The Milonga Chronicles: Night of the chamuyos

Tonight is Kathy and Peter's last night.  Tomorrow they leave to go home to Vancouver.  "OK you guys," I tell them. "You have to stay up all night."  They both laugh.  Peter says "No problem, I want to sleep on the plane." "Two or three milongas tonight?"  I ask them.  They look a little worried. Peter volunteers "Two I think is enough."  "OK then, after we go for cafe con leche and medialunas."  We have a plan, although I will be amazed if they make it to 3:00 am. 

These guys are so much fun,great people.  I will truly be sorry to see them go.  I adore them.  When they first came here they told me they go to bed at 10:00 am and get up at 8:00.  That lasted 1 day living with me.  By the end of their trip they were sleeping until noon.

Tonight we are celebrating while we get ready.  Peter bought champagne and I bought good miga sandwiches as opposed to bad ones.  A new bakery opened up and a couple of weeks ago I bought migas there.  They were bad.  How do you make a miga sandwich bad?  Well they managed to do it.  Tonight I bought them from a bakery that has good ones, and they are big too.  Now they see why the other ones were so bad.

I want to wear my new shoes from Leo.  We all have new shoes from Leo.  Peter is thrilled with his shoes.  For the first time he has shoes that fit and are comfortable.  I am not sure what I am going to wear.  Nothing in my closet really fits me well.  I always feel like I am arguing with my clothes. They just don't want to behave.  They bag in all the wrong places.  I have tried shopping for new things but prices are so high and I don't like anything lately.

Finally we are ready to leave.  I tease Peter and Kathy about staying up late.  They insist they are going to do it.  First we are going to Leonesa, to the milonga of Luis and Lucy.  Then we will go to Lo de Celia.  At Celia's we will meet up with Sandra, Ana, Pia, and Marta.  We are changing our milongas again.  They are tired of Luis.  I like them both.  I don't go to Gricel much on Fridays.  I miss Gricel, but the crowd has changed.

There is something about climbing the staircase to the milonga in Central de Leonesa that gives me a thrill each time.  I don't know what it is.  The sounds of a milonga are wafting through the air.  I have been climbing these stairs for 9 years and I still get that little thrill of anticipation.  The hallway is packed.  Not usual at this hour.  Lucy throws her arms around me "Porteña!" She cries out to me.  "Felicitos!" "Gracias amor." I say to her as I hug her back. 

Once inside the milonga she leads Kathy and me to my table. We have one seat saved for Gina.  I met Gina in the bathroom at El Beso.  She is going to come stay with me starting on Sunday.  She was complaining about her apartment not having heat and being noisy.  By the end of our conversation she wanted to come see my rooms. 

I look around the milonga. It is packed.  I see Chiche.  He has not been here for ages.  "Me estrañaste?" I ask him. (Did you miss me) "Por supuesto!"  He gives me a big hug.  I go to greet my friends.  I see Peter is at a table alone.  I asked Juan Carlos if he can sit with him.  Juan Carlos says no problem. They can geek out together.

I dance a few tandas.  It is very crowded.  Almost impossible to dance well.  Kathy is also dancing.  She finally has the cabaceo down.  In comes Gina.  She sits with us.  She shows me her new shoes.  She asks me if I have been dancing a lot.  I tell her not really. She is surprised.  I explain to her that it is not that important to me to dance all the time. I prefer to enjoy the music, my friends, and to dance when there is someone I want to dance with. "It must be nice to be so choosey." she says to me.

I laugh, "Maybe, maybe not."  I say to her.  It is different here.  In the US the focus is on the number of dances you have and then to analyze them.  Here it is a social event for us.  I want to dance, but it is not the only reason why I come to the milonga. I come to see my friends too. The dancing is important but not in the same way."

Gina makes me laugh.  She reminds me of many of my friends in California. She has great taste.  she is horrified by some of the outfits. "Don't these women have mirrors?" she asks me.  Before I can answer she adds "They probably don't care."  I agree with her.  It is not unusual to see a woman from behind with long blond hair to her waist wearing a short dress.  You might think she is 20 or so and then she turns around and horror of horrors she is probably 70 with way too much makeup on.  Or a size 14 squeezed into a size 8 dress complete with sequins. It's not like women in other countries don't dress badly, it is just here in the milonga you see so many bizarre outfits.

I look around to see who I can dance with. Oscar a sweet old man is at my chair. "Come nena."  He says to me. Lately he has been asking me to dance quite a bit. "How come you don't come to El Arranque on Mondays?"  he demands.  "Because I come here."  I say to him.  He asks me all the milongas I go to.  I tell him I can't go to dance every day.  It costs too much.  "I have to."  He says to me. "I don't want to be alone. I would just be alone in my apartment and I cannot be there alone."  I know this is true for many of the older people in the milongas. "Besides," he says to me "I can have a beautiful woman in my arms whenever i want."  

I see a friend of Amanda's come in.  She loves to dance with him.  I had a run in with him 6 years ago. Un baboso.  My friends had to peel him off of me.  He preys on foreigners.  The woman at the next table points out to me that he wants to dance with me.  I tell her I really am not interested.  I tell Gina to look at him.  He has me in his sites.  When I am dancing with another friend he comes over to the table of men across from mine.  He is talking to Chiche.  When I come back to my seat, Chiche winks at me.

At the next tanda I accept a dance with him.  He starts right in "Que hermosa rubia sos."  I tell him thanks.  He does not shut up for a second.  He asks me where I am from.  I tell him I live here.  "No where are you from?" he demands.  Before I can answer he reels off a list of countries, Inglesa, Dinamarca, Suiza, ..."  When he stops to take a breath I tell him, "Soy norteamericana de California." "Me encanta a vivir en Los Angeles." he tells me. "Que bueno," I say to him, "Soy de San Francisco."  "I want to live there too." he says, then without missing a beat "With a beautiful blond like you."  Jeesh, this guy is terrible.  Someone ought to tell him how to pick up women.

By this time we are only finishing the first of the four songs of the tanda.  I cannot believe I am going to have to listen to this for 3 more songs.  His lines get worse and worse.  Finally he asks me if I am married.  I tell him I have a boyfriend.  He tells me it isn't important. "You and I can dance forever."  He tells me.  I have stopped answering him.  He has his script and that is that. Thank God the tanda is over.

When I get back to the table Gina decides she is too hungry to stay in the milonga.  She wants to go to dinner.  I tell her I will see her on Sunday.  Peter moves to our table.  We decide it is time to walk down to Celia's.  They still have energy.

We maneuver the broken sidewalks in our heels.  I tell Peter he is lucky.  They are not used to walking outside in their dance shoes.  This is not such a great barrio.  I don't mind walking it by myself, but with them, we really stick out.  I ask them not to speak because there are small groups of guys hanging out.

We get to Celia's.  In my heels I bounce up the stairs.  This is another place I always anticipate even though it has changed. I have so many memories of this place and of people. Although maybe the best dancers do not always come here anymore, the best DJ is still Dany Borelli.  I kiss Mario at the door. I enter and Dario starts to lecture me about being late.  I ask him if Sandra is here.  He says yes, but he put her in the back at another table. I don't dare ask El Rey de la Puerta why.  I can only guess.

Dario grabs my hand and leads us to the table in the center.  I love this table.  I can only sit here when we are mixed-men with women.  I go to find Sandra.  She is sitting with Marta.  She is furious with Dario.  He would not let her sit at the table because I was not there.  Que loco! I give Marta a big hug. "Que flaca sos!" she says to me.  I tell them how on Thursday a man told me I was getting fat. They both are shocked.  This is the same man who has been asking me if I am sick because I was getting so thin. 

I greet people I know on the way back to the table. Ana and Pia are seated across from us.  I introduce them to Kathy and Peter. I go to dance with Oscar who has come down here to dance. "Nena,nena" he says to me.  I get a full tanda of what it is like to dance with me and how he loves to dance with me.  I tease him and call him "Joven".

Kathy and Peter are dancing with each other.  We order tostadas.  I have my glass of champagne. While Kathy and Peter dance, Sandra comes over to the table.  She is still unhappy about where she is sitting.  I tell her she should move.  She doesn't want to.  She asks me if the woman dancing with Emilio is his girlfriend. I look over "No!"  I say to her, "La mujer con el queda linda, ese es como una cartonera."  Sandra laughs.  We are both a little shocked to see him with something that looks like that.

We watch the floor.  Always checking out the dancers and floor. I see a man I have never seen before dancing.  He is very smooth. I keep my eye on him. Sandra goes back to her table. Kathy and Peter come to sit down. We are watching the dancers.  They notice the same man.  They ask if I know him. I do not.  I look at his embrace, it is perfect.  His feet are perfect.  Who is he?  He has a familiar look, but I know I don't know him.

I decide to go to the bathroom.  I look at the bar.  I remember all the years Pocho and his friend Tito sat there.  I have't seen Tito for years.  Every once in awhile Pocho makes it to a milonga.  It is not easy for him anymore.  Next to the door of the women's bathroom are a line of men.

When I come out I say hello to one of the men who works at Celia and to Emilio.  Emilio calls me Twiggy.  Then he starts on me.  I make him mad "WHAT?"  I say to him.  He answers "Que WHAT?" The man next to him says to me "How do you do?  Very nice to meet you." "Ha!"  I say to Emilio "Un maestro para vos."  As I walk away, the man whose dancing I admired is sitting on the first stool. "Quiero bailar a proximo tango con vos. I smile at him "OK, un tango."

I go back to the table and wait. The next tanda starts. He doesn't bother to invite me.  He comes to the table for me.  I go into his embrace. If I thought he looked like a good dancer now I know he is. Smooth. Perfect balance. Between songs he says to me "Es un placer a bailar con vos."  "Vos tambien" I say to him. I comment to him "Sos nuevo a la milonga."  He doesn't say anything at first. He tells me he goes to dance.  He names milongas I don't usually go to. "Where do you go to dance?" he asks me. I smile and name a few places. "I am going to implant a chip in you. Then I will know where you are dancing."  I laugh.

When the tanda ends he tells me he wants to dance with me again.  I smile and walk away.  I go to dance with another friend. Anti-climatic after that guy.  I go back to the table.  Kathy and Peter look a little tired. "How are you guys doing?"  I ask.  "OK, OK."  They say. I look up.  My "new" friend wants to dance with me again.

I float into his embrace. It is so easy to dance with him.  "Donde aprendiste a bailar?"  I ask him.  "Aqui, aca, en la pista."  He tells me.  "No lo creo."  I say to him.  I do not believe it. His dancing is too polished. "Where did you learn to dance?"  he asks me.  "Here,"  I tell him.  "On the floor with the milongueros."  "No lo creo."  he says to me.  The game begins.

I do the unthinkable.  I dance the next tanda with him. "Are you married?"  He asks.  "No."  I tell him. "I cannot believe it.  You are so beautiful, sweet, and a wonderful dancer.  I want to dance with you the rest of my life."  "Chamuyero."  I say to him.  He laughs. "I am going to implant a chip in you." he says to me again.

He asks me where I live.  I tell him "Palermo."  "Te llevo. Vivo en Belgrano. Tengo taxi." "Gracias."  I say, but I am thinking noooo way.  I tell him I have all these people with me.  "Don't worry, I can take you all."  We finish the tanda and I go back to my table.  Kathy asks me if I know him.  I tell her no.  I tell them he told me he learned to dance on the floor.  Peter laughs. "No way."  I agree.

I go sit with Sandra so he won't come for me again.  "Conoces este chico?" I ask her.  "Tiene cara conocida." She says.  I tell her how he says he never took lessons, that he said he learned on the floor. She laughs.  I tell her how he is pushing to drive me home.  I don't want him to know where I live. We hatch a plan.  I give her a hug.

I go back to the table.  Kathy and Peter look tired.  It is only 2:30.  "You guys are tired."  I say to them. They look sheepish. "OK, we will go in a bit.  I have to escape from this guy." They smile.  They are playing a tanda of vals.  My friend looks at me and I nod. 

"Who taught you to turn that way?"  He asks.  "Some guy."  I tell him.  "I can't believe you are alone."  "Believe it"  I tell him.  "You don't know me."  "I want to."  He says. "I want to see you again, where are you going to dance."  I am not too sure about this.  I like no attachments in the milonga.  "Niño Bien, El Beso, Gricel." "Let me take you home."  he asks.  "All of you."  "No, gracias. On Thursdays I go to Gricel."  I say to him.

I go back to the table.  Kathy and Peter are falling asleep.  "Come on kids."  I say to them. They have made it to 3:00 am.  As we walk out the door, my friend touches my arm "Gricel on Thursday."  I smile at him and go through the curtains.

Comments

[Mario]

Dear Debby,
I cannot go eight whole days without reading a new post by you. Please, crank up that typewriter and get the stream of consciousness flowing again! I'm a Debby Junkie..

[Chi]

Ooh, drama!

[Andi]

Oh dios mio, I cannot wait until Friday now, so that I can find out what happens on Thursday. What a juicy story!!! Are you hoping that you run into him again?

[Katie]

Oh, I'm dying to know where things go from here. ;)

[Elbnymphe]

Articles like this are why I love reading your blog. You really evoke such a vivid picture of life in Argentina! Next time I invite my friends to watch a Tango flick together, I will prepare miga sandwiches! :-)
But I was amazed to hear that people walk on the street in their dancing heels. In Germany (where there is a rule for everything, and then some) this would be considered a faux-pas. Salon owners are very protective of their dance-floors, and Tangueras are very protective of their shoes which cost a fortune if they are imported from Argentina.