Una Gota Para El Tango (A tear for the tango)

Roberto is finishing the private lesson with Bob and Jenny.   I cannot do much more than translate the lesson, as I am still unable to dance.  I can barely walk and dancing is not even a glimmer in my imagination at this point.  I am dying to dance. I watch the lesson.  I miss my tango. It is killing me to sit with a bag of frozen peas on my knee and another on my hip. 

When the lesson is finished, we decide to have empanadas before going to the milonga.  Tonight is my friend and student Paola's milonga..la milonga gayola at Nino Bien.  It is also the birthday of Patricio whose milonga is at Gricel.  If I was not a wreck, we would probably go to both.  Paola has Los Reyes of Tango playing at hers.  This is a better choice.  Bob and Jenny have never seen a live tango orchestra and to me these guys are the best along with Sexteto Mayor.

I order the empanadas and prepare a salad.  Roberto keeps bugging me to sit down.  I get the tall stool from the corner and sit while I make the salad.  My guests are still surprised at all the things you can have delivered to your home for no charge.  I tell them "This is Argentina..nothing is impossible."

The empanadas arrive.  This is the first time Bob and Jenny have had them.  They love them. Roberto is always amused to watch my American friends eat.  They pick up chicken with their hands, but they cut the empanadas with a knife and fork.  I think the most crazy thing for him and my other Argentine friends was when I invited many people for dinner.  It was "buffet" style.

We are used to grabbing a plate, filling it, and sitting down where ever there is a space to eat. Balancing a full plate on your lap is normal for us.  To an Argentine it was wierd.  The concept of not sitting around a table to your enjoy your food was just plain wierd.

We finish dinner and get ready for the milonga.  I call Jose, my friend who is a remise.  Roberto sits in front and chats with Jose.  I talk with Bob and Jenny.  They are excited to go to yet another milonga. 

When we get to Nino Bien, I completely forget that I must walk up a huge flight of stairs. This I cannot do. Just the 3 to enter the door are very painful. There is an elevator to the side I never knew existed.  Roberto takes us over to it.  Without this, I could not come to this milonga.

We enter the milonga.  It is full. Los Reyes de Tango are playing.  They are spectacular. Bob and Jenny are wide eyed as they look around. Bob is also a musician.  He is absorbing the music.  It is so much fun to watch their response.

I am happy for Paola.  She and Jony work hard to make this milonga a success.   Jony greets us.  He is very busy, he says he will be back for a table. Roberto is not one to stand around, people come to greet him, greet us.  I cannot stand much longer.  I see Paola and limp over to her as fast as I am able.

She is thrilled to see me.  She throws her arms around me.  She comes to meet Bob and Jenny and to give Roberto a bad time.  She cannot believe I was able to get him to come to her milonga, as usually he is with Patricio.  He starts to make excuses and she playfully smacks him and tells him to shut up.  "I don't want to hear your lies." she tells him.

She tells me she had to give my regular table up as we are a little late.  She takes us to the other side to a front table.  This is actually better as we are in front of the orchestra and can watch them.People come to the table to greet us.  They want to know where we have been.  Roberto tells them about the accident.  Of course he always starts to make his injuries seem like he has risen from the dead, until he realizes I am sitting right there...barely able to walk.  No way am I going to let him get 100% of the sympathy.

Jenny and Bob get up to dance.  Roberto leaves to go get a bottle of champagne.  People come to the table to greet me.  "Nena, where have you been" Mario asks me.  I tell him about the accident. He gives me a big hug and kiss.  "You will be dancing soon."  he assures me. 

Jorge, el Turco my previous partner, comes to greet me.  I cannot get up.  He asks how I am, and I tell him.  He asks how Roberto's car is...go figure.  He tells me he feels bad for us.  Probably more so for the car.

Roberto returns with the champagne.  The night continues with great music - live and with the DJ. A couple does an exhibition.  They suck. Until this moment I have been OK.  Now I am very sad. I watch the woman imitate to the last foot reflex Alejandra Arruje.  I turn to Roberto and ask if she is a student of Alejandra's.  He says yes.

The man is an idiot.  He wears this shiny wierd suit.  Looks like it came from Louis the Hatter in Detroit. (meow...) He was very rude to me a couple of years ago at Gricel.  He never forgot my walking off the floor.  He was one to question Roberto why he would ever want to dance with an American - especially me.  (Roberto tells me when he is asked this he always responds - because she can.)

That tub of lard in his shiny suit is not even dancing to the music.  He is heavy on his feet.  I tell Bob and Jenny they are horrible.  Roberto says nothing.  No one claps for them during their dance for well executed steps, no one screams "OTRO" after they finish. Paola must ask the audience to ask for another dance.  No one does, but they dance another anyway.

When they finish Roberto mumbles something under his breath about her trying to be Alejandra. He takes my hand "When do you think you can dance again?" I look away.  "I don't know. Some days I feel like it will be never."  He realizes this was probably not the best question to ask me. "Patience," he tells me, "you need to have patience.  You will dance again."    I don't feel that way.  The pain in my knee is unbearable right now. 

At 2:30 we leave.  Bob and Jenny go straight to bed.  They are not the nightowls that Roberto and I are.  We sit in the living room sipping mate and talk.  I ask him now what he thought about the exhibition.  He thought it was terrible. 

I tell him that I know he wants me to take lessons from a couple of different women.  I tell him, I have no problem with this, but I never want to have my dance be like someone elses.  I am defiant about this.  "No," he tells me.  "I do not want you to change your dance.  You need to fix some problems you have.  Your dance is beautiful.  This I would never want you to change."

A tear rolls down my cheek...I miss my tango.  Roberto moves closer and pulls me to him.  "No precupes, vas a bailar, vas a bailar."