TangoSpam:La Vida Con Deby

Would you like to come over?

Last week my friend Linda was here visiting from the Bay Area.  She became a part of my pack so to say.  She hung out with me and my friends.  At one point when we were together she told me that she thought I was doing well living here in Buenos Aires.  "You seem really happy, much calmer than when you lived in the Bay Area." she said to me. Linda teased me.  "You are the same."  She said to me.  "Always busy.  Always doing something. Only now it is different things."

We had  lots of conversations about lifestyle differences.  She is no stranger to living in another country.  She moved to the U.S. from England more than 10 years ago.  She told me that even though the language is the same, there are still cultural differences.  More than most people would imagine.

Linda like most of my friends, knows, that I did not move here for tango.  I moved here because I like the life here.  I did not come here to "reinvent" myself. To become another person. Or become something I could not be elsewhere. I had a great life in California. Lots of friends and many many good things.  There was always this little piece missing.  I found it here.  I am nocturnal.  I can be nocturnal here and not be alone.  I also like to be around people.  Here in Argentina, if you are alone, as one of my friends Vero says, "There is something wrong with you."

In North American the thrust is for privacy.  Here everyone knows your business.  Sometimes I have to remind myself not to talk to my North American guests the same way I do with my Argentine friends.  We talk about everyone and everything concerned with everyone.  It is just how it is.  I know things about people I only met once or never met.  Because my friends talk about their friends, their family.  In North America this would be considered bad form.  Here it is normal.  I am no longer amazed now when I meet people for the first time and they know all about me.

The other thing I like is how friendships are.  I have been asked many times by other ex-pats if the Argentines I know ever invite me to their homes. This is kind of an interesting question. North Americans are proud of their homes.  I tell my Argentine friends how when you go to the home of a person the first time they always give you a tour.  Or if they change something, they want you to see it. Events are created around new homes, new couches, new bathrooms.

My Argentine friends think this is funny.  When Sandra moved into her new apartment I asked her if I could see the rest of it.  She did not offer a tour.  This is standard for most of my friends.  Seeing their apartment or house is not on the agenda.  Having mate or dinner is.

I do go to the homes of my friends.  They invite me for one reason or another.  The thing is, most of the time we go out.  The main reason is space.  Most apartments are much smaller than apartments in North America.  That and people come from different sides of the city, so we tend to meet somewhere easy for all of us.  OR around an event like shopping in Plaza Serrano, or the theater or a movie.

The other thing I notice is that people here keep their friends forever.  I think this might be the reason why many people who come here find it difficult to meet "locals" and develop deep friendships. (Besides the language) People tend to keep their friends from grammar school.  They stay in their same little groups.  Many of my friends meet with their grammar school friends once a month to have dinner. Some go in groups as large as 20 or more.

I think people in North America are more migratory.  I changed states and parts of the country twice before I moved here.  In California I lived mostly in the North, but I lived for a time in the South.  I moved many times in the 31 years I lived there.  I have no contact with anyone from grammar school, although several old friends from high school have found this blog and emailed me.  They too have migrated from our old stomping grounds to other parts of the country.

Here people tend to stay put.  Not only in the same country, but in the same apartment.  People live at home with parents longer.  People don't sell apartments and trade up.  Not unless they have a reason.  A new baby, someone dies, gets married, life events. 

The thing I like is sharing time with my friends.  I shared time with my friends in the U.S. but not in the same way.  Like wanting to have coffee with my friends in California.  I had to make an appointment, put it in my agenda, sometimes for 6 weeks in advance.  Here I just call one of my friends "Quieres tomar un cafe?" and we meet.

Weekends here are for friends and family.  My weekends before were for me.  Saturdays I meet friends to go shopping, go to lunch, have mate.  Recently on Sundays we have been doing lunches too.  Last week Sandra locked herself out of her apartment not once but two times.  The first time she had to go to a locksmith.  The second time I asked our friend Jorge if he knew how to open doors.

He has lots of businesses and is one of those handy kind of guys.  I figured it was worth asking.  After staying out until 5:00 am with me, Sandra, and Linda, he went over to Sandra's at 11:00.  Sandra of course ended up staying at my house because she couldn't get into hers.  At noon I came over to have mates with her and Jorge.  Then Linda came over.  Sandra cooked Sunday lunch, and then later we all went for coffee.  Other than the B&E of Sandra's door, this was a normal Sunday.  Lunch with friends.

I am finding that every Sunday we are together.  A group of us.  Sometimes one of cooks.  Sometimes we meet in a restaurant.  We are always together sharing.  This for me is a big difference.  Before my house was my sanctuary.  Somewhere I could run and hide from the world.  Be alone.  Now my doors are wide open.  Like the arms of my friends.

The Milonga Chronicles: Where is everyone?

My guest Gigi and I decided to go out together.  Well actually we didn't.  She wanted to go to Dandi and I wanted to go to Gricel.  I did not have high hopes for either place, but it is Wednesday and a dancing day for me.

Patricio and Adriana have moved their milonga from Palermo SoHo to Gricel.  The restaurant where the milonga has been held was closed down.  Like a good trooper, I always follow them to their new venues.  I feel bad for them.  All of their marketing materials are for Gricel on Mondays and Palermo SoHo on Wednesday.  Now they have moved.  They are in the milongas passing out flyers.  I feel strongly about supporting them.  I have known Patricio for years.

At the last minute Gigi and I share a taxi.  I figure we can drop me first at Gricel and then she can go on to Dandi.  At the last minute I tell the driver to change and go to Dandi first.  I tell Gigi that way I can peek in the door and see what is happening.  "You´re going to just leave me?"  she ask.  I shake my head yes.  "I don't want to pay 13 pesos to enter when there is absolutely no one for me to dance with.  I love Gloria, but not that much."

When we enter I see Gloria. She is sitting with Carlos.  She has a big smile on her face.  I go to greet them both.  The place is not very full at all.  The ratio of women is like 5 to 1.  I see almost no one that I know.  I can't back out now that Gloria has seen me.  Gigi goes to sit with some of her friends.  I go to sit with Gloria and Carlito.

Carlos amuses himself by playing "Name that Tango" with me.  I amuse me by pretending I don't know the names of any of them.  It drives him crazy.  "Nena," he says to me, "How can you dance like an angel and know nothing of the music."  I always just smile at him and tell him I always forget when he quizzes me.  It always gives him an opportunity to tell me all about the music - the orchestra, the singer, the words. 

He tells me that "my friend" went to Colombia.  I tell him I know.  He is on a fact finding mission.  I am not sure who is playing with who. Cat and mouse....  I tell him I am bored, I want to go to Gricel.  He says to me to wait, and we can go together.  "Tell your pretty friend."  I tell Gigi we are going to Gricel.  "Her eyes shoot open wide "Don't leave me!"  I tell her not to worry, Carlos has invited her too.  She comes to sit at the table with us.

Now I am not sure who is amusing who.  Carlos says to me "I know you don't have a boyfriend. You are too difficult.  How about her?"  I start to say no when Gigi looks him in the eye and goes, "Yes, I have 5." It was so funny and so unlike her. He tells me "You should learn from her."  Gigi and I laugh.

We get in the taxi and go to Gricel.  I tell her not to worry.  Carlos is a sweetheart when he wants to be. He has invited us.  All the way there the 3 of us talk.  I know Carlos thinks we are both crazy.  He does not usually get exposed to foreign women.

We get to Gricel and I can see by the lack of cars out front that it probably is not very crowded inside. We go in.  Patricio, Adriana, are thrilled to see us.  I peek around the curtain.  There are maybe 20 people.  The only difference between here and Dandi is these are locals. 

It doesn't matter what table we sit at.  Carlos tells the waitress to bring us whatever we want.  Then he starts on me.  "What is this song?"  he asks me.  I know it is La Pavadita.  I tell him I don't know.  This gets him going "How can you dance when you do not know the music?"  I say to him "Well, you know the music. How come you don't dance?" He hits me on the head.

I look at the floor.  Gigi is dancing.  I tell her who to dance with.  I know everyone here.  She is in heaven.  Carlos asks me why I am not dancing.  I tell him "I don't want to."  He tells me to dance with this guy that I do not think dances very well.  I tell him  He tells me I am crazy, the guy is a teacher. "Big deal."  I tell him.  "They are all teachers."

He stares at me.  "You do not like to dance with anyone."  "Not true," I say to him.  "I like to dance with your friend."  He doesn't say anything.  He just stares at me.  "He can dance." I say to him. "He's just an asshole" is what I want to really say, but don't.  Instead I just smile. Cat and mouse...

Carlos insists I dance with that guy I don't want to dance with.  OK.  What can I do.  The guy is shocked. He knows I would not dance with him under any other circumstance.  I do my best.  I know he is nervous. Pata dura, mano dura, and no sense of the music.  No surprise there.  He thanks me for the dance. I go back to my table.

"Y?" Carlos says. "Y que?"  I answer.  "Pata dura, mano dura, no sentido por la musica."  Carlos tells me I am crazy.  "Do you like to dance with anyone?"  he asks.  I just look at him.  "Do you have to ask that question?" I answer.  Cat and mouse...

It is not even 1:00 am and the place is starting to empty.  It is sad.  What is happening to our milongas?  Eduardo invites me to dance.  He asks me why I came so late.  I tell him how we went to Dandi first. He asks me how it was.  I tell him, like here, but without good dancers and locals.

He thinks for a moment.  "You know, the organizers don't get it."  I know what he is going to say. "For us it is a 50 peso night.  The taxi, the entrance, something to drink.  Who can do this more than a couple of times a week?"  I agree with him.  I tell him that I am lucky I can split the taxi with friends or the people staying with me.

"I don't know what will happen to our tango." he says to me.  "Before I could go out 5 nights a week. When milongas were less."  I agree with him.  "Here is 20 people who paid $13 pesos to get in.  If they charged $10 pesos, maybe they would get 50."  He thinks about it.  He looks sad. 

I go back to the table.  Carlos asks me if I liked that dance.  "Eduardo is my friend."  I tell him.  I like to dance with him.  Carlos looks around.  The club is almost empty.  There are maybe 5 of us left.  It is only 1:00 am.  "Where is everyone?"  he asks me.  "I guess it is time to go."

Morí para este baile

Patricio and Adriana have moved their milonga to Gricel.  Tonight is the first night. Sandra and I have free entrances.  We decide to go.  Capo Lento (Who is now called Harry Potter) will meet Sandra there.  They always have their rendezvous on Wednesday nights. 

Patricio is happy to see us.  He has reserved a special table for us.  Adriana is used to us sitting at my table.  She is confused when Patricio tells her no, he has another table for us.  He leads us to the front row of tables facing the floor.  Sandra gasps.  "If Emilio comes I do not want him sitting next to me."   (Her ex)  Patricio is not sure what to say.  He tells he doesn't think he will come.  "Do not sit him next to me." She tells him again.

There are few people here.  There was not much publicity about the change of venue.  I hope a lot of people did not go to Palermo because they did not know the milonga moved here.  There are not many people here to dance with.  We watch a couple who were in the class before the milonga.  We cannot help but laugh.  They look like a tango cartoon.  You can tell they have spent hours trying to perfect steps only the most polished professional could do.  They do not realize that they should have spent hours on learning how to walk elegantly.

I look up.  I see my friends.  A couple of men I know who come here to dance.  I know from their steps my ex was their teacher.  I tell Sandra to look.  Then we are both horrified, because right behind them is Roberto and another friend.  Worse than that, Patricio smiles as he leads them to the table directly behind us.  I cannot believe this.  I feel like I am part of a bad movie. What is he doing?

Juan comes over to greet me.  " I brought Roberto." He says to me as he leans down to kiss me.  I want to say "No joke" or really bad joke.  I do not understand this.  What is going on here?  I want to vomit. I feel like I am in a remake of "Night of the Living Dead."  I tell Sandra.  She tells me to "Shut up."  (I must stop teaching her English) "You look beautiful. Just ignore him."  Then she laughs, "Poor Patricio, first I tell him not to put Emilio near us, and now you have Roberto." 

We watch him dance. "What the hell happened to his dancing?"  Sandra says.  "Everything is gone, his posture, his feet."  I am shocked too.  I know when he doesn't like who he is dancing with he doesn't try. But this is ridiculous.  I say to her "People told me he lost his dance."  Too many dances with women who cannot.

When the tanda ends he comes to the table to greet us.  He bends to kiss me and then Sandra.  I think I am still in a state of shock.  I get up to go to the bathroom.  It is time for lipstick.  I laugh to myself.  Sandra once asked me what I buy when I am depressed.  I tell her lipstick and nail polish.  Now I guess I put on the lipstick.

When I come out of the bathroom, Carlos motions for me to come sit down.  Roberto is not at the table. I hesitate.  Then I go.  He is all Mr. Friendly and smiles.  Completely the opposite of when we last met and he refused to greet me. "Que linda sos."  he says to me.  He asks me how I have been.  He is a regular chatty Cathy.  I want to leave.  I do not want to be seated here when Roberto returns.  He will not let go of my hand.  The bad movie continues.  Now I feel like I am in "Jaws".

Roberto sits down.  I do not look at him.  Carlos asks me what happened with Roberto.  As if he doesn't know.  No Academy Award for this performance.  "You were together," and then nothing.  I wonder if he wants a list..comehombre...the stupid Mormon girl from Utah who slept with a different guy every night and then set her sites on him, the other jealous ballerinas, and his miserable machista behavior to me when I could not dance.  I say nothing.

"Will you dance with him?"  he asks me.  What can I say?  I have longed to dance with him again.  To see if that magic we had was real.  Did we really have that connection?  Were we really that good together?  Was it all something I made up in my head?  Comparing every dancer to him.  Torturing myself.

Carlos turns to Roberto "You need to dance with her."  Roberto looks at me.  "Yes, yes, I'll dance with him."  This made it easier for him.  "But not this.  Not milonga.  He says I do not know how to dance milonga."  I say.  "Roberto laughs "Muy bien."  Then I add "But that's not true.  I do know how to dance milonga.  I dance with El Boracho on Fridays."  Carlos reaffirms "You will dance a tango or a vals with him?"  "Yes, a tango or a vals."  I agree.  Carlos turns to Roberto, "She will dance a tango or a vals with you."  I smile, "Only if I like the music."  Roberto laughs.

They play Troilo. Roberto looks at me.  Everyone pushes us to go dance.  I am nervous.  We walk onto the floor.  I face him.  I look into his eyes.  Better to close mine.  And then I am there. I am floating. All the passion, all the feeling. It was not a dream.  Roberto squeezes my hand. "Que lindo" he murmurs.  The song ends.  I feel a tear coming to my eye. 

We finish the tanda.  There is not much to say.  It would be awkward.   He guides me back to his table. Carlos starts again "How beautiful they  dance?"  he asks the table.  Everyone agrees.  Now every tanda they push us to dance.  We dance maybe 6 tandas. We dance by Patricio and Adriana.  Patricio calls out "Que linda pareja." 

I pass by Sandra.  She has been dancing with Harry Potter.  She has a big smile on her face.  "I want all the details tomorrow" she demands.  What details?  My life in a bad movie where I am the star?  She tells me how amazing the change in Roberto's dancing is with me.

They play a vals.  Roberto looks at me. I move to the the floor with him. We hardly talk.  I do not know what to say.  He asks about Roxie.  I tell him she has cancer.  He looks sad.  He tells me he is traveling. "When I come back," he says.  "I will call you. We should talk."

I cannot stop dancing with him.  He is like the pair of shoes that are so comfortable you cannot give them up.  My body responds to his steps.  He takes me through the ones he used to browbeat me over "Tu no puedes bailar" he would yell at me. "Necesitas muchas lecciones."  And now..with all the rehab I have had, my body responds the way it should.

I have waited almost 2 years for this moment, and now it is here. Morí para este baile.  (I died for this dance) Almost.