TangoSpam:La Vida Con Deby

Shoes, Shoes, Shoes....

Yuko shows me her shoes.  They are missing a heel.  They are the only shoes she has brought to Buenos Aires for tango.  "I can get them fixed in 20 minutes."  she says to me.  I laugh, "Nothing takes 20 minutes in Buenos Aires."  Except maybe something that should take 10 seconds, and then you might have to wait and see.

In the U.S. you can have heels while you wait.  Here you wait to have heels.  You can walk into a zapatero, completely empty and he is just sitting there.  Heels will still take a week.  Patience.  We go to the zapatero down the block.  He is working on a pair of shoes.  He grunts to us when we walk in.  He shuffles to the counter.  "Buenas tarde"  I say to him.  I show him Yuko's shoes.  "Entiendes castillano?"  He asks me. How many times have I been to this zapatero?  He looks at her shoes and gives us a price. "Hay una urgencia?" he asks.  I tell him yes.  "Bien, sabado en la mañana."  Today is Thursday.  "Bienvenidos a Buenos Aires"  I say to Yuko.

Now we must find her shoes.  She wants to take a class tonight with Daniel Lapadula and stay in Niño Bien.  First we go on the subte to see Leo.   Yesterday we went to Dar Cos but they had nothing.  Not only that, they have raised their prices to the sky.  No way I am going to pay those prices for shoes that have plastic heels. 

When we get to Constitucion I let her know we are in one of the more "colorful" barrios.  IE; not so safe. We walk to Leo's only to find that she is not open.  Yuko is sad.  I have told her so much about Leo, she was looking forward to meeting her and having shoes made.  We will have to come back. 

Since we are so close we walk to Delie.  It has been ages since I have been to Delie.  I hope they don't remember me.  I feel bad not coming here at least to say hello.  The store has been completely remodeled. It looks beautiful.  The same woman - the sister - is still working there.  She is on the phone and leaves us standing outside.  I explain to Yuko that an Argentine would consider it rude to break the telephone conversation to come to the door.

Finally She opens the door.  I explain to her what Yuko is looking for.  Basically we are in self-help mode.  We are supposed to look around the store and then ask for a size.  The shoes are beautiful.  All leather. No cardboard fillers like most of the shoes produced for tourists.  Yuko tries a few pairs.  Her feet are so slender, her arches high, and worse her two feet are two different sizes.  Nothing fits.

I tell Yuko not to worry, we will find something.  We get back on the subte and head to Corrientes. There are many tango shoe stores in Abasto.  Most do not have decent quality.  They are not 100% leather and they use that crappy plastic heel, and they charge a FORTUNE for them. I get tired of explaining to women that just because a shoe is pretty and sexy it does not make it a tango shoe.  Almost every woman who stays with me complains about her feet. Even Sandra complains about her feet.

We go to check out Madreselva.  They are in the Abasto Hotel.  It takes us awhile to figure out they are in the foyer on the first floor.  They do not open until 3:00.  The showcase with shoes has several pretty pair.  We do not want to wait.

"Let's go to Susanna's"  I say to her.  I have not been there in ages.  We walk in.  No one is there but the young man who has always worked there.  I tell him about Yuko's feet.  He makes several recommendations.  He pulls out boxes and asks her to try some shoes on.  Meanwhile I decide to look around.  Most of Susanna's shoes are all leather with the classic heel.  She has one small row of the plastic heel-kill-your-feet shoes.

When I go to the back of the store I see a pair of beautiful black sandals to die for. Then I look at the heel.  I can't wear this heel!  It is higher than what I wore before the accident.  I had to have Leo cut down all my shoes.  Well, it can't hurt to try them.  I ask if they have my size.  The young man pulls out a pair of 37s.  I go to try them on.  They feel like they are made for me.

This is important.  I always tell the women that if the shoe is not wonderfully comfortable to begin with, then don't buy it.  It is not going to become comfortable over night or while you are dancing.  I never complain about my feet.  Because my shoes fit.  I only buy 100% leather, and no crappy plastic heels.  (They are not stable and I don't care where you buy them)

I walk around the store.  The young man tells me to take my time.  Yuko in the meantime seems to also be having luck with a pretty pair of burgundy color shoes.  When I walk to the back of the store I see a pair of shoes that they were showing 4 years ago.  I pick them up and I say to the young man "These shoes are ancient!  I remember when you had them here 4 years ago."  He laughs in surprise. 

In two seconds Susanna herself comes down from her office.  She heard me comment about the shoes. She gives me a big hug.  "You don't come back anymore?"  she questions me.  I feel bad.  I tell her that I was in a bad car accident and was not dancing for awhile.  We talk for a bit.  She is happy to see me again.  I tell her that I am amazed she still remembers me.  She laughs.  "You are a friend of Nora's.  I will always remember you."  She leaves us to go back to her office.

The young man looks at Yuko's shoes.  He sees how one of them fits.  He tells her not to worry.  He can fix it.  He takes them from her.  I tell him I love the shoes I have on, but could he please just cut the heel 1 cm.  He tells me no, the style of the heel will not let him.  I do not know what to do.  The truth is the shoes are comfortable, and I love them.  He takes Yuko's shoes upstairs.

I walk around the store.  I do ochos.  I test my balance.  Everything seems to be there.  I know that even if the shoes are OK, I will be in pain the next day.  I need to wear a lower heel.  These are 9.5 cm.  I use 8 now.  What to do...what to do.  I look in the mirror.  I should not.  They look spectacular.

The young man brings Yuko's shoes back down. She tries them on.  She gets a big smile on her pretty face.  "They feel good."  she says.  "OK"  I ask him, "How much?"  I am ready for an absurd price like the other stores. Maybe my shoes will be too expensive.  Then I can say no to these absurd heels. When he tells me 240 pesos, we are both thrilled.  I still cannot believe I am buying shoes with a heel this high.  Even if I sit, I will sit with pretty sexy feet.

I pay for my shoes.  Yuko goes to an ATM to get some cash to pay for hers.  I talk to the staff in the store.  They remembered me once Susanna came down.  It is in these moments I know why I live here. We have a very nice conversation.  Yuko comes back and pays for her shoes.

I thank everyone and kiss them good bye.  Yuko and I head out the door.  She is so happy to have shoes and to be able to dance tonight.  Shoes, shoes, shoes....a woman can never have too many pair of shoes.

The Milonga Chronicles:Sit Pretty

I rarely ever go to two milongas anymore.  The milongas are too expensive for me to do that now.  I remember the days I would go to 2 - 3 milongas.  Now only one, and definitely not every day. 

I have two guests staying me.  I ask them "Where do you guys want to go dance tonight?"  I give them the options; El Beso, Gricel, or Niño Bien.  One wants to go to El Beso and maybe Niño Bien.  The other wants to go to Niño Bien.  It is her first day here.  She is new to tango.  I recommend she take the class with Daniel Lapadula.  He speaks English and is good with beginners.

I think to myself 14 pesos to enter El Beso, 15 pesos to enter Niño Bien.  Something to drink in both places. I don't want to think about the taxi.  I am hoping my guests will be generous and pay for the taxi.  I call Daniel to let him know I am sending him a student.  He is happy to hear from me.  I have known him for maybe 9 - 10 years.  He asks me if I am going to come tonight.  I tell him yes.  He says that he will arrange for me to be "invitada" and to tell them at the door I am  his guest.  I am thrilled.  I thank him for being generous.

I arrange for Jose to pick Yuko up and take her to Niño Bien.  I will be gone by the time she needs to leave for Niño Bien.  I can trust Jose to get her there and to charge her properly.  Not only that he will give her a running commentary and history lesson on the way.  Fortunately she understands enough Spanish to be able to enjoy it.

Then my other guest informs me she is too tired to go to out.  She is going to stay in.  I think I am going to kill her.  Instead I decide to just go.  It has been a long time since I have gone to this milonga.  I take a taxi to El Beso.  Normally I take the bus but I am late.

When I enter the guard greets me.  "Twice in one week"  she says to me.  I smile as I enter.  I kiss Stella hello.  "Tanto tiempo" she remarks to me.  At the top of the stairs is Oscar.  He gives me a big hug.  I have not seen him in awhile either.  It seems nobody is dancing as much as they used to.

I am not happy about the table I am given.  I made a reservation.  Business as usual.  I finally accept a table against the mirror but not happily.  I look around the room.  Lots of familiar faces, lots of good dancers. 

I dance two nice tandas.  Both with men I know.  I see Oscar looking at me.  Within minutes I am moved to a front row table.  A much better vista.  There are men looking at me.  I am not sure I want to dance with someone who I do not know.  I am wearing new shoes.  They are much higher than all my others.  Since the accident I have had to wear a lower heel.  I am afraid a bad dancer will knock me on my butt.  How embarrassing would that be?

Two women are seated at my table.  I listen to them.  One is clearly American.  The other is  a Latina  but not from Argentina.  I say nothing.  They are older, probably my age.  It is interesting to hear their perspective on the milonga.  They are being asked to dance by all the opportunists.  They are so so dancers.  They do not realize they are being asked for reasons other than their dancing. I sit.  I know I will not dance until the floor clears.

The Latina in baggy fish nets says to me "Hablas Español?"  I tell her yes.  She then says to me that I must be new to the milonga.  The way she says it is so condescending.  I laugh at her "Are you serious? I am well known." I say to her.  "Well you are not dancing and I feel sorry for you. I figure it is because you are new."  More condescending attitude.  What does she care?  She then goes on to tell me the reason she is dancing so much (I would hardly call it much) is because the men know her.  (What the hell is wrong with these women?  Why does everything have to be a competition?)

I ask her if she is from Buenos Aires or is she on vacation.  She acknowledges that she is on vacation.  I tell her that is why she is dancing.  Of course she does not agree.  She is still insisting I do not know anyone.  I tell her, "Look in the milonga we have codes."  Before I can finish my sentence she interrupts me "I know the codes, I have been here 13 times."  Funny I have never seen her here before. 

I continue "The men dance only 2 tandas with a woman. They prefer to wait to dance with their favorite dancers until the floor is clear and they can enjoy it."  "I know, I know." She says to me.  I continue "And there are two type who do not dance that much - those that can and those that cannot."  She clearly believes I am in the last group, with her baggy fishnets, scuffed shoes and all.  (I suppose I could add and her June Cleaver hair, but then that would be really ...meow...)

Now I am pissed.  I get up and walk across the room to wear Alito and Osvaldo are seated.  "Hola Hermosa" they greet me.  I kiss them both.  Osvaldo pulls up a chair for me. I sit down.  I ask Alito if he enjoyed his birthday lunch with Janis.  He beams.  I tell Osvaldo I am mad at him because he never dances with me anymore.  He laughs at me "You are always dancing. What do you need an old man like me for?"  I give him my pouty look.  The men around the table laugh.  Osvaldo takes me to dance. Baggy fishnets is watching.

I thank Osvaldo for the dance and tell him he is the dream I always remember.  He beams with pleasure. I work my way around the room - Ricardo, Cachito, Fernando, Roberto, greeting, talking, and playing with all of them.  Each in turn invites me to dance.  Funny, baggy fishnets and her friend are still sitting.

When I turn the corner to go to the bathroom a man stops me "I like your blog Deby." I stop to look at him.  It is Michael from San Francisco.  He finally made it here.  We started dancing at the same time. I tell him I will give him my card.  Next week is a holiday weekend and my birthday.  The amigas are planing.

As I go back to my table Cachito reaches out to me "Hermosa"  he takes my hand and sits me down.  "When are we going to get married?"  he asks me.  I laugh "Where do you live?"  Now he laughs.  "I have a big house outside of the city."  Then he is serious, "Why don't you have a boyfriend?"  He asks me.  I hate this question.  What am I supposed to answer?  "It is a little complicated."  I tell him.  "You don't like men?"  I cannot believe I get asked this.  I roll my eyes.... "I love men"  I tell him.  This conversation is getting a little too serious for me.  Cachito takes my hand "You have to trust."  he tells me.  I kiss him on the cheek.

I get up to go back to my table.  It is time for me to go to Niño Bien.  Baggy fishnets and her friend are still sitting.  I know I proved my juvenile point.  I smile at her as I collect my things.  "You are still sitting," I say to her.  "Que lastima."

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.

I can't hear you....I don't want to hear you...Talk to my lawyer please

I have not lived in the U.S. for almost 3 years. I was originally from California.  When I read the news from the U.S. I am constantly amazed at how people use the court systems to settle what I would consider personal differences.  From my vantage point, not only from reading the news, but looking at lists such as Tango-L,BANewcomers, BAExpats, it appears that people in the U.S. have forgotten how to interact with each other on a personal level.  It is much easier to go on the attack using whatever means one can: whether it be the Internet or a lawyer.

People no longer seem to communicate.  There appears to be this propensity to win at all costs.  I realize in American culture, there is the desire to be the best, to win at all costs.  I believe the real cost has been the loss of what Argentines constantly refer to as ser humano.  To be a human being.

In the last year or so there have been two cases involving tango teachers in the U.S. where American women have accused their tango teachers (men of course) of sexual harassment.  One man had charges brought against him by the woman for inappropriate touching in the class.

I don't know any of the people involved. I only know what I have read on the Internet of this case.  I do know many experiences of women who dance tango.  On my first trip to Buenos Aires, my "teacher"  tried to kiss me. I immediately pushed him away, took my things, and walked out.  There was no way I would have another class with an idiot like that.  It was not a question of strength or being afraid or being in a vulnerable position.  I never saw myself as a victim. The guy acted like a jerk. He did apologize.  But so what? It was never even a consideration to have another class with him. To do so, means that you accept this kind of behavior.

From what I read, this woman had 2 classes with this teacher.  Both times she alleged that the teacher touched her inappropriately.  What kind of person returns to a class where she was touched inappropriately in the first class? She had to make that appointment for the private lesson.  She had to show up. The guy touches her inappropriately so she makes another appointment for another private lesson?  If this is true, then what the hell was she thinking?  Then she goes and presses charges against him because he touched her inappropriately?  I don't get it.

Being advanced on in a tango class is not the same as your boss coming on to you, being jumped on the street, or your date getting you drunk and taking advantage. You have the power to say no and leave.  Please do not tell me I am simplifying. Please do not tell me I am blaming the victim. This is a tango class.  If the teacher  forces you to have sex against your will,(And I do mean force)  restrains you, this is rape. Inappropriate touching has a solution - you leave. You don't come back.  Do you really need to go and sue the person? Have them arrested? Is this what happens now?  Someone touches you in a way that is inappropriate, so you sue them?  You take them to court? You have them arrested?  You ruin their life?  Jeesh, this being the case, half of Buenos Aires would be in jail or never allowed back into the U.S.

When I lived in the Bay Area there was a teacher there who had "affairs" with his students.  All was well and fine, until the lovely ladies involved found out that they were not the only ones, all hell broke loose.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.  I have seen the same thing happen here in Buenos Aires.  Over and over women come here.  They attach to these piranhas in the milongas like they are Dancing Gods from heaven.  All is well and good, until they find out, that they are not the only one.  Then the Dancing God from heaven becomes a pariah to attack and punish.  He done me wrong.  Considering you had two people in a room with no witnesses, no one really knows the truth do they?

Yes, it is not only the men who perpetrate this behavior, it is the women too.  The difference being what guy is going to go" Oh I took her class, and then she tried to kiss me."  Can you imagine a man taking his female tango teacher to court because she touched him in a class?  I know men this has happened to. They either go with it, or they tell the woman, thank you but no thank you and avoid her.  We want equality as women, but selectively, and at times when it benefits us.  Where did this intense need to flagellate, punish, and expose come from?

Contributing to this situation was a woman who posted to Internet her very strong opinion about this case and this man. She felt it was her duty to expose him.  She added that she has no personal stake.  That she does not teach, so this is not being done to wipe out her competition. Unfortunately both her web site and My Space profile say the opposite.  She does indeed teach tango in the same community.

Where does this hostility come from? 

Parts of this post appeared originally on Tango-L news list

The Milonga Chronicles...Not Another

Sandra comes to get me.  I get into the taxi.  "I am so bad."  I tell her.  "El cretino me llamo".  Her eyes open wide. "Que dijo el?"  she asks me.  I start to giggle.  I answered my phone.  He said "Hola soy Felipe." Then I said in that horrible way I do like an old lady "¿QUIEN?"  Sandra starts to laugh too. I continue; "He said "Felipe"  I went "¿Quien?  ¿Quien quieres hablar? ¿Quien"  He hung up.  The two of us are cracking up.
"He probably wanted to know how my hair was, the idiot."  I say to her.  "He hasn't seen my hair for almost 6 months.  Comehombre probably told him I changed it.  Maybe I should take a picture so he can copy it."  By this time the two of are hysterical with laughter.  "He hasn't learned" she says, "no pudes preparar el mate sin yerba."

On Tuesday we have been checking out various milongas, Sandra and I.  Something to break up the routine. We have been to this milonga twice before.  The first time there was no one there, and that seems to be the situation tonight.  Before when we went there were at least 3 men to dance with.  When they left, so did we.

Tonight there is only Hector.  There are maybe 20 people here.  Good thing we did not have to pay the entrance.  The organizers are inviting Sandra and I now.  That is a good thing since the prices just keep going up.  The wait staff greets us as we walk to our table.

Hector dances with a few women.  Then he dances with only Sandra and I.  I tell him I heard he is going to the Chicago Tango Festival.  He is happy about this. Finally he gets to go to the U.S.  I tell him Ray Ray is a great guy.  Hector is happy to hear this too, he says he is staying with Ray.  "What am I supposed to do?"  I ask him.  "You are leaving me."  He laughs.  "Only for 3 weeks.  I will be back May 2."  "What am I suppose to do until then?" I demand.   "I am sure you will figure something out" he teases me.

As we dance I notice that we are being videotaped.  I am pissed.  I hate that.  I mention it to Hector.  He is not too thrilled either.  In an empty place like this, they should ask.  I tell Hector I do not like to be filmed. I told him how someone in Europe used a tape of me to teach adornos to women. 

Sandra and I sit.  And sit.  And sit.  We decide to eat instead.  I look to see who has come in the door.  It is this man I am dying to dance with.  He is with a blond who has seen too much Botox. Hay por todo.  They sit two tables behind us.

Our food comes.  We are eating and watching the dancers.  The man takes blondie to dance. His feet are beautiful.  She is clearly a student.  I watch him dance.  Every movement.  I always watch his feet. I want to dance with him.  He never looks at me.

I tell Sandra I want to dance with him. "Mira" she tells me. (Look) "Hago,  pero él nunca me invita."  I tell her. (I do but he never invites me) I am dying for those feet.  I watch them.  They are the feet of a cat.  His student goes to the bathroom.  He invites Fish Face to dance.  FISH FACE!  Of all people.  What is wrong with him?

After the tanda he sits down with his student.  I try looking at him again.  It is like looking at a blank wall.  He goes to dance with the woman he is with again.  I cannot stop looking at his feet.  "Muero para aquellos pies"  I sigh. 

We decide to leave. There is nothing going on here. We pay our bill and say our good byes.  Some good byes take longer than other.  Jose is outside waiting for us.  When we go out Dream Feet is smoking a cigarette.  Ugh.  He listens to Sandra and I talk to Jose.  Sandra is telling Jose what a disaster the milonga is.  There is no one to dance with, it is boring.   The most exciting thing was her pavita. (little sandwich)

Then Dream Feet chimes in.  He agrees it is slow.  He said he brought his student there to practice.  He wanted her to dance with other people.  Then he adds and I want to dance with others too.  I can't control myself. I look at him "¡No es verdadero!"  (That's not true) His head snaps around. "¿Como?" Sandra and Jose get that look on their face when they know I am going shock someone.

"I have been looking at you all night, and you just look the other way." I tell him.  His eyes open wide. I cannot believe I am saying this myself.  "You want to dance with me?" He asks. "Yes," I tell him. "But you never look at me."  He probably thinks I am another crazy foreign woman throwing herself at some milonga guy.

"Where do you go to dance?" he asks me.  "What days?"  I let Sandra give him the rundown.  I tell him that we cannot dance every day, we have to work.  He pulls out his wallet and gives me some free entrances to milongas.  "Meet me at any of these milongas and we will dance."  I thank him for the entradas.

"What is your name?" He asks me.  I tell him. "And yours?"  I ask him. "Roberto" he says to me. I die, on the spot.   "Dios mio, un otro Roberto." "I know who you used to dance with." He says to me. I can say nothing. I feel Sandra grabbing my arm and Jose moving towards his car. "No puedo creer, un otro Roberto."  I put the milonga entrances into my bag.

The Milonga Chronicles.....Calavera No Chilla...

look in the mirror.  Ugh.  "I do not want to go out."  I tell myself.  "I do not want to go out."  It's not working.  My body is moving itself to the shower while thinking about what to wear.  "What am I doing?" I think to myself.  "This is crazy."  I think I have been out every night this week.  Actually I think I have been out every night for the last two weeks.  I have been going on 3.5 hours a sleep a night.  I am exhausted.    I pop a couple of aspirins with caffeine into my mouth. The milonguero secret.

I hate all my clothes.  I have nothing to wear.  My closet is jammed full of clothes. I sound like my mother.  Only I am not going to be a raving maniac about it like she used to be.  It was a great way for her to get the credit card out of my father.  I have my own credit cards. I still hate all my clothes.  I wish winter would get here, so I could have different clothes to wear.  I finally decide on something.

I have guests who want to go out.  I have clients on tour.  I have Sandra.  Every night I think I am going to stay home, SURPRISE!  Someone wants to go out.  Sandra begs me to go tonight.  Capo Viejo (AKA Capo Lento) wants to try a new place.  She doesn't want to arrive alone.  Never mind she pulled out at the last minute last night and left me going early to Gricel - alone.  Faithful friend I am, I go, with another client.

We arrive at the milonga.  It is early.  I tried to tell Sandra this milonga does not start until 11.  She insists on getting there at 10:30.  There is a class.  We watch the teachers.  They are teaching a pattern. There is no talk of how to lead, where to position your feet.  The students are tripping over each other.  The teachers are known teachers, they are good teachers. Ten years ago when I took a class from them, they taught tango.  The sad thing is, they have stopped teaching.  They are doing what makes them money.  They are being personalities.

When the class ends, the milonga starts.  We watch the "students" on the floor practicing their steps. Looking at their feet and banging into each other.  Some of the couples have practiced this step over and over.  They glide by.  To the untrained eye, they look good.  Until you notice they are doing the same step over and over and over - regardless of the music, regardless of the cadencia.

Sandra is shaking her head.  "These are not foreigners, these are Argentines.  What are they doing?" she mumbles.  I tell her, "Mimi loves these people.  She says that sooner or later, when they really want to learn to dance, they find her class."  "Hooorrrreeeeblaaay" she says.  People are entering the milonga. They are mostly foreign.  Maybe all.  Large groups.  Smiles pasted on their faces.  Women dressed how they think tango dancers should dress.  Men grasping their shoe bags.

We normally do not come to the tourist milongas.  Sandra now believes me that this is not a good milonga.  The woman with us is watching the floor.  She asks me who I think is a good dancer.  Before I can answer, Sandra says "No one."  The woman asks me what I think about this guy who is in his late 20s dancing with an older woman.  Lots older.

"Him?" I say to her.  Before I continue she says "He is my teacher."  I am horrified, before I think about my words they come tumbling out, "He teaches? Him?  Are you serious?  He can't even dance!"  "Well" she says "I take lessons from him and so do lots of women."  I am shocked, this is the guy that when he comes to the milongas I normally go to we make fun of.  We all think he is the taxi dancer who cannot dance. 

"He's a taxi dancer!!"  I say to her.  "We make fun of him.  We always feel sorry for the women he is with.  We are sure they know he can't dance."  "The woman he is dancing with thinks he is the best. She says she can't dance with anyone else but him."  I laugh.  I should learn to just keep my mouth shut.  "Of course she can't.  He can't dance.  He is teaching her his patterns which no one else dances, which is why she can't dance with anyone else."  Jeesh....

We continue to sit and watch the show.  I tell Sandra this milonga is a big waste of time and money for us.  I want to leave.  She convinces me to stay just a little longer.  The parade of name brands begins to pass through with flyers of their latest overpriced seminar.  What Argentine is going to pay $80 pesos for a 2 hour class?  Another is charging $150 pesos for a "Ladies Only".  And foreigners wonder why the Argentines have so much contempt?

A guy walks by.  The woman again asks me "What do you think of him?"  I am not sure who she is referring to. "Who" I answer.  "Him" she says pointing to this skinny guy I have seen around.  "I don't understand, what about him?"  She tells me he too is a teacher.  Now I cannot say anything.  I am astounded people actually give these guys money. I am thinking maybe I should start promoting Roxie as a teacher.  At least she is entertaining,honest, and her back ochos are just as bad as these guys.

Some guy is eying me.  I have seen him around.  I cannot remember if he can dance or not.  I ask Sandra. She can't remember either.  I accept his dance.  He is delighted.  I meet him on the floor.  He thanks me for accepting the dance.  This is a bad sign.  OK, I accepted, that was my mistake, not his. Because he is a big guy, he forgets I am a small woman.  I have to really fight to even stay upright.  I will not walk off the floor.  He is so happy to dance with me.  He tells me he saw my picture in the paper.  I smile.  Thank God the tanda ends.  I thank him.

I go back to the table. "Look", I tell Sandra, "Capo Lento is here."  She turns and smiles. He comes to get her to dance.  My friend is shocked.  "HIM?"  she asks, "He is so old, and she is so beautiful."  I shrug my shoulders.  "She likes him, what can I tell you?"  I say to her.  "That is the way it is here, old guys, young women."  "But he is too old for me" she says.  I agree, for me too.  That is the way it is.  I attract the old guys too, but I prefer them younger.  Although the last disaster was 63.  I think the old ones are worse than the young ones.  It is like they are afraid the race will end before they hit the finish line.

I see some people I know across the room.  I get up to go greet them.  One an Argentine says to me "You are more Porteña, each time I see you."  They came for CITA and have decided to stay longer.    Now they want to experience the "real" tango experience.  I try to keep my mouth shut.  The real tango experience is not here in a place where 85% of the people are from the U.S. or Europe, taking classes from taxi dancers who cannot dance.

I ask myself again, "what am I doing here?"  Sandra seems happy to be with Capo Lento.  It is almost 1:00 am.  There is not 1 person here I want to dance with.  I tell Sandra I am leaving.  "Next Tuesday you come here alone.  I am going to Lola's."  She laughs.  "OK, next week we go to Lola's."

When my friend and I get outside it is raining.  There are no taxis.  She does not want to walk in the rain.  I don't care.  I have to work tomorrow.  Besides tomorrow is Patricio and Adri.  Calavera no chilla...

The Milonga Chronicles...Juan More Time...

"Please come to Juancito's with me."  Sandra begs.  I do not want to go to Juan's.  I want to wait and just go to Gricel.  "There is no one to dance with there."  I tell her.  "I just want to go to Gricel."  Sandra wants to go to Juan's new milonga.  I do not.  She wants to see if Capo Lento is there.  "If you go to Juan's with me, I will pay for the taxi to Gricel." she says.  I sigh.  I am about to say ok when she throws in "Come on, we will take the subte and we only pay half price to get in, and I will buy you a glass of champagne."  Dare I ask for a miga as well?  "OK, fine."  I say to her.  The things I do for my friends.

We meet in the subte station.  We always time it perfectly.  We walk to the station the same time.  When she boards the train she calls me to let me know about what car she is in.  When the train stops in Plaza Italia, she runs out and waves her arms.  I either run to her car or just jump into the train.  At Scalabrini if we are parted she will run to join me.  Are we crazy or what?  Two women all dressed up running around like lunatics in the subte station.

We end up a car apart until Scalabrini.  Then she runs to my car. People must think we are crazy.  Well we are.  I am telling her about my latest relationship disaster.  It really wasn't a disaster.  I dumped him before it came one.  I am starting to get good at this.  If you can't beat'em, join'em.

We get to the milonga.  As soon as we enter Juancito comes to greet us.  I think he is shocked we are here.  I look around.  There are maybe 25 people here.  Most are men, and most are not dancing.  It doesn't really matter.  I don't want to dance with any of them anyway.  "No me matas, por favor."  Sandra says to me.  (Don't kill me please) Before I can answer, she says in her best English.."shut up."  I roll my eyes.

Sandra tells me the man across from me can dance.  I am not sure whether or not to believe her.  I accept a dance with him during the 3rd song of the tanda.  He is OK.  He asks me all the usual questions, where am I from, do I like Argentina, where did I learn to dance tango, and who were my teachers.  I tell him I really never took many classes.  He tells me not to worry, that I will still learn to dance. What? I think he is trying to be nice, but it is sort of funny.  I want to laugh if anything.

Finally Sandra's friend comes.  She is happy.  He sits across from us.  He invites her to dance.  Her whole face lights up.  My friend Mecha, joins us at the table.  She is from Brasil and lives here.  We always make fun of ourselves as the permanent tourists.

I beg Sandra, can we please go.  I want to dance.  I want to go to Gricel.  Mecha wants to stay.  She says she will go on to Canning.  I will go alone if no one wants to go with me.  Sandra talks to her friend.  He says he will drive us there.

Sandra's friend is mystified why I want to live here.  "It's dirty.  Buenos Aires is filty."  he says to me.  I agree with him, it is dirty.  "The people have no respect." he continues.  Well, not too sure about that. "Did you come here for a man?"  He asks.  Oh no, how do I respond to that.  OK, pure Deby.  I tell him what I think about the men here.  He finds it humorous.  "I will find you a boyfriend."  He says to me.  "I will present you with 6 men.  I have a feeling you are pretty demanding."

We enter Gricel.  Sandra and I go to one table and our friend to another.  It is crowded.  we reject almost every table until the moza asks if we want to sit at this table. We are at the table of Juan.  For me Juan is the best dancer here on Fridays.  He is a little crazy too.  I always have to beg for a dance.  Once he stopped dancing with me and when I asked him why he told me I needed to find someone younger and more handsome than him.  "Idiot"  I said to him.  "I just want to dance with you, not marry you."

I dance with a few men I know.  Sandra too.  I notice this guy sitting against the wall starring at me.  He looks vaguely familiar.  I do not want to dance with him.  I am tired of bad dancers.  Tonight I am going to be my picky self.

Then Juan comes in.  It is almost 1:30 AM. Juan comes to his table where we are seated.  "What are all these people doing at my table?" he booms out.  Everyone ignores him.  Sandra looks at me.  I give her a "don't worry about it" look.  "This is my table" Juan declares, "and who is sitting in my seat?"  Just like Papa bear!  The older gentleman next to me tells him "Mario is sitting there."  "Get rid of Mario."  Juan insists.  He tells Rosaria the waitress to get rid of all the people at his table.

Sandra says to me we should move.  I tell her no, don't worry about it, this is just Juan.  Rosaria brings another chair to the table and puts it at the head.  Juan sits down mumbling about this being his table. Never mind it is an hour and half past the time for tables to be reserved.  I smile at Juan.  "Thank you for letting me sit at your table Juan."  I say to him.  "I am so proud to sit with you."  He stares at me and then begins to laugh.  Rosaria brings his bottle of wine.

Juan invites me to dance.  My pleasure.  He never invited me to dance before.  Then the older gentleman at the table insisted he dance with me.  That was one tanda from heaven.  Juan dances.  Juan dances well and with passion.  And, he makes me beg.  Some nights I can stare at him all night long and he ignores me. He stopped dancing with me for a month, told me to go find someone younger and more handsome.  Milonga games.

After the tanda he sits me down.  The Viejo next to me asks me if I enjoyed my dance.  "Claro que si!" I say to him.  I notice the guy against the wall is still looking at me.  Instead I choose to dance with the Viejo next to me.  It is a milonga.  He dances the traspie nicely.

I return to the table.  Sandra has also been dancing.  We try to talk, but with Juan at the table it is impossible.  He jabbers constantly in a loud voice.  He is funny.  He has comments about everyone and everything.  They are playing Castillo with Tanturi.  I need to dance.  I look around.  The guy against the wall is still looking at me.  OK, it is almost the 3rd song.  I accept his invitation.

We go to the floor.  I go into his embrace.  I am not prepared for this dance. Neither is he.  With all the passion of the music I am swept away.  I do something I almost never do.  I close my eyes.  We are two bodies moving as one.  The song ends.  We face each other. Finally I say "Wow!"  because I can think of nothing else to say.  He smiles and says to me "Si." We dance the next song.  Where did this guy come from? 

I sit down.  I watch this guy dance with another woman.  She cannot keep up with him.  I cannot wait for the tanda to end.  I want to dance with him again.  Vals!  Yes!  I look back against the wall.  An over-aged Barbie is talking his ear off.  He looks at me.  I smile.  He excuses himself and comes to get me.

Again, a powerful dance.  This is not some milonga dancer.  "I say to him, where are you from?"  He tells me he is from here.  I tell him how I thought he might be an Italian visiting.  He finds that humorous.  He tells me he though that I was Argentine and how funny to hear my accent.  We dance the next song.

I can do my suspended giro, he laughs.  A happy laugh.  He does a little footwork, I laugh.  We are like children.  You do not find partners like this in the milonga.  Not often.  During the next break I say to him "I have never seen you before."  He tells me that he was in a relationship.  His girlfriend did not like the milonga.  It was difficult for him.  I tell him I understand.  For me if the guy dances it is a nightmare, if the guy doesn't dance it is a nightmare.  With tango as your addiction, it makes life difficult sometimes.

When I am seated at the table, Juan looks at me.  "Te gusta bailando con el pibe?"  he asks me.  "Si," I say to him.  "Baila muy buen."  Juan stares at me.  "Vamos."  He gets up and takes me to dance.  He never once criticizes me.  In fact he even says something nice to me about my dancing.

Next tanda, my new friend invites me.  Three tandas in one night.  I don't care.  Sandra looks at me.  I shrug my shoulders.  I don't care if people talk.  Just what are they going to say?  "La Rubia baila 3 tandas?"  Y que!

How many times do I dream to dance this way?  How many times do I leave a milonga wondering if I will ever dance with someone who feels the passion of the music?  Here I am swept away, by this stranger into what is my tango.  His tango.  A connection no one can explain.  One that almost never happens.

I say to him "Do you dance for work or for your heart?"  He tells me the milonga is his dance for the heart.  He dances for work.  He teaches in a school.  He dances for shows and events.  Now that he and his partner are separated he is not sure what will happen.  I say nothing.  "Here in the milonga" he tells me, "I dance for me, for my tango, for the love of the music."

The tanda ends.  I again go back to my table.  I am hardly seated when Juan looks at me. "Vamos".  I go to dance with him.  He is a splendid dancer.  I love to dance with him.  He has so much cadencia.  Feeling.  But the connection I have with the other, is not there.  How can anyone explain this?

Sandra is leaving.  I tell her I want to stay.  She gives me a little smile.  "You look great with him" she tells me.  Juan hears her.  I say good bye to Sandra and tell her we will talk tomorrow.  We are going to Enrique's tomorrow.

For the next hour I alternate between Juan and my guy sitting against the wall. It is almost comical. I think I have danced more with Juan this night than all the nights together.  Amazing what a little competition can do.

Sometimes  I dance with the Viejo.  He is muy simpatico.  He loves to talk about the music.  He always tells me stories.  In the middle of one, I see my friend looking at me to dance another tanda of vals. I ask the Viejo to pardon me, I must go to dance.  I meet  my dancer at the edge of the floor.

I lost count of the tandas I have danced with him.  This certainly will set the tongues wagging.  Funny how I can dance with Juan the same amount of times, and no one will care, because we were seated at his table.  The codigos...easier to work for IBM.

I ask my friend his name, "Juan." he tells me.  I tell him I am Deby.  "Juan more time"  I think to myself. Una noche de Juans.  As we finish the tanda, I tell him dancing with him is wonderful.  "You too."  he says to me.  "A real surprise."  "You are really good, a pleasure."  He says to me "It is not only me, it is half me and half you. Surely you must know that.  Let's dance again.  One more time."

The Milonga Chronicles....Milonguera Extranjera

Helen and I are going to meet Sandra at SoHo Tango.  Patricio and Adriana have a milonga here on Wednesdays.  I have always liked this place.  Mostly because I can walk here.  Before they had the milonga, Marta had it for two years.

It is a more intimate place.  A smaller room.  The air conditioning works.  We come every Wednesday.  Helen is my guest who is visiting from New York and staying with me.  We tease her and call her "the Korean Sex Symbol."  She is a quiet, serious, woman.  Well was.  After hanging out with Sandra and I she admits she has become somewhat of a party animal.  She thinks every day is a party day with us.  Not really, that is just life here.

We are ready to walk the 8 blocks when Sandra calls.  "I will pick you guys up."  Helen rolls her eyes.  She cannot believe we are going in a taxi 8 blocks.  It is for the friendship, so we can walk in together.  Not for the distance.

My friend Victor who lives in San Francisco and runs the Mariposa Milonga at the Verdi Club is going to meet us there.  He has been hanging out with us.  I adore him, and it is great to see him again.  The only part I miss about my life in the U.S. is my friends.  (And Costco, Target, and The Gap)

We walk into the milonga.  We have a regular table.  As we make our way, we greet our friends. The waitress knows our order.  She brings our water before we ask for it.  We tell her tonight we want a bottle of champagne. 

I look around the room.  Before I can say anything Sandra starts to complain "Too many women.  Look at all of them.  There is no one to dance with."  I tell her to stop complaining.  It is early.  She always complains about the same thing, but she stays until 4:00 am.

A man walks by our table. He looks at me "I am going to dance with you tonight."  he says.  Sandra and I look at each other.  I shrug my shoulders.  Helen is dancing non-stop.  We tease her.  "Korean Sex Symbol"  she laughs.

I notice a man looking at me, looking at me,looking at me.  He looks like a beginner.  He is probably in the class before the milonga.  I would not mind dancing with him.  He is kind of cute.  I will dance with a few of the others first.

Sandra is still complaining as she accepts a dance from a friend who she does not like to dance with.  The man who walked by the table is looking at me.  I accept a dance with him.  I have seen him dance, he seemed like a nice dancer. I go into his embrace.  He surprises me with his caminata, it is excellent.  Few men can dance a caminata well.  I remark to him "Que buena tu caminata!"  He smiles.

Between songs he says to me "It is an honor to dance with you." Oh no, is this a new pickup line? I laugh "Why?"  He says to me "A professional dancer like you? I am honored."  I laugh.  I tell him I do not dance professionally anymore.  He continues, "I used to see you with your friend.  I saw you on the TV and in the newspaper.  La milonguera extranjera." (The foreign milonguera) I laugh again.

He adds some nice footwork to the dance.  Why have I missed this guy?  He probably does not go to dance much.  I ask him where he goes, he tells me.  I ask him "Why have I missed you?"  He tells me he always sees me, but never invited me to dance.  Duh...

Victor comes in.  He is crammed into our table with us.  He doesn't seem to mind.  He loves being with 3 women.  We make jokes all the time.  We love having him with us.

The three of us are dancing all the time.  Sandra has stopped complaining. Now there are men here for us to dance with.  It is interesting to look at people dance.  This milonga is small.  You can easily tell the bad Argentine dancers from the bad foreign dancers.  The bad Argentine dancers hunch over and out.  The bad foreign dancers usually stand up and lean forward and take larger steps.

Another guy I know is staring at me.  I have not danced with him before.  I see him in the milongas and greet him, but that has been it.  I go to dance with him.  Unlike the first man, he is not that great a dancer.  Not important.  He tells me "I have wanted to dance with you for a long time." "You never invited me."  I tell him. " I was always afraid to ask you."  he says.  I always find this an interesting answer.

He tells me that he saw me on tv and he was so proud.  "You are so porteña.  You had me laughing so hard."  I was a little crazy on the show, acting like myself, but still nutty.  "The other guy was so stiff, so serious, but you were funny."  I thank him.  He asks me lots of questions about my living here.  Then he asks me where I learned to dance.  He tells me what lot of people here do "You dance like us, and that is not usual for a foreigner."  I tell him I never really had lots of lessons either in the U.S. or here.  I mostly learned from the milongueros.  "Milonguera extranjera" he smiles. 

"You had no lessons, really?" he asks again.  I tell him I had some lessons but not many. I learned to dance in the milongas here.  I tell him Mimi is a friend of mine, and I have translated for her for years.  I learned a lot listening to her. "Ahh, Mimi es la reina (queen)" he says.  "Yes, but she is my friend not my teacher." I make sure he understands that.   Then he asks about my former partner.  "Yes," I tell him, "he was an influence on my dance. He brought out the elegance."  "You don't dance with him anymore?" he asks.  I shake my head.  "We don't talk to each other."  "What a pity." he says.  Maybe for my dance, but not for much else.  He hugs me when the tanda ends "Thank you for loving my country."

Capo Lento comes in.  Helen and I roll our eyes.  "Abuelo" we laugh.  Sandra uses her stream of English with us "Shut up, jerks, okey dokey artichokey."  That sends all of us laughing.  It is still hard to believe she likes this old guy. Well as they say here "hay por todo".  (Something for everyone)

Capo lento invites her to dance.  Even Victor is surprised. "That guy is old." he comments.  He takes Helen to dance.  I am seated alone.  At the second song I see the beginner student guy staring at me.  I accept his invitation to dance.  This is probably not a good idea.  But better here than a bigger milonga.

I go into his embrace.  It is a little awkward. He is just standing there.  He starts to move side to side. Then stops. Then a step back. He is nervous.  I understand that.  The problem is we are in the line of dance and going to be a problem.  Some of the men are already giving me that "What the hell are you doing look."  I tell this man, "No precupes, camina, esta bien a caminar."  (Don't worry, walk, it is ok to just walk)

"No" he tells me and continues to move side to side, then stop, then back a step.  He is probably trying to remember whatever pattern he had in class.  I am trying to be kind. I know he must have watched me dance.  I tell him again, "esta bien - camina con la musica."  (It's OK, just walk to the music) He then tells me "NO" with force. 

I ask him if he is new to the milonga. (does milk come from cows?) He won't answer.  "You are a foreigner."  Ahh here we go, blame me for your inability to dance. I tell him "Yes, I am foreign but I have danced for many years here in the milongas." He gives that snide little laugh they always give before they think they are going to slam me. He tells me he takes the class before the milonga with Daniel.  I tell him I have known Daniel for many years. He is still stumbling around on the floor.  Thank God we are not bumping into anyone. Then he makes that big fat mistake "You know, you are the problem"  I don't let him finish.  Probably he is going to say because I don't take classes with Daniel or because I am foreign or some other crap.

I lose my patience.  I have been nice.  I should never accepted a dance with him.  I never do this.  But I am so tired of idiots.  "Soy bien conocida en la milonga.  Baile en canal 7.  Estuve in Clarin.  Soy la milonguera extranjera.  Todos conocen mi baile."  I tell him and I walk off the floor.  He is probably too stupid to know that I have just delivered a major insult leaving him in the middle of the floor.

"Nena, nena, nena." the man seated next to me says. "What were you thinking dancing with him?" I don't even have to explain why I walked off the floor. I shrug my shoulders. Sometimes it does not pay to be nice.  I look to my left.  At the table in front are a group of guys that dance well.  They always greet me, but they never dance with me.

I look at them. Two of them are pushing at each other as to who is going to dance with me. I can't believe it.  Like young boys, only the are in their 50s.  Finally I just point to one of them and he comes to get me.  He is a beautiful dancer.  "Que linda sos" he tells me.  (How pretty you are)  I like dancing with him and I tell him.  "We have not danced for many years, the last time was at Celia's"  I don't remember, but I do not say anything.

When the tanda ends, he thanks me.  I thank him back.  It was a nice dance.  He walks me to my table. Victor is tired and he is going to leave.  "You guys are crazy." he says.  "I like my milonga better."  We laugh at him.  He always says this.

I saw Sandra dancing with a man I have always wanted to dance with.  "How was your dance?"  I ask her. "Great" she says.  "Muy buen compas"  I tell her he never invites me.  "Look at him, he will.  What other options does he have tonight?"  I look at him, and get nothing.  On the second song I look again.  YES! He invites me.  I stay seated until he comes to get me.

It is a tanda of D'arienzo.  How lucky.  The man comments how we have never danced before.  He tells me that he was on vacation for 6 weeks and did not dance at all.  "Me muero por mi tango" he tells me. (I died for my tango)  I tell him I feel the same sometimes when I do not have time to go dance. I make a comment that since he has probably danced his whole life, 6 weeks is a long time.  He smiles, "I have only been dancing for 11 years."  I am shocked.  This man dances like he has danced his whole life.  I tell him that.

"My brothers always danced tango, my uncles, my father.  But me no.  I always listened to the music.  It was always playing in my house.  It was not until 11 years ago I decided to learn to dance.  I have not stopped since."  I am still amazed.  I tell him, "I have been dancing 9 - 10 years."  "Yes, I remember you in the beginning.  Sos mas linda ahora."  he says to me. 

I do not want this tanda to end.  Everything is perfect.  This must be my last dance.  I have to get up early and it is already 3:00 am.  Calavera nochilla.  La milonguera extranjera.

Something Old, Something New

"What do you want to do tonight?"  Sandra asks me.  I tell her I am tired of the same old milongas.  I want to go somewhere different. I suggest we go to Las Glorietas Argentinas.  "That place? It's full of old people and couples."  "Well then, you should love it."  I tell her.  "You like old men, so it should be perfect."  We have a running joke about how she loves the men 20 years older than she, and I like them 20 years younger.

Las Glorietas is out in Mataderos.  This is the barrio where the slaughter houses are.  This is an old barrio.  The streets are still cobblestone in most places.  It is not all that charming.  Most days the smell from the slaughter houses is overwhelming.  We decide we should go in a taxi rather than the bus.  Sandra calls Marta to meet us there.  She lives in Floresta which is close by.

Strangely enough, Marta is a mutual friend.  I have known her for years.  One of those people that whenever you see them, you say, "We should get together."  But you never do.  At one of Sandra's birthday parties, Marta showed up.  What a surprise. 

Neither one of us have been here in years.  I think I last came in 2001, Sandra says maybe 2003 for her. The milonga is far from the central.  Our taxi driver is adorable.  He finds Sandra and I a great comedy team.  Here we are all dressed up.  Going to a part of the Capital way far out.  Me the foreigner giving directions.

When we get there, I wonder if we are overdressed.  The truth is we are.  The people here are very humble.  Las Glorietas is in a recreation hall, a community center.  There is wood paneling on the walls, the floor is tiled.  The tables line the floor.  The place is packed.

It turns out the organizer knows us.  I know lots of people, but I don't always know their names.  A name in a book means nothing to me.  A face is a 1000 words.  "What have I done to have you two beautiful girls come to my milonga?"  He asks.   We both laugh, until he tells us that there is no room to sit.  Sandra tells him we are with Marta.  He tells us there is no room.  Sandra pouts.  He puts us at a table in the back.  She is mad. 

The girl at the table Natalia is beautiful.  She says we can't sit there.  Her friend has reserved it for 6.  We explain we are waiting for Marta.  We look around the room.  Lots of people I know.  Men who play single during the week are here with their wives.  I always love to see what the wives look like.  I am sure they come out here so that the women they play with during the week do not see them with their wives.  We do not exist to them here.  How could we?  They would have to explain to their wives how they know us.  Better to pretend they don't.

I see Nido.  He comes to the table to greet me.  Dany Garcia is also here.  There is to be an exhibition  Marta comes in, we see her and wave her over.  Sandra immediately starts to whine about the table.  Marta tells her not to worry.  She goes up to the organizer and before you know it we are at one of the best tables in front.  Now Sandra is happy.

We look around.  There are all ages here.  There are babies, children, all the way to probably great grand parents.  No comme il fauts here.  No Neo Tango.  These are not people who spend $1000 of pesos on private lessons and shoes.  These are people who were taught by an uncle, a mother, a cousin.  Simple plain tango. They come here to eat dinner, dance, and socialize.  No histeria.

The exhibitions are sprinkled throughout the night.  Some of the dancers are so bad, you wonder how they have the nerve to perform.  One young woman advertises herself as a teacher.  Her dancing is so poor, I feel like I should offer her lessons.  Her partner shuffles her around the floor while they look at each other's feet.  What is even sadder is they tour outside the country.  I can just hear Americans and the British saying "But they are Argentine."  So what.  They can't dance. Dany Garcia, Pibe Avellenada, and Luna Palacios are spectacular. 

I dance with Mario.  He is surprised to see me here.  This guy must be 85 years old at least.  He asks me if I know the orchestra.  I tell him "Yes, Miguel Calo."  "Do you know the singer?"  I shake my head no.  He tells me who it is.  Then he tells me that in the late 40s, he had a girlfriend who was from Paraguay. Her sister was the girlfriend of Miguel Calo.  On Saturdays he would play on Corrientes.  He and his girlfriend would go to hear Miguel Calo play.  "After", he tells me. "We would go to eat.  Miguel would always fall asleep , his head on table."

Horacio is here from La Baldosa.  He reminds me that I have not been to his milonga this year.  We have a running joke about how I go to his milonga once a year.  I tell him it is only February, I have 10 more months.  Maybe next month.  I can only take so many barrio milongas.

Marta orders pizza.  When it comes to the table our eyes are huge.  The pizza is worth the trip out here, and it is cheap!  We drink cheap red wine and eat pizza.  Before we know it, it is 3:30 am.  We ask the woman at the door to call us a remise.  We stand outside and wait for it.  Pibe and Dany come to greet us.  Pibe wants me to come to La Viruta with them.  NOT!  Dany laughs.  He knows I will not go.

Sandra and I agree it has been a fun night.  Something different to do. Something old, something new. It will probably be another 5 - 7 years before I come out here again.