Regresa el baile

I started to dance again in October.  It was a disaster.  All the hard work I had done to have my own axis, my own balance, was destroyed in 30 seconds.  I no longer had cintura - the ability to disassociate my waist from my upper body.  Those long sweeping barridas were a thing of the past.  I couldn't move.  My former partner never failed to remind me, that I was no longer dancing like before.

I worked hard in pilates.  I worked hard in rehab.  Fernando came once a week to dance with me when my former partner abandoned me.  I felt like I would never dance again.  There were times I wanted to give up.  I figured the days where I flew through my dance were over.  Sabrina kept telling me over and over that I was going to dance better than before.  I just could not believe it.  How could I when I could barely move?

Then one day the pain was almost gone.  Maybe it was just at a point where I could now just ignore it. I could even wear  heels again.  I could walk, do ochos.  But inside was not the same.  I could not feel any passion. It wasn't that my own passion wasn't there, there just seemed to be no one who could return it.   I felt like it was no longer my dance.  The milongas.  I would go, I would dance, I would complain.  Things were different now.  It had been a long time since I had to go to the milonga and wait to be invited to dance.

Men who danced with me right after I returned to dance were as compassionate as my former partner.  I couldn't dance like before, so what was the point?  Nice guys, hope they break their hip one day.  Let's see how good they dance afterwards.

I have been spending more time with the milongueros.  Returning to my roots as they say.  I learned to dance from them 7 years ago.  Some men have returned to dance with me.  No matter how good they were, something was missing. I know that I have been grieving for my dance and in many ways my former partner, because he was my dance.

Last night I went to dance at the milonga of my friend Luis.  It is a new milonga on Fridays.  I prefer the barrio milongas.  I prefer to dance with the milongueros not the pseudo-show dancers.  I met Luis 6 years ago when I was dancing in Lo de Celia.  He had the milonga on Wednesdays.  He is a friend of Mimi's.  I knew this milonga would attract the people from the barrio, and most important the men who know how to enjoy their dance.

I have an adorable honeymoon couple from Oakland staying with me.  Chris and Tania are delightful.  My friends find it amazing that a honeymoon couple have decided to stay with me. Besides being great people, they brought me 2lbs of Peets coffee.  They are like wide eyed children each time we enter the milongas.

Without any coaching or comments from me they decide they too like the barrio milongas.  The only thing Chris doesn't like is that they make him sit separate from me and Tania.  Tonight I tell him we can sit together - in Siberia.  They will leave early to go to Ideal to hear Color Tango. 

They are so cute.  They get all dressed up.  It is their big night out in Buenos AIres.  I was going to hop on the subte but with their dress no way, not to walk in that barrio.  It would be an advertisement to rob them.  We take a taxi to get there.

When we arrive at the milonga Luis throws his arms around me.  He is happy to see me.  As we progress to a table at the far end of the floor, friends call out greetings.  I stop to hug and kiss people.  I see Janis (as in Kenyon) and wave to her.  Finally we are at our table.

Chris is happy we can sit together.  I don't want to be mean, but I tell him for me the table is horrible.  He does not understand completely the cabaceo.  I tell him the men cannot come to the table to invite me.  When I point to the men I want to dance with he now understands that they are way too far to invite me.  I tell him not to worry.  I am packing them off to Ideal later to hear Color Tango and I will have plenty of time to dance.

As my friends dance by they make little comments.  Jose Luis tells me I am in another country.  I tell my friends that I am going to sit up front a little so I can dance.  I kiss more people on the way.  I make my way to where Janis is sitting.  She is with a group of women.  Most of them I know.  I am excited to see Mabel.  She is a character.  It is reported she used to hang out with Che.

I am talking with my friends when Jose Luis invites me to dance.  He is a sweet old guy.  He never stops trying.  I ask him how he is.  He laughs, "I have you in my arms and you have to ask?"  he says to me.  He asks me when we are going to get married.  I tell him for this tanda we are married, for the next...no.

I go back to sit with Chris and Tania.  There are several men seated near us who dance OK.  A portly older guy in a white dinner jacket is sitting behind us.  I saw him dance a few tandas.  He seems OK. I look at him to invite me to dance.  He has heard us speaking English and he gives me attitude, like he is too good for me.  "OK, buddy," I think to myself, "let's see where this gets your inflated big ugly self in your Perry Como jacket."

Chris and Tania do not want to dance.  They prefer to watch.  At midnight I tell them they should leave if they want to see Color Tango.  I write down the address for them.  I give them both hugs and tell them to have fun.  I collect my things and move up front.

A man comes in.  I am not sure why I notice him.  He is dark with a goatee.  There is something about the way he walks that catches my eye.  I check his shoes.  They are normal street shoes.  He seems to know these two women who are seated at a table on the side.  I am not sure where they are from.  I watch him dance with the Dorothy Hamil look-alike.  He moves, but something is not there. I turn my attention to other men.

I am happy to be in this milonga.  The majority of the men dance well here.  The music is excellent. I am with friends.  Osvaldo and Coca come in.  What a surprise.  They sit behind me.  I greet them, they are such sweethearts.  This milonga is drawing the milongueros for sure.  Much nicer than the overcrowded floor at Gricel where I cannot dance until almost 4:00 am.

Carlos invites me to dance.  I am shocked.  I always figured him for not dancing with me because I am foreign.  He is a very smooth dancer and he always appeared to dance well to the music.  It is a pleasure to dance with him.  I tell him so.  He beams as he walks me back to the table.

They play Salgan.  Who will dance with me?  I look to see the man sitting at the Dorothy Hamil lookalike table inviting me.  I remark to Janis, "I hope this is not a mistake."  I meet him on the floor. We smile.  "Buenas noches" I say to him.  He smiles again and takes me in his embrace.  He is the perfect height for me.  I melt into his arms.  It has been a long time since I felt this way.

Off we go.  The passion that he exudes is wonderful.  His giros are perfect.  I close my eyes and take off.  I can do all my old footwork.  I can turn like before.  I do my giro that made my former partner fall in love with me.  After the accident I thought I would never be able to turn like this again.  More exciting is that I have no pain.  Thank God for Ibuprofen and Klosidol.  A little champagne never hurts.

The first song ends.  We are facing each other.  "Sos extrañjera?"  he asks me.  (You are a foreigner) I nod my head.  I can't think of a word to say.  I know this is hard to believe, but it is true. All I can do is to look at him. The next song starts. As he turns me I wonder if I dare to add a wide circular adornment..my body responds to do so.

I realize through the last two songs I am no longer here.  I am on another level somewhere else. I am soaring.  I realize for the first time since the accident that I can still dance, and better than before. Each turn, each movement of my foot.  I am able to transmit the music to this wonderful man and receive it back from him.

Somewhere in the middle of the third song my bitchy side wishes my former partner were here to see me dance like this.  When this song ends I ask this man what his name is.  I am so blown away by his dancing - our dancing I do not hear him.  I tell him I have never seen him before.  He tells me that he has seen me.  I ask him where.  He just smiles.  I ask him where he goes to dance.  He does not respond.  The last song starts.

I have not enjoyed a dance since the accident like I have with this man.  I am sad when the tanda ends.  He walks me back to my table.  Coca taps me on the shoulder.  She and Osvaldo are so happy to see me dance again.  They knew my dance before.  When they saw me in my wheelchair Coca was distraught.  I think she was the one person who really felt my pain.

I continue to dance, but the mysterious man in the goatee does not invite me again.  He dances with Dorothy Hamil and her tablemate Gidget goes to the milonga.   He doesn't even look at me.  Perry Como on the other hand has come forward to try and catch my attention.  I blow him off. Oh well, that is the milonga.

People come to me to tell me how happy they were to see me dance.  I am surprised.  I never dance for other people.  I only dance for myself and for the music.  For me the passion is when I can share it with my partner.  These are people who saw me at the lowest point of my life - in a wheel chair, and later on crutches.  You can say what you want about the people in the milongas, but there is feeling here.

My table of women all dance until the close of the milonga at 2:00 am.  Some talk about going on to Gricel.  I have to teach English on Saturday morning and then tango classes with Fernando.  I must go home.  As we wait for taxis, one woman says to me "Che, tu baile con el morocho estuvo impresionante.  Donde aprendiste a bailar?"  (Your dance with the dark haired guy was amazing. Where did you learn to dance?)  I am never sure how to answer this, so I tell her I danced with someone who was a professional before my accident.

Laura and Mabel snap to attention.  "Your accident?" the respond in unison.  I explain the accident and I mention my former partner.  Laura has known me for years.  She said that one would never know from my dancing that this happened to me.  She teased me about when she first saw my dancing in the milonga she used to have 6 years ago.  That was when I thought I could dance.  All my horrible show moves.  It embarrasses me to think about them now.  Mabel assures me that it is my former partner's loss.  I cannot talk about it.

One of the women tells me "La pasion  este morocho y vos habian...quemado el piso" (The passion you and the dark hair guy had burned up the floor.)  I told her I agreed and that since the accident I was afraid that I could no longer dance.

We get in the taxi.  I think about my dance with this nameless man I may never see again.  Where ever he is...whoever he is.  I am so grateful to him for giving me my dance.

Comments

[Gray Miller]

This was a beautiful post. It made me want to cry. I only know a little tango, my wife and I learned it together, and it was the first thing we did when we got married--before even "kiss the bride", we danced a tango.

Now we're divorcing, and it's very hard to remember that there may come a time when I can dance like that again. Thank you for reminding me. As a newcomer to your blog, I look forward to reading more.

[David Miller]

Thanks for the word "cintura". I hadn't heard that before but my body has taught me the feeling lately.
However, you had me chasing around trying to find the band leader Tunturri that you mentioned in an earlier post. Then I stumbled across Tanturi and went ah-ha.
I'm enjoying your blog.
David