ahhhh, such a delightful compliment.  I soaked ait all up! Happy, happy me! This only to be exceeded by his comment today-after we danced at the Sunday matinee practica, and-in reference to the way I dance turns–( naturally-my beloved teacher Alex Krebs gets all the credit!)—Perfect! Andy smiled. I have never done it like that–it’s perfect! Ahhhh . . . .she is thinking: I am his forever now–anytime he visits our fair city–I must dance with him . . .he really is quite, quite lovely:-)

I imagined it would be good to write about my Valentango experience each day, but somehow that idea faded with my energy after hours and hours of classes and milongas and practicas. Valentango is one of two annual tango festivals here in Portland, OR and as the title suggests, it comes near Valentines Day in February and lasts from Wednesday evening til Monday evening.  It’s been going on much longer than I have been dancing the Argentine tango, which is about six years now.  This year my experience at the festival was the best I have ever had and can be summed up in a word: sublime.  I had many great tandas, several new and delightful dance partners, some delightful new friendships were begun and other friendships were deepened.  Oh yes–and I learned a few new moves as well!  I even found a lovely guy who was willing to trade the lead back and forth a little. That was rather awesome, I must say!  Bonus:I bought not one pair of shoes!  Thanks be to God!  They are more expensive at the festivals. (But I am shopping on line as we speak!) 🙂 It’s Monday after the last full day and there is one last milonga tonight. I will go. I did not manage the last two milongas last night because after I taught a ballroom class until 7:30pm  and found my feet could barely hold me without agonizing pain, and I also began to realize my body was screaming for rest, beautiful and horizontal REST . . . I opted out and laid low with the boys (Charlie and Ellis, my big “garfield” cats); even got almost eight hours of sleep!  Today I previewed a couple of films for my church: Call Me Malcolm and Departures.  The first was revelatory, the second was emotionally cathartic—in a good way!  I’ll use them both soon.  Then, a little while ago I noticed my feet are somewhat swollen . . . oh my . . . . oh dear; a new wrinkle!   So, out came the ice and I suspect I’ll probably need to repeat that process later tonight when I get home.  It’s currently raining and blowing hard outside, but I am undaunted.  Must have tango . . . . must have tango . . . .really must have a little happy tango to-daaay!  Got my little heart shaped earings in place . . . off I go!

Often as I am waking up in the morning there is tango music playing in my head and I soon realize I am also dancing . . .in my head. Today it was a milonga and I was leading, perfectly of course . . . just gliding across the floor. It’s hard work to drag oneself into waking consciousness, to wake up from such bliss! Why would I want to?

Every Milonga is an oppportunity to have a new experience—-you may, as I have,
meet someone new at the milonga–have a whole new feeling then about the community–That is what happens when you meet somone new in the tango community–you have a whole new feeling about it–and you and us! So-last night I met an archeologist! I am a pastor–in the last quarter of my journey on the earth–she–in the first–or–maybe–second–hard to tell—nevertheless–I said, “Hi, I don’t think we have met . . I’m Bunny” “Hi” she said–I’m Caitlin. . . . and then we were off–I see you every night– . . .. yes–I see you too . . . .etc etc etc—why didn’t you dance with that guy–he’s smooth–Oh–I am just so tired and sore from my exercise class–didn’t think I’d dance at all tonight— . . . . Oh . . .and now some guy comes and I go to dance . . . but now we are connected . . . . . .we found each other–I know she loves to teach–loves being an archeologist–and I know one can make a living doing that–there is work to be had etc etc . . . . .who would guess—she’s lovely, tallish, blonde, beautiful, slinky black dress–nice dancer . . has learned mostly from going to milongas–not classes–grad student economy etc—. very sweet. . .mmmmmm  . . . .The night before–Sunday–a new milonga opened—celebrating nuevo tango musica–the organizer and host–has NEVER ever asked me to dance —but this night he did–twice– . . . .the dancing was very nice indeed . . . creative and musical–but the next night–it was as if I was invisible–I hate this about the milonga codes— . . .it’s gotta evolve . . . really . . . .I am  so glad to now be able to lead . . . .(Kate Wolf sang once: “You can’t take me anywhere I don’t already know how to go” . . . .)  Oh my gosh!  The ladies were so after me at the Sunday night milonga–there was a great dirth of male leads–so sad–but hey–for us ladies–it’s really not about anything but the dancing . . . .well . . . . . mostly!  Sunday night was awesome.  Monday night : my favorite regular partner was divine! Stan is the man! So musical–so lovely!  I go home sweetly tired, full of joy and gratitude!

I hate breaks from tango dancing.  All I think about is what I am missing.  Tonight I am on a break–not self imposed exactly–I had a meeting for work and it went late–too late–and suddenly I am missing my tango class I paid hard cash to take and sadly—I am also now missing the practica I always go to on Tuesdays . . . .aaaaahhhhhhh . . . . So- I need to rememeber what Chino said to me when I was away from BsAs for several days, out in Santa Fe, AR, and feeling sad because I wasn’t dancing . . .he said, “Don’t worry . . .it’s sometimes good to take a break from dancing; then when you return–it will be there–it will be fresh again . . .it will be good.  There will be plenty of dancing when you return.”

I doubt I quote him exactamente–por favor!  Pero–it’s more or less–mas o meno–the concept at least.   Breaks happen . . . .relax. Tango will be there when you return.

And when you return it will be good–maybe better-because you come now with a freshness that only a break provides.  

Such wisdom from a lovely, young Argentinian teacher, barely 27 years old! An old soul for sure.

Despues, may it be so . . . . according to the wisdom of Chino!  Come to me—–milonga!

They say that life is what happens while you are making plans!  Most people can identify with that one.  So, I had all these great plans for the days around New Years, and then the flu came to call.  Alas.  So many milongas missed!  Classes cancelled! Somehow, by grace, I was able to manage teaching my ballroom class last Sunday night, but Monday found me back in bed again.   Argentine tango is such an intimate dance, one wants and expects ones partners to come to the dance floor in good health.  This too will pass, I am sure.  But could it be today, please!

Culture Shock Argentina is the title of a book my daughter Hope gave me to help prepare me for my visit to AR. And it did, kind of. But I never really felt shocked so much until I returned home a month ago to Beavercreek, OR. Every day for four weeks I thought only of getting back to Buenos Aires and my friends there. The pain of separation was surprising and the longing to return just lingered and lingered. A week ago my tango tgeacher Alex told me, “Don’t worry, in a couple more weeks you’ll start feeling better -you’ll still have your memories but you won’t be pining all the time for BsAs.” I thought he was totally wrong in this case. But I have been dancing a lot–almost every day. This week I have been out to the milonga every day so far–four in a row–and every night I have danced a lot. Tonight a lovely youn g man came to dance with me for the first time–Nate. He’s subtle and complex–the kind of dance I love . . .after the first song of the tanda he looked at me and said, “Wow you are really good–how long have you been dancing?” “All my life,” my standard reply–and it’s true, mas o menos! I also danced with MoMo-an amazing tanda of milonga–really lovely and creative–with MoMo I really connect–I don’t even think, I just move to the music. It’s very cool. MoMo is a tango rapper–quite a rareity this one! He’s destined for some stary days ahead. I had several other tandas tonight, dancing most of the time and stayed to closing before driving the 40 minutes back to Beavercreek. I have decided to go back BsAs as soon as possible–maybe end of January-for a few days, maybe 9 or 10. I need to touch bases, gather some more stories from my young friends for the writing project I have started and just reconnect. My time in BsAs took on a dreamlike quality and in a way I could let it be just that–But it was real, very rich and deep and wonderful and real. This first return trip is a pinch just to make sure.