The Tango Addiction

2009-02-15T21:33:00.000-08:00

My Lover

2009-02-12T13:56:00.000-08:00

It has been an unexplainable, all-consuming, untamed, all-or-nothing, love-hate affair.

I knew from the very first instant. He swept me off my feet, suddenly, instantly, completely. Without so much as a cloud of warning, he stormed into my life, seduced me and made me his in a way I can never belong to anyone else.

He is relentless, my lover. He will never let go. He disappears, sometimes for long enough to lure me into thinking that maybe this time it will be for good. My soul longs for him, like a wild river for the sea, but maybe this time I will break free of his intoxicating grip, at last.

As a hurricane wind, he swoops back to claim his place in the very core of my heart, which he then leaves behind in pieces. I feel his grip again, tightening around my being while I let him in with painful, sweet surrender... I close my eyes, part my lips and once again, I am his. With every fiber of my being, with everything I am. He leads me into ecstasy. We become one.

And then the pain again. As in an addiction, I am ever recovering from this intoxication, ever succumbing anew... He can be the gentlest, most attentive lover and awaken every part of me to something I never knew before. Knowing every nuance of my body and soul, playing me like the most exquisite instrument, he can make me feel happiness so intense that it hurts. Then leaves me open, like a wound, naked and torn...

When he is gone, I look for him behind flat faces, hoping he will apprear as out of a cruel joke, console me like a child, hold me into his arms, steal my breath again and give me the bliss I have become to know so well... When he finally comes back to me, I forgive. As I always will.

A perpetual story of love and passion. I envy those who haven't known it. And I pity them.

My lover has had many faces, many voices, many embraces...

And one name.

El Tango.

Interview with Daniela Pucci

2008-12-30T11:50:00.000-08:00

I found this interview very inspirational.

Performance at Chicago Tango Week 2008

Tango Fab or Tan-ghetto Fab

2008-12-18T09:33:00.000-08:00

Our Sitemeter indicates there's been a lot of people searching for "tango dresses" online. So I figured I'd google it today to see what I would find. The first three websites that popped up were Edressme.com, Tangoleva.com and Ekclothing.com. Aha! Just as I thought... the usual suspects; halter spandex with asymmetrical hems, frilly wedding cake tier numbers and, let's not forget the infamous, "when animals attack" shreds. What makes one think of metallics, gold lamés and sequins when designing "tango" dresses for the masses? I mean... sure, we usually spot one or two tan-ghetto fab victim(s) at milongas. Is there really such a big market for these looks because it seems that's all I am able to find? What's a modern tanguera to do? I mean come on ladies! I know you want to look the part but unless your dance skills scream louder than your dress, I would think twice about sporting it. Leave the sequins to the pros! Yes, even the pros occasionally fall victim to tan-ghetto fab. I've seen one tanguera repeatedly perform in the same ill-fitting corset. It really boggles my mind... isn't one wardrobe malfunction enough??? The whole corset twisted in mid-performance and she literally had to finish the dance with one hand covering her left boob. Que pasa chica?

This topic has been covered by many of our beloved blogueras. My all time favorite is La Planchadora. Who can forget those outrageously funny tango-dresses posts? It's really unfortunate for us she's not blogging much these days.

I figured I would post a few today in honor of her. Enjoy!

All this tango couture love can be yours for the small price of $950 (Sorry ladies, the headband/strap piece is not included.) The model looks pissed.. can you blame her?

When animals attack your hair, too.

Hey, you know there's something not kosher, when they offer you a free mask to go with the dress.... or was it the other way around... free trash bag with purchase of Halloween mask?

I don't know about you but I sure wouldn't want anything dangling between my legs when I am dancing.

Well, this hot number speaks for itself but is that a loose thread or is it really her stocking? Why? WHY??

Stay tuned for BsAs adventures...

2008-11-06T11:28:00.000-08:00

Tango-licious Dresses

2008-08-17T07:12:00.000-07:00

Bluebee is having a 60% off sale and there are quite a few tango-licious dresses. Have fun shopping ladies!

Foley Tube Dress with Tail Back

Karanina Polka Dot Convertible Dress Red

Dina Bar-El Roushed Dress Forest

Foley Sandra's Tube Dress Jade

D & G Rouched Red Dress

Love and Tango

2008-08-10T09:47:00.001-07:00

Malena's last post "What is love?" got me thinking.

I was in love... it had ended several months ago. It'd been difficult to adjust to the way things were before I fell in love. To have had it and then to wake up without it made my world a little colder. I tried to pick up other hobbies like Pole Dancing. It was definitely a good distraction from the pain I felt inside. I was sore for several days after each class. In some ways it was comforting to feel the pain and feel it dissipate with each passing day. Perhaps I needed the reminder that this pain inside will also eventually lessen with time.

More than I like to admit but I did dance less when I was in love. Words of my maestro ring loud in my head, "Most women dance, then they stop when they find boyfriends... then they come back when the relationship ends." I disgreed at the time... I guess it's because I was so in love with tango that I couldn't see life without it... boyfriend or not. If I had met someone with jealousy issues, I'd probably end it because it would conflict with my tango life.

I hadn't wanted to dance since the Miami Tango Festival. I was disgusted with what I had witnessed there. Quite a few tangueros were standing around like flies hovering around a piece of fruit. Poor Malena had trouble fending them off. Even a famous well respected older teacher, whose name I will not mention, had acted inappropriately. I believe he had a few too many to drink and took the opportunity to "accidentally" fondle her during their dance. Not to mention our mysterious stranger who masked as a "friendly fellow tango dancer" had an agenda up his sleeve. I guess it is human nature, men will always be men. It just upsets me that some of these men use their skills and tango status to prey on unsuspecting women. This left a bad taste in my mouth and I wanted to be far far away from the tango after that milonga.

It's been three months and today is the first day I decided to dance again. So I made an appointment with my maestro. I'm sure he will ask me where I've been and why I haven't been dancing. Perhaps it's this love-hate relationship with tango that keeps me going back. Not long after I had abandoned it, it was calling out to me. I miss and long for that high again. The feeling of being completely lost in the music... that sustained loving hug/embrace with a total stranger... and the ultimate ever changing roller-coaster ride, it just never gets old. Perhpas maestro was right... maybe love and tango is more closely linked then I'd realized. Perhaps all single tangueros and tangueras secretly long to find love on the dance floor. Even when they go home alone... there's still the promise of love in that 3 minute embrace. Is it possible that we sometimes feel more security with our dance partners than we do with our partners in real life?

What Is Love?

2008-07-28T18:30:00.000-07:00

What is Eva up to now?

2008-07-22T20:39:00.000-07:00

As usual, I decided to do this on a whim. The studio so happens to be right next door to my office building. The class starts right when my workday ends. I wanted to find a way to incorporate fitness with fun. And to be quite honest, I've always wondered what it feels like to be one of these sexy divas. Well, It's only been two weeks and I already have a new found respect for them. I have bruises on both of my knees, burns on my wrist, palm and ankle and my body is aching in unusual places. Yes it can be painful but when you are making that first perfect spin.... with controlled speed and multiple rotations .... it feels like Disney (but only the adult version).

The Seduction Of the Unknown

2008-05-30T21:33:00.000-07:00

Opening night. No high hopes judging by the scarce number of people present. We were determined to have a nice time, dancing or not. As Eva was quickly swept by an unknown dancer, I looked around. I was vaguely aware of a man in a dark suit making his way to our table. A few minutes later, as a new song began, he appeared as if out of nowhere and asked me to dance. I knew it instantly. From his very posture, from the very first sensation of his embrace. Divine. No more, no less. After a few tandas, he walked me back to our table, then disappeared.

We continued having very good dances. It must have been the newness of it all. After the showcase, Eva and I decided to arrange for a private lesson with the chacarera boys that performed (what a better way to learn this enchanting dance). We stepped out of the ballroom to sign up and on the way back we saw the dark suited man carrying a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket into the room. We looked at each other and giggled with regret - how did we not think of that?! Apparently other people agree that champagne is the best companion to a milonga night.

As we were sitting down back at our table, we noticed the chilled champagne and three glassed placed right in front of our seats, as if awaiting our return. Hmmm... Thinking that someone mistakenly took our table for available we continued dancing with a few strangers. Before long we saw the tall man approaching us, then softly addressing us, "Ladies, champagne? It's a night of celebration." Of course it was! Just past midnight, it was already Eva's birthday! But how did he know that?! He asked for permission to sit with us and without delay started pouring champagne. We started talking and we got to learn a little about him. That he was an amazing dancer, we already knew. The bubbles were already making us feel happy and radiant. Eva danced with our lovely stranger in turn. Her eyes were closed, she was in a state of dreamy surrender. At the end of the night, more champagne outdoors by the beach, with the moon shining on us...

He insisted to take us to dinner the next night for Eva's birthday. Everything was planned to perfection. Stunning restaurant with extraordinarily decadent food. Fountains of champagne. Pictures. Slowly we are becoming aware of how all this was coming across. We feel the surrounding glances intrigued by the scene. At our remark that we were probably too crazy for him, he replies with a mysterious smile, "Not crazy enough..." We are beginning to realize what our less of a stranger is after (Funny! Is this every man's fantasy?!)...

Perhaps because of this, perhaps because we had already gotten to know him a little, that night at the milonga the magic was gone. Same dancer, same skill, but with the romance of the unknown gone and with his agenda right on the table, next to yet another bottle of champagne, we felt an empty dance.

It seems the magic in tango is this very special and fragile combination of a multitude of aspects and with even one missing, the magic vanishes, the embrace becomes confinement, the steps just units of movement... Can we define the magic, can we capture the emotion? The closest we got is the realization that the mystery and an anonymous face are key. You don't have expectations, you are at the edge of all possibilities. But after the masks are down and the faces acquire outlines, we come back to reality and disappointment settles as everyone is eager to assume their sharp individuality, vanity, pretenses...

Tango anonymous?

Tango on the Beach

2008-05-15T08:55:00.001-07:00

In exactly 7 days, we will be on a plane heading to Miami, Florida.

Top 5 things on my packing list:

Bikinis
Flip-flops
Sunscreen
Tango wear
3 pairs of CIFs

We were originally planning to go to the Denver festival but, at the very last minute, the visuals of zipping champagne by the pool and tangoing by the beach won us over. So Miami Tango Fantasy 2008 here we come! This will be our first tango festival away from home. Interestingly, it will also be my birthday. I used to spend my birthday in Miami every year with a group of single girlfriends. Our vacation included staying at a fancy hotel, dining at the trendiest restaurant and dancing at the hottest nightclubs. Awww... so much has changed since I started tango. I've had to rack my brain to come up with good excuses why I can't vacation with them anymore. "Ohhh that sounds wonderful but I'm so swamped with work.".... "I would love to but I just don't have the funds right now." or "I wish I could but I think I'm coming down with the flu." It took me a long time but I think I can finally confess to them... "I don't want to go because I'd rather TANGO." To be honest, I've lost touch with a few friends because my idea of fun and relaxation no longer revolves around drinking and dancing with hot men. Well let me rephrase that.... it's more about the dancing.... with much less drinking and there'll almost be room for hot men (if they can dance that is). So I'm going back to Miami and, for the first time, I do not plan leave the confines of my hotel. It'll be all about the beach, the lessons and the milongas.

...and maybe we'll finally get to tango on the beach.

Open Air

2008-05-06T18:25:00.000-07:00

He loves me. I am his hopes, his dreams, his life. He wants us to start a life together. He says he dreams of the time when he will learn to dance. So that I am his in every way. And not dance with anyone else.

Suddenly I am struggling for air. I am terrified. I felt the space rapidly closing in front of me. I can't do it.

I never had to think about this before. I longed to belong. I always thought that my desire for openness was a means to an end and would ultimately lead to a sweet surrender. Now I just need to feel the limitless space around me... Indefinitely. To have any possible tanda I want, any impossible tanda I dream of... Is there a successful union of love and our tango identity?

Is tango an expression of freedom? Does it represent our spirited nature, that side of us that refuses to be tamed??

I want it to be open, so open that the horizon can contain anything... So open that if I set my spirit free, it can go anywhere...

Time for Tango Rehab??

2008-05-01T08:48:00.000-07:00

On the night of my usual milonga I am leaving the house for the airport to pick up friends from out of town coming to visit me. After a few seconds of hesitation, I run back and throw a pair of CiFs in my bag. Just in case.
Ok, wait! In case of what??? The plane having a three hour delay so that I can go dance a little?! I start realizing, for a thousandth time, how irrational this is. Have we gone too far? Is this normal?!

I dream about tango several times a week. I suffer withdrawal if I don't dance for a couple of days. I hear tango music in my head most of the time. I have 30GB of music on my ipod, but end up listening to about a hundred songs 90% of the time (yes, tango). When I hear tango music unexpectedly my heart skips a beat. No, several beats. On the way to a milonga I am more excited with anticipation than when going to a first date. I cross as I stop at a traffic light. I cannot even walk after hours of dancing, but I can surely do another tanda. I would (and do) cancel any other plans to dance. I get by on 5 hours of sleep on a regular basis. I pity people who have not experienced all this.

Even if normal for a beginner who is still in the tango honeymoon bliss, for me this has been reality for about a year and a half. Relentlessly.

Is it time for a Tango Rehab? Or should we just be left to our obsession? Has life ever had more colors...

A Short Film About Love & Tango

2008-04-29T16:41:00.000-07:00

I stumbled upon this adorable short film by a tango couple today.

The video was shot at the South Street Seaport by Pier 16. It really brought back fond memories of last summer for me. The relaxing atmosphere attracted dancers of all levels and all ages. Most people dressed casually, some wore dance sneakers and I opted for tango shoes with a slightly chunkier heel. No matter how practical it may seem..... I'm just not a sneaker girl. So ladies, please leave your stilletos at home. Your heels will definitely get stuck in the gaps between the old wooden planks.

I think this historic waterfront is the perfect backdrop for a milonga. The old ships... the smell of salty air... and especially when the DJ plays earlier recordings, it can really transport you back in time.

Tango Porteno should start again sometime in May and we'll be checking the schedule on Richard Lipkin's website.

(BTW, you can spot Malena dancing in this video.)

Places we'd like to tango

2008-04-28T18:28:00.001-07:00

The Airport
We thought of this one on our way back from Buenos Aires while waiting for our flight. We just might have to write the (Ezeiza) Ministro Pistarini International Airport and suggest a Tango Lounge. Last tanda in Buenos Aires anyone?

The Grand Central Terminal
Ahh.. the hustle and bustle. Wouldn't it be beautiful to dance to a live tango orchestra playing in that grand space?

Subway platforms
I'm usually listening to tango on my ipod waiting for the train. While trying hard not to let my foot tap too much, I often think to myself... "If only I can find a tanguero right now, I would totally do it right here."

The Yoga Studio
I love yoga but I can't help thinking about tango everytime I see that perfect wooden floor with candles lit in all corners.

Supermarkets
I must admit... I will never look at another shopping cart the same way again... thanks to that italian short film Perdizione.

The Staten Island Ferry
Trip time: Approx. 25 minutes. That should be enough time for a couple of tandas... right?

The Boardwalk at Sunset
Who wouldn't love to tango with the warm ocean breeze?

The Empire State Building Observatory
Imagine tangoing on top of the world.

I need to dance

2008-04-24T19:34:00.000-07:00

I need to dance because I had a stressful day at work.

I need to dance because I'm feeling lonely.

I need to dance because I want to feel the power of zen.

I need to dance because I want to practice what I'd just learned.

I need to dance because I'm feeling rusty.

I need to dance because I just had a fight with my lover.

I need to dance because I want to breath in the different scents of random men.

I need to dance because I want to let my inner diva come alive.

I need to dance because I want to feel sexy.

I need to dance because I want to live in the moment.

I need to dance because I need a hug.

I need to dance because I want to feel the warmth of a stranger's body press against me.

I need to dance because I need to be someone else for a while.

I need to dance because I need to in a room filled with tango music.

I need to dance because I feel like crying.

I need to dance because I just want to forget.

I need to dance because I need to break in a new pair of CIFs.

I need to dance because I want to feel beautiful.

I need to dance because I just bought a new tango dress.

I need to dance because I know he's going to be there.

I need to dance because I want to feel him adjusting his embrace mid-dance so he can hold me closer.

I need to dance because I could use the exercise.

I need to dance because I want to meet "the others".

I need to dance because it makes everything more beauti-full.

I need to dance because this is my life now.

A book, ideas of freedom and tango championships

2008-04-04T20:25:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine mentioned a book that appears to be quite popular, "The Four Hour Workweek" by the guy who wrote the blog post "How to live like a rock star in BsAs". I hadn't heard of it, but I stopped by the bookstore today and picked up a copy. The concept is that if you regroup your views of life and manage to conquer you fears, or unplug and reset as the author defines it, you can escape the 9-5 grind and do anything you want anywhere you want to do it.

At first I thought, oh great, yet another self-help book that offends intelligence more than it achieves anything else. However, was it because the author turns out to be a BsAs Tango World Championship winner, the whole idea started to resonate with me (funny how any life change plan I would consider at this point has to involve the prospect of being able to dance as much as my heart desires...)

As I am reading the first few chapters, it almost sounds doable, until the the necessity to be reasonable and 'realistic', with which we have been programmed, hits. I sure do hope that one day I will have the strength to pause this pseudo-reality and go... And to all of those that have actually challenged themselves and followed their bravest dreams, my admiration!

Inspirational read so far. What I found interesting, however, was that Timothy Ferriss, an American, had only danced tango for a year before he won the competition. Guys, is this possible?? I am not doubting it, but just a year?! Here is a video from the event:

And btw, the whole idea of a tango championship seems odd, doesn't it? Since tango is nothing else more than it is a passion, how do you judge a feeling...

I missed you all and Besos,

Malena

Otros Aires in Canada

2008-04-02T06:13:00.001-07:00

We got an email from our friend Andy Kamienski several weeks ago. He is a teacher specializing in close embrace at El Abrazo (Toronto), DJ and organizer of TangoLoft, a monthly milonga in Toronto, Canada.

We met in Buenos Aires back in Nov and had one of the most beautiful tandas at an alternative milonga at Saloon Canning. This is very exciting news ... he is bringing one of my favorite electronic tango bands Otros Aires to Toronto on April 26th and 27th. Malena and I will try our best to be there.

Here's some info if you're interested in attending.

Otros Aires Concert & Dance
Saturday April 26, 2008 9:00pm
The Dovercourt House
805 Dovercourt Road
Toronto, Canada

Sunday April 27, 2008 8:30pm
Lula Lounge
1585 Dundas St. W
Toronto, Canada

$40.00
$45.00 at the door (if available)

For physical tickets or information please call Andy at (416) 767-0033
or email us at info@tangoloft.ca

To new beginnings...

2008-04-01T09:29:00.000-07:00

"How do you do an ocho again?", I asked Malena. "Oh stop! It’s like riding a bike... you never really forget." she tells me. We hadn't danced for two and a half months. I can hardly recall the warmth of the tango embrace. The excitement and joy I once felt seemed to have abandoned me back in Dec. Dancing tango was always my escape from reality. For the past 16 months, it'd been my way of life. So when I woke up on that cold winter morning and didn’t feel that urge to dance, I was confused and sad.

I tried going to a few milongas but had the most miserable time. I sat most of these evenings with only 2 to 3 invitations. Perhaps it was self manifestation or maybe I was dancing like Elaine from that Seinfeld episode and didn't know it. It brought back bad memories of high school dances; all dressed up and sitting pretty. The boys giving me the "once-look-over" then rejected me for the prettier girl next to me. It didn't seem to make any sense. I hadn't felt this level of rejection before, except for that one bad night with the tan-ego. For the past year, I rarely ever sit for more than a tanda. I've danced with many tangueros, from true beginners to seasoned instructors. What's puzzling to me is that I was asked to dance more often as a beginner than I do now with a little more skills under my belt. Malena and I tried to come up with some explanations. A) We appear to be snotty because we are often engrossed in conversation and may have appeared at times not interested in dancing. B) We danced too many tandas with certain individuals and they may have appeared as our exclusive partners. C) We haven't been going to milongas as much as we use to. It will take some time for people to warm up to us again, the old and new faces.

We decided mid-week to venture out to the Yale Festival for the All Night Milonga. Malena was very excited. The first words out of her mouth were... "OMG we have to try this pizza!!!" Apparently, she had watched a special on the food network about New Haven's two famous pizzerias Sally's and Frank Pepe's. We checked into the hotel around 6pm then set out to find Sally and Frank. We drove by Sally's and there was already a long line outside the restaurant, so we moved onto Frank's, which was two blocks down the road. Line was slightly shorter there. "Frank Pepe it is!" I honestly didn't think I’d ever wait more than 30 minutes for dough, sauce and cheese but the wait proved to be worthwhile. The pizza was delicious, even though our waitress was a bit rude, she demanded to take our order immediately and rolled her eyes a few times when she realized we hadn't picked out our toppings.

On the way back to the hotel, we picked up a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. We had a glass then decided to take a nap before the milonga. When we finally woke up, it was 11:30pm. Still sleepy, we rushed to get ready. We asked the hotel concierge to direct us to the Harkness building (where the milonga was held). She gave us a map then off we went. We didn't realize at the time there were two different Harkness locations. We stumbled into an old building hoping to hear faint sounds of tango music... but nada. When I gently pushed the large wooden front doors and it swung open automatically. The loud sound of the door hinge squeaking echoed in the corridor. Not a soul in sight, it was now midnight. Out of nowhere I see a boy wearing a black hoody rushing out of the adjacent door. As he walked past me, I tried to stop him for directions. "Excuse me..... excuse me!", I hollered. As if he couldn’t hear me at all, he kept walking and disappeared though the door. I looked at Malena, "Hmm... I think we better get out of here!" We rushed back to the car and looked at the directions printed off the Yale Fest's site and realized we were on the other side of the campus.

By the time we arrived at the milonga, it was already 12:30pm. We were really hoping to escape the NYC tango scene but was a little disappointed to see many of the dancers there were from NYC. Not sure why we were surprised, New Haven is not that far away. My first dance was with a student from Yale. We shifted our weights for a few seconds preparing for our first step. He then paused and he said, "let’s start and take a step to the right." Bizarre! Is he planning to give directions throughout our dance?? Everything just went downhill from there... I soon learned after our first song, he's only taken a few classes and this was his very first milonga. He had a sweet round face with large brown eyes, so I decided to suffer through a second song before thanking him for the dance. Our dear TP came to the rescue soon after. It was comforting to see him. He always has a warm smile and his enthusiasm for tango is quite contagious. We chatted a little bit and we shared a few tandas. He inspired us to check airfare first thing this morning for OUR next BsAs pilgrimage.

So Malena and I sat watching the scene for a while. After 30 minutes went by without an invitation, we decided it's probably not going to get better. We left the milonga at 2:30am and tried to find a local bar to have a few drinks but nothing was opened. We went back to the hotel and finished our left-over pizzas and champagne. While watching the history channel, we dozed off to sleep.

During brunch the next morning, we decided to take group classes again to get back into the mix of things; with tango and the people of tango. Perhaps, this is all part of our tango journey and we're just entering into the next phase. A dancer must decide at some point whether to invest in further education and become better dancers or to stop learning because they feel they have sufficient skills to enjoy an evening of social dancing. Well, I am ready for the challenge of becoming a beginner all over again. Bring it on...

Buenos Aires - Day 8 (El Fin)

2008-01-25T21:48:00.000-08:00

Unplanned last lesson with maestro first thing after we woke up. I wore sneakers and sweatpants for the first time in the history of my tango lessons. While one was having a lesson, the other packed. To save that precious time that was already racing... Then ready to go out for a nice lunch and some last minute shopping at the street market in Palermo on Plazoleta Cortazar.

We had caught a glimpse of a charming restaurant with a beautiful chandelier on the way back from Bar Uriarte in Palermo a few days ago and meant to go back, so we figured now might be a good time. But on the way there changed our minds on a whim and decided on Olson, as we never made it for brunch there on the weekend before. Amazing! The place was so nice, modern Scandinavian theme and food. We were seated on a very low and comfy leather couch in front of a Scandinavian open fireplace (not working on such a nice summer day, thankfully), which was perfect, as we were really tired from last night and needed to relax. I then spotted the bartender preparing this very soft green smoothie-looking drink. Since Olsen is known for its over 50 vodka selections, it was not hard to guess what was in it. But we had to have our champagne first and get into our usual giggly mood. Sure enough, we hadn't so much had a few sips each, when it started. We couldn't stop laughing. Again. Our cute waiter (they were ALL cute) tried his best to help with the food selection, but his looks were far better than his English, so we were still in the dark when we ordered - I decided on something with eggs and shrimp, and Eva chose some kind of chicken dish. But when the food came (by which time we were getting progressively merrier and more relaxed and were almost lying on the couch) - it not only had great presentation, but was absolutely delicious! Crispy potatoes, eggs and shrimp bruschetta (who thought this could taste so good?!), chicken milanese, chicken salad with walnuts, and fresh bagels. After this feast, it was time to try the green drink. Some back and forth with the waiter later (I was trying to explain that we want to try the bebida verde!), it came and let's just say it was so strong that it got both Eva and I pretty tipsy in no time! We started on our laughing kick again, and this time there was no stopping us. We let ourselves be in this wondrous oblivion for a while, savoring our last Buenos Aires moments...

We left Olsen and tried to find the market. Not easy. Try to sort out where you are going on a tiny map after champagne and green vodka drink... We couldn't really focus on the task at hand and kept walking in what we thought was the right direction. All of a sudden Spanish was pouring out of Eva, it must be true that everything you learn does come through at some point! She was naming whatever we saw on the way, including a homeless dog - not without a significant sense of revelation she exclaimed "Pero!!". We couldn't really walk, we were laughing so hard. We almost lost one of her flip-flops, twice. Then all of a sudden, we found ourselves in front of the chandelier restaurant - Bardot! Snapped a picture of the cross streets, why bother remember… We will definitely come next time. Wandered about a bit, then finally saw the market. We did pretty well for the 20 minutes we had left before we absolutely had to head back to the apartment to meet Eugenia and leave the keys.

We did the last bit of packing left and Eugenia came. She said “You tried our ice-cream, no?” No. We hadn’t gotten to that, there is only so much time in the day, you know... So she suggested we go get some from Persicco across the street to eat on the way to the airport. We had to! The best ice-cream in town. I ran over there while Eva was taking care of the last details with Eugenia. Little did I know what I was in for. This has got to be the biggest ice-cream shop/cafe I have seen. With countless flavors and unknown to me rituals. Some of which I was just about to learn. The hard way. Somehow I managed to pay for a quarto of helado and was then pointed in the direction of the counter where they prepare yor order. You take a number and wait for it to flash on a screen. Who said that ordering ice-cream would be easy? I patiently waited browsing at all the flavors listed (most of which I was clueless about) but was confident enough as I knew we wanted dulce de leche. Simple enough, you would think. The second I pronounced dulce de leche (I must have said it the Italian way ) the guy who was serving me looked at me with disbelief, then burst out laughing uncontrollably. He had to then go and tell the rest of the guys working there what he had just heard, by which time I was beet red with embarrassment and lost every hope that I will actually walk out of there with what I came for. So they had a good laugh and still giggling he started to ask me a series of progressively harder questions - nuts or no nuts, brownies or no brownies, more flavors, strawberry with cream or strawberry with water, cover or no cover, should he pack it with dry ice if I was going far, spoon, how many spoons? I wanted to scream 'Just give me the damn ice-cream and let me go!', but I couldn't so much as shake my head for a yes or no in response. I must have had the most bewildered look in history. He must have taken pity on me - on my way out I noticed he had actually given me a much bigger box that I had ordered. Lesson learned - I have to learn that language, there is no way around it. If nothing else was a motivation strong enough, that did it. I have got to be able to order some ice cream without being utterly embarrassed! Granted it's a ritual over there, but still!

Eva was already waiting in a cab in front of the building (poor thing had to lug down my enormous suitcase too), wondering what happened to me... Hugged Eugenia good bye and got in the car, holding the precious box of ice cream, starting to feel sadder by the minute. We rode in silence, eating dulce de leche con nueces, strawberry and lemon ice-cream as we were watching neighborhoods change on the way to the airport. Sad. Really.

We got there on time, unfortunately. As we were waiting in the check-in line, I turned to Eva and said, "I wonder why there isn't a milonga at the airport - in some small corner, while waiting for your flight, you could go for a last tanda..." Everyone else would of course have marvelled at how one can come up with something like this, but Eva simply looked at me and whispered, "I was just thinking that."

Buenos Aires - Day 7

2008-01-18T09:21:00.000-08:00

Cafe con leche and a bite for breakfast at our cafe across the street. A bite meaning dulce de leche tarta and a medialuna for me, two sandwiches for Eva. Off to CiF in Recoleta. Exciting. Not really expecting to buy yet more and more pairs of shoes, but we did, of course. Eight in total for the trip for me. This can't be normal. Eva was good, only four. Not counting the first four pairs she got on her previous trip only a few months ago. On the way out of the little alley where Cif is hidden, we decided to take pictures of Eva jumping in the air. Then twirling. We gathered a bit of a crowd from the surrounding shops, but hey, we don't go CiF shopping every day, plus we were in the mood. Happy happy pictures...

Next was Hotel Alvear for afternoon tea, but on the way there a lingerie shop caught our eye. An hour and a half and 6 lingerie sets between the two of us later, we strolled down Avenida Alvear. The hotel was delightfully elegant, with beautiful architecture and decoration. The classic tea service offered in L'Orangerie Restaurant consisted of kir royal (we needed our champagne, how else), followed by an exquisite selection of teas and endless courses of finger sandwiches, scones and miniature desserts. What a lovely afternoon... It was all about what we wanted out of life in that moment - tango shoes, lingerie, champagne and dulce de leche in various forms.

Lesson. We made a dinner reservations for 10pm at another brand new restaurant a block away from our apartment building, Francesca. It was their opening night. And, unfortunately, our last night in BsAs. It had a very modern and spacious look, at the same time the atmosphere was soft and airy. Sirloin and ribeye steaks. The maitre d' wanted to start us with one wine then bring a bottle of another kind, so when we explained we had to be at least somewhat sober to dance later, he introduced us to one of the waiters, who had allegedly been a tango performer in the past. He was known by Mel Gibson, although the resemblance wasn't striking. Cute though. We made tentative plans to see him later.

We had decided on two local milongas and La Viruta in the end. Damian took us to Las Mareados, a small, intimate milonga, thankfully not visited by tourists. The space was beautiful, with open windows letting the warm early summer air in, candles everywhere. A beautiful performance – a tango, then a dance with handkerchiefs called El Gato. Off to Villa Malcom for an hour. More of a practica environment, young people. La Viruta next. We were pretty tired at that point, but stayed for an hour or so, it was our last night after all. Serendipitously, Eva danced her last tanda with the old argentine guy with whom she danced her first tanda in BsAs here at La Viruta while Color Tango was playing 7 days ago. On the way out we bumped into Mel Gibson. Eva asked me if I wanted to stay for a little longer and dance with him, but at that point I was so tired that I had forgotten he was a performer and decided it was probably not going to be worth it, so we left. Ugh! I could have ended the night with a nice tanda. But, as every dedicated dancer is well aware of, if you feel you must call it a night after long hours of dancing, you are trully at the point of collapsing.

Last time to enjoy the early morning bird songs...

Tagging along

2008-01-14T16:04:00.001-08:00

We were tagged by Tango Pilgrim and Dazarin.

I am supposed to share 7 random and/or weird things about myself, tag 7 people at the end of my post (include links to their blogs.) then let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog. Well, considering we are joining so late in this blogger-tag-game and most of the bloggers have already been tagged 2 or 3 times, I'm going to skip this part.

1) I can moonwalk. (yep... really.)

2) I hate scallops because they remind me of the little round white pencil erasers I had in kindergarden.

3) I can sing and act on the stage but never felt comfortable making an impromptu speech.

4) When I moved a few years ago, I decided not to get cable TV and I still don't miss it.

5) I used to flip my eyelids to scare my sister when we were kids.

(I'll spare you that photo.)

6) After I sang for my college commencement ceremony at Radio City Music Hall, I received a letter from the president of my college, telling me I should consider a career in music instead of fashion. (Till this day, I still wonder if I'd made the right choice.)

7) When I was a teenager, I used to carry a bright red condom in my wallet because it made me feel grown up. That same condom stayed in my wallet for several years until one morning. While I was waiting on line at the subway station during rush hour (this is before they invented metrocard machine), the bright red condom fell out of my wallet and onto the freshly washed floor. I thought of picking it up but didn't want to confirm ownership of the damn thing. I was also running too late to get on another line, so I decided to stay and endured 10 minutes of bright red embarrassment while I listened to the people laughing behind me.

From Tango to Fencing

2008-01-09T20:21:00.000-08:00

We've been trying to cope with our post BsAs tango withdrawal. We figured maybe we just needed a little temporary distraction from tango. So Malena decided she would give fencing a try, while I would take up ballroom dancing again. I thought fencing was a great idea for Malena, because I could totally picture her as Catherine Zeta Zones in that fencing scene in the movie The Mask of Zorro. So this was the week she was going to start this new craze. Malena sent me the link for the fencing school. I told her it looked like fun. "Class starts tonight. Do you have plans tonight? Would you like to come with?" she asked. "Hmm, Moi? Fencing? " I thought. "I suppose I could go since I didn't have any plans, plus I'd do anything to work off the few extra pounds from the holidays." So off we went, from tango to fencing.

We walked into the class. Almost everyone was in full gear, white fencing jackets, knee length fencing pants, long black socks and dark sneakers. I was fascinated by the clothing. One guy actually had his pants custom-made to look exactly like the ones worn in the 16th century. He was an obvious fencing addict with very intense eyebrows. He must have thought I was a nutjob because 65% of my questions were about clothing and not fencing.

The fencing academy operates out of a great little studio near Chinatown. I was told by the maestro that no street shoes were allowed because the space is a dance studio during the daytime. "Should I wear my tango shoes then?" I asked with a straight face. He didn’t answer me but gave me one of those looks, "Did she really just ask me that? was she being funny or is she just plain stupid?" It was fine because Malena got it and immediately laughed out loud.

Maestro went over the proper attire for students in a fencing class. There are strict color rules. Rule #1. The maestro, and ONLY the maestro, is allowed to wear all black. The would-be-masters-in-training wear white jackets and black pants. All other fencers can wear any combination of white, black and grey. Newbies can wear any gym clothes (provided it's not all black). I luckily wore a grayish t-shirt and black gym pants, while Malena?... she wore head to toe all black. "I am sorry. I didn't know." she said to the maestro with a little smile.

There were so many styles. This academy specializes in Italian, French and Spanish. We were shown the following weapons, the Foil (technically not a weapon but a practice tool), the Epee and the Sabre. They all looked the same to me, except for the different blade lengths and size of the handle guard thingy. There are names for every part of the sword, even the sections along the length of the blade had a different names. It was overwhelming and intimidating; we were beginners all over again. I felt like a sponge trying to soak up everything thrown at me. Some students were very helpful, while others ignored us. I guess they figured we probably wouldn't come back. Everyone from different levels worked together in the same space. We started with a few different en garde positions. There were lots of turnouts and pliés, very much like ballet, except you don't lead with your toes. It definitely brought back memories of the couple of years I spent in ballet school back when I was in high school.

On our way out, we chatted with a ballet dancer who's been fencing for 14 months. She gave us the low down on what to expect as a beginner and told us about how much fencing has reshaped her body. Aside from the workouts she received with her already strong dancer legs, she couldn't believe how ripped her arms and upper body got. She even saw results after just one month. Those were the key words I needed to hear. I hate the gym and have been looking for an interesting sport to help tone up abit. Each class is three hours long and doing that twice a week? My body better show some changes. She also advised us to take the advil before the soreness starts. I must admit I'm really looking forward to the pain. Bring it on baby!

We promised to give ourselves one month to explore this further. It's only been one lesson and I am already loving it. I like the fact that fencing is just as much a mental game as it is a physical challenge. The art of it involves learning how to strategize your attacks, as well as learning how to read and understand your opponents. It's the perfect combination of chess, geometry and dance?... all wrapped up in one very sexy cool outfit!

* Buenos Aires to be continued...

Buenos Aires - Day 6

2008-01-09T09:42:00.001-08:00

We got up late today. We were hungry and wanted something good, so we went to Novecento in our hood. It was nice to have good Italian for a change. Unfortunately, we were running late for our tango lesson and had to inhale our food. Malena wanted to hit a mall to do some shopping before we leave BsAs, so we decided to go to the Alto Palermo mall. We were tired and cranky and didn’t find anything worth buying. How do the portenos afford these prices??? We left and went straight to our local patisserie for some café con leche and sandwiches. We also picked up a good selection of cakes and alfahores to go with our champagne. We rushed back to the apt for our massages. Sebastian was an hour late today because.... he forgot. I was annoyed but was glad he did show up…hoping he would iron out our crankiness. He started to tell us in Spanish … something about his job with a priest and an architect. Trying to sound like I actually understood what he was saying, "Ahhh... you massaged a minister and an architect? You must be mucho cansado!" He gave me a puzzled look then started waving his hands, "No, no, no masaje el ministro." We all broke out in laughter; it was the release we needed. We later figured out that he has several jobs. He is a Nurse Assistant at a hospital, also freelances for a minister, helping with local contractors for the construction of a new church and he is an aspiring painter.

Dear "Massage Therapists",

Please refrain from telling your clients the following, especially right before their massages.

a) You are late because you simply forgot.
b) You have multiple dayjobs and giving massages is what you do to earn a few extra bucks.
c) You are exhausted because you just came from your multiple dayjobs.

(Pop!) We needed to open a bottle of champagne before heading out. We're still tired but a little less cranky now. Can’t believe we'll be leaving this beautiful city in just two days. We decided to check out the "New" milonga Eduardo(the taxi dancer) mentioned, as he promised to meet us there so he could give me my video. I was under the impression we were going to the grand opening of a new milonga. We soon realized "new" meant "alternative" because the first thing we noticed when we walked in was two men dancing together. As we surveyed the room, we saw many more same sex couples. It was hard to tell at first because everyone looked so androgynous. Yes, it was different but people seemed very relaxed and were having a good time. It was beautiful to watch, especially two men dancing to a slow tango.

Eduardo spotted us right away when we arrived. He came by and we made some small talk. I didn't want to appear rude so I waited a little while before bringing up the subject of the video. When I finally asked him, he casual said to me... "Ohh, I forgot to bring it but I am sure I'll see you both again before you leave." It was so blatantly obvious to me right then that this slime was using the video as bait, just so he could see Malena again. Mind you he runs his taxi dancing business with his girlfriend and just a few nights ago, he told me they were still happily together. Maybe it was obvious how annoyed I was because he didn’t ask me to dance once. Eduardo danced several tandas with Malena and tried to work his "I'm a teacher, let me show you a few things" magic on her, but it didn't quite work this time, as she was fully aware of his unwelcomed advances.

We stayed a little while and danced to nuevo tango with a few tangueros we met from the previous nights. We left there a little upset that we were misled but on the other hand we were glad we had the chance to experience this milonga. We watched a father dancing with his little baby girl. It was adorable to see but babies should really be sleeping at 3am, not dancing to loud music at a milonga. We learned from our maestro that many tangueros there use their babies to impress the tourists.

Ugh! The hell with you Eduardo and your dumb video!

Buenos Aires - Day 5

2007-12-27T11:45:00.000-08:00

We slept in late and didn’t get out to lunch till 3:00pm. Decided to head over to San Telmo today. We wanted to go to Abril, but couldn’t find it for the longest time… Then when finally there, Eva remembered that she had already tried the place and food was soso. So we headed over to the other restaurant we had in mind, Nacional. It was a dump, clearly not the La Nacional we were thinking of. Walked around and found a parilla place. We went in and sat dawn half-heartledly - it felt like something was off about this place, we weren't feeling it. Well, maybe not every single food outing has to be magical. It was already 3:30pm, kind of late to be searching for yet another restaurant and we were cranky as hell. Decisions, decisions... good thing Eva realized just then that she'd had dinner there too back in May and it was the worst parilla ever (if a parilla in BsAs can be bad). Pheeew, relieved to have a good reason to be picky, we got up and left.

After walking a number of blocks in the area, we found it. On the corner of Avenida Defensa, there was Chez - the most delightful French restaurant. Although it was empty when we peeped inside, there was just something about the place that called out to us - nothing is accidental, not even small things like that. We found Chez or it found us and we were about to make a memory that will be with us each time we think of Buenos Aires. Just a simple, absolutely magical afternoon. You know how sometimes everything aligns, your senses are heightened and the best of feelings are just magically frozen in that particular place and time? Where something stirs you up inside and gives you a whole new perspective on things. Yes, it was just a lunch, but nevertheless, one of our best times in BsAs. We felt as if we had stopped time for a little while, capturing a fleeting moment.

The restaurant's decor was beautiful, with the littlest touches completing the warm french country ambiance. A vase of overflowing bouquet of calla lilies sitting on top of a large wooden antique chest in the center of the room. The randomly placed items like an antique tray of perfectly golden freshly baked pound cake and the beautifully bound french cookbooks.

The long windows were open letting the fresh early summer air in and the sun rays were courting the fresh flowers in the vase and our smiling faces. As we were looking at the menu, already having ordered our champagne, we were wondering why we haven't read about this heavenly place before. As it turned out, the restaurant had only been open for 10 days! Food was out of this world, French Nuevo with local influences, of course. We still haven't forgotten the taste of this divine meal - from the pate, salmon tartar and the most delicious beef loin with pimiento sauce to the dreamy dessert, all this accompanied by plenty of champagne... Roll your eyes as you may, but the little things in life are what matters most. Makes one celebrate life - with all senses and an open soul. We counted our blessings as we completed our meal with Belgium waffles topped with dulce de leche. We were told we had to wait 15 minutes for them to prepare it. When the dessert arrived, we could tell the cream was freshly whipped and the waffles just toasted and generously topped with the best dulce de leche we've had in BsAs. We made funny noises while devouring our little piece of heaven, while the wait staff watched in silence, witnessing our little ritual. While we were waiting for our coffee to arrive, I sneaked outside to smoke a cigarette and while leaning against the front door of Chez, the sun shining on me and making it difficult to see much around me, I closed my eyes and just let myself be. There was no yesterday, no tomorrow... just now, on a small street corner in San Telmo on an early Argentine summer afternoon.

After Chez we leisurely walked the streets of San Telmo and stumbled upon this charming antique shop and bought a few beautiful antique cocktail rings. We then headed back for our lesson at 7pm, then back to the apartment to change. It was a hard time getting dressed for the evening, nothing seemed to fit right after our huge decadent meal... Eva even said "Well, I don't think I fit into anything tonight, I might have to stay in!" After much debate, we decided to go out anyway, even with our little extra dulce du leche curves. You can imagine the surprise on my face, when I heard a man in a suit making loud smooching sounds at me while I was dancing at La Confiteria Ideal. I swear he looked like a monkey in a mating ritual. Eva was supposed to meet Eduardo (the taxi dancer) there to get her video, but we never connected. Maybe it's because we hadn't set an official "appointment".

The place was full of tourists, it wasn't a good milonga night. At the entrance I saw an immaculately dressed older gentlemen, standing next to the door and surveying the place with a stern look, so taking him for the maitre d' or some sort of organizer for the night, I asked for a table. "Yo soy bailarin, senorita!", he said to me stunned that I had talked him for a member of the wait staff. Ok, one dancer lost for the cause already, there was no way he was going to ask me to dance later.

It turned out to be a nice night after all, despite all the tourists, and the relatively slow night for Ideal. Eva bumped into Damian, who was the first person to cabeceo her at Practica X in May. Funny meeting him so randomly again. They danced most of the night together. She was happy that he could see what a beautiful dancer she has become. We were pleased to see our dear Tango Pilgrim. Funny to finally meet so far away from home, yet given our shared passion, not so strange at all. We danced a song together and I enjoyed his warm embrace. After that Carlos, my local bailarin mistaken for a waiter, started to look in my direction. It couldn't be, not possible, this was a major faux pas after all. He gave me the cabeceo! I was happy to accept to make it up to him. As he was taking me in his arms, he was frank enough to say that he invited me to dance because he had just watched me and in his opinion I was a 'linda bailarina'. He was such a lovely dancer. We kept dancing throughout the whole evening. Never two tandas in a row - he would escort me back to the table, and after a tanda or two he would look for me and cabeceo again. The cutest thing. Carlos said he was happy I was there, as there were not many good bailarinas, only tourists that night at Ideal. Ironical - it was my fifth night in BsAs. Eva kept dancing with Damian, they had a great time too. He was very nice and polite to us.

Turns out you may be at the absolutely wrong place according to the BsAs milonga schedule of the ones in the know and still have a wonderful time... It's really circumstantial. And we were at Confiterial Ideal after all - the venue itself was enough to make our evening. There was a dance floor, the beautiful Ideal hall around us and tango music - what else does one need (yes, a good partner, but we were lucky in that respect too - we didn't found many, only a couple, but they surely counted). And as the night was slow and the floor was pretty empty after the performance, as the milonga was winding down it was just Eva and Damian, then Carlos and I on the dance floor of Confiterial Ideal. It was almost surreal - we had the place to ourselves. In the end, as the waiters were starting to clean up and the last song came on, one of the performers from earlier, a Venezuelan guy, asked me to dance. I sensed a smell of coffee and cigarettes as he held me tight against his chest. Somehow it was enchanting, his breath carried the night's mood... He danced beautifully, his lead was so confident, mmmmm...

As usual, the birds cheered for our home coming...

Buenos Aires - Day 4

2007-12-17T18:28:00.000-08:00

The 22 hour marathon, 6 glasses of champagne each.

Lesson at 12. Eva worked on boleos. Whipping back boleo, she kicked maestro several times. She apologized and he said jokingly, “If you’re kicking me, then you’re doing it right. No worries, I’ll bring knee pads for lesson in ganchos tomorrow.” Mine was uneventful in that respect, I was good to maestro, no kicking. By the time we left the apartment it was 3pm… We never figured out how time flew by. No sooner would we wake up, and it would be time to get ready for milongas! And that's while on vacation!

We headed for Bar Uriarte in Palermo Viejo, Eva remembered it to be a great place to eat. It had a modern atmosphere, elegant, spacious. Then we saw the garden! Green and luscious with plants enveloping the walls around, it was like a little oasis, so relaxing, yet refreshing. What would be the perfect thing to go with this?? Champagne, of course.

As soon as we ordered, Eva started to make signs at me, discreetly pointing to someone sitting behind me. I couldn't turn around right away, but then I heard her whisper "William Dafoe!" and I had to see for myself. Sure enough, there he was - one of our favorite actors of all times and one of these men that seem to get hotter with age. Sitting casually at a table in the corner in the company of an unassuming looking girl, almost surely Argentine, who was feeding him spaghetti across the table and lovingly caressing his face. Gorgeous blue eyes and the sexiest smile... We tried our best not to stare and fought all urges to ask for a photo. He gave us a big smile as we walked past him on the way out. That made our day, at least so far! What also made us very happy was the food - it was excellent, as any other dining experience so far! Very tasty salads - mixed greens with beef and caramelized walnuts and dulce de leche crème brulee for dessert! Yummy!!! It doesn't get better than that! Until our next food indulgence that is.

As we were sitting at the restaurant and enjoying every second of it, we both realized we had only been here for three days and had not once thought of home and the life we used to live there. We had so easily adapted to the porteno life of dinning after 10pm, beginning to dance only after midnight and getting home as the birds start to chirp “Good Morning!”... If only this could be our normal lifestyle! Then we also realized how lucky we were to have found each other - we had similar tastes in everything - there wasn't a second during our trip when one would want to do something different from the other or would rather enjoy a different experience in whatever we were doing. We were so well tuned into each other's whims and desires... Here in turn is what I want to say to my dearest Eva - thank you, thank you, thank you! For the gift of sharing these amazing days and for being so wonderful, always!

After our lunch we shopped the boutiques in Palermo Viejo; yummy lingerie at Beleidades and Amor Latino. Wanted to get manicure and pedicure, but realized we ran out of time when our cute masseuse called and said he had already arrived at our place. On the way home, we stopped at the little wine store right across from our apartment building. Two bottles of champagne. One chilled and one to be chilled for later. Champagne in hand, we walked over to Sebastian waiting with his massage table. “Hola Sebastian… we are so ready for you!” As he was setting up, he proudly showed us a new massage oil he had brought. It had aromatic ingredients of some sort and real fruit (that you could actually see!) "I made myself!" he declared with a glaring smile. Oh boy... We looked at each other, but decided to be nice and go with it... It wasn't going to kill us after all, or let's hope not... That day's massage was actually particularly relaxing. Maybe the crazy dancing schedule was catching up to us and we were feeling a bit more tired, but whatever he did, he took this all off our shoulders (and feet - he did a great foot massage, thank you Sebastian!), we felt like brand new. I sat out on the balcony while Eva was showering, still in my towel, sipping champagne and listening to the early night city sounds (early night meaning 10-11pm) - the air was full of excitement and bliss. Time had stopped. In what world would we begin getting ready for dinner at that time of night without a care in the world, other than what to wear that night and which pair of shoes will go perfectly with it??

We had planned on dinner in Puerto Madero, but it grew late, so we decided to go straight to milonga. Tonight's choices: El Beso, Porteno Y Bailarin, La Viruta, Practica X. We ended up going to El Beso first. There was a beautiful lady with long black hair who sat at our table, who seemed to know everyone at the milonga. We were still not completely at ease with the cabeceo ritual. Just when I thought a man across from us gave me the cabeceo, it turned out it was for the woman at our table. Don't ask me how I found out. Eva did say it was a bad idea for us to stay at that table with her, so after I felt as embarrassed as could be, we decided to escape this spotlight and sat at the bar.

We got our champagne and quickly got into our usual bubbly mood. It seems that draws people like a magnet because in no time we were literally surrounded by men hovering about and competing who will catch our glance first. I first danced with this porteno who, as soon as he found out we had only been there for a few days, decided to act as a teacher (you know the type - yes, they are everywhere!). Ok, I heard what he had to say. But then I put an end to this and danced with a few lovely dancers. So did Eva. We didn't sit for a second. I will remember El Beso by what a very nice gentleman told me there, something that I had heard many times before, but that resonated with me on a whole different level that night - tango is not about steps, it's about the embrace, the emotion that two people share at that moment.

As I was dancing with different people, I was constantly aware of this handsome guy's stare. Dark skinned, slender, with hair pulled back in a long braid, incredibly intense eyes. By the manner he was sitting and scrutinizing the floor with a couple of other men, it seemed that he was a big shot dancer. I was drawn by his eyes - we didn't lose each other's sight for a long time. Wherever I was on the dance floor, I knew his eyes were following me. It was a beautiful thing... How powerful this play was, maybe more powerful than a direct interaction could have been... Maybe. I kept thinking what it would be like to dance with him. Well, I didn't find out. That tango god never came down from his pedestal to dance with a mortal. And I wasn't willing to hang out there forever to find out if that was going to happen.

We headed off to Porteno y Bailarin with a bunch of other people from the El Beso crowd, we were told Alberto Podesta, the living legend, was singing that night! The place was packed, of course. We fought the crowd and headed to the back salon to get a table. We were starving at that point as we had skipped dinner. It happened so that Alberto Podesta had just finished his set and headed over toward us as his table with his whole entourage was right next to ours. People followed to get photos and autographs. Eva happened to be right in his path. He looked at her and smiled and seemed to be expecting some words of praise. Eva didn't really know what to say or rather how to say it, so she kept saying Gracias! Gracias! He gave her a kiss on the cheek and said "No, gracias a vos!". I snapped a photo of them together, beautiful!

We ordered a few empanadas without having great expectations, but they turned out to be the best empanadas we had tasted so far! We had to scarf them down as men were gathering around our table - it was funny, we didn't even have time to eat. It was a great night of dancing. While Eva was dancing with a porteno, who was shorter than her (unusual being the petite girl that she is), she looked over and saw Eduardo, the taxi dancer she hired on her last trip. They greeted each other with a kiss and he told her he had the video that a whole tv crew from Germany took of them dancing then. He said he would call her to make arrangements the next day. She wasn't sure she even wanted to see her dancing back from those beginner days.

Eduardo danced a few tandas with Eva. He then asked me to dance. I was becoming slowly aware that the guy was putting the moves on me! He knew Eva was not interested in hiring him any more or going any further with their acquaintance. I was the next prey. He showed everything he was capable of on the dance floor. Since he was a really good dancer, I didn't mind going along for a while. It was fun, although challenging too, to follow all his fancy moves and steps. This was actually the only time that I did the whole spectrum of "performance tango steps"; we even gathered a crowd. The fact remains this was not the tango you would normally see at the milongas in BsAs, and thank God - as much as i was fascinated by that as a beginner, I now grew to know what tango is really about. So when he decided to use the heat of the moment to kiss me as we were dancing, I was pretty much done. What was he thinking?! After all, that initial blind beginner fascination was long gone. A real vulnerable time for every tanguera, where you're easily seduced by the skills of a good leader. Thank God! Slimy Eduardo!

Eva's pilot/Greek God found her again, it was cute to watch that scene all over again. Eva and I danced some more with a few locals but the night was winding down. We left at 4:30am. Back home, early morning bird songs in the background...

Buenos Aires - Day 3

2007-12-14T11:34:00.001-08:00

Our plan today, Comme Il Faut then afternoon tea at the Palace Alvear Hotel. We've been so looking forward to this day. I even had dreams of sitting on the plush seat in the showroom waiting for the stacks of brand new shoes to float out of their stock room. Finally the day has come, where our feet will meet their new lovers.

When we arrived at the showroom, there were several people trying on shoes. We took our seats and then two sales ladies came out to ask for our sizes. Malena's stack of shoes came out first. I had fun sorting through her selections. Finally, my stack came out 5 minutes later. I fell in love instantly when she opened the first box. Pretty black lace on pink satin. I don't normally wear pink shoes but this was a very wearable nude pink and they just screamed Agent Provocator when I put them on. Hmmm, how practical! I looked through the rest of the boxes but nothing jumped out at me. A couple of traditional black strappies and some flashy neon colors in patent leather. I asked what else she had hiding in the back room. She disappeared for a few minutes and returned empty handed. "Sorry, we do not have in your size." Hmmm, she must be lying! How is it possible they only had 6 pairs of shoes in my size instock?? I asked her to please check again. "Sorry, your size is all sold out. You can come Friday... we'll have more shoes Friday." Malena ended up buying two pairs she wasn't totally in love with. Needless to say, we left there a slightly disappointed.

I tried to cheer Malena up and asked if she was ready for our fabulous afternoon tea. "Yeah, I guess so.", She replied with a pout. It’s funny but I knew what that meant. I hailed a taxi and said, "Come on, we're not done yet." Neo Tango wasn't that far away and their selection hadn’t really changed much since I was there in May. Their styles were trendy and I still don’t feel the construction is as sturdy as CIFs. Malena half heartedly bought one pair. We left the store even more disappointed. How can this be??? We flew eleven hours for some kickass one of a kind tango shoes! This can't be!!! Then it hit me... Raquel shoes! A new brand designed by a tanguera from the south of France. I remembered they'd just opened their first store in BsAs. I flipped through our B.A. Tango magazine....Viola! there it was. I hailed another taxi.... "Arenales 1974, por favore."

When we arrived at the showroom on the third floor, we were greeted by a lovely older gentleman, who turned out to be Raquel's husband. He gave us the lowdown on how Raquel started her business and talked about the wonderful milongas they host weekly in their home in the south of France. The styles were stylish and sophisticated but definitely not flashy. I was surprised by the comfort of these shoes... my feet didn't teeter one bit. I was told that each new style is "milonga tested" by Raquel herself. When I was trying on a pair of red suede mary janes, he took me by the hand and we danced in the showroom. He was so delightful that he made me forget where I was. He finally had to say, "Hmm... you might want to look in the mirror to see the shoes while we're dancing." But of course! Why else would we be dancing in a shoe store with no music at 4:30 in the afternoon???

We got so carried away buying shoes that we were 30 minutes late for our tango lessons. Maestro was annoyed because he had to be somewhere. We walked in like two guilty little kids... looking down while clutching our bags of goodies. We had to break open our new shoes because we didn't have enough time to stop by the apartment. Maestro was kidding around and said, "Let me wear my fuzzy slippers, so I don't ruin your new shoes." It started out as a joke but, as it turned out, the fuzzy slippers didn't really interfere with our lessons, so we let them stay. They were a pair of fuzzy monster feet, black with red claws. My favorite part was when he lead the sandwich. It was mighty warm and toasty!

Since we skipped afternoon tea, we were both starving and super cranky. After our lessons, we dropped off the bags at the apartment then ran to a local restaurant in Las Canitas, Campo Bravo. That is where we inhaled our first real parilla dinner with a bottle of red. We tried to figure out what part of the cow each piece of meat came from but by that point we were just too hungry to care. Must admit the mystery meat was delicioso! We topped off dinner with a nice plate of crepe con dulce de luce.

Tonight's destination; Saloon Canning. We hopped into taxi and noticed our taxi driver right away... he had the most beautiful green eyes. It turns out he also tangos and said he might stop by after his shift. We arrived at 12:00am and the place was packed. We spotted Ney Melo, Robin Thomas, Rebecca Shulman, many tourists from New York. Gabriel Misse performed that night. When we sat down, the guy from London, whom we had empanadas with the night before, approached our table. He went straight for Malena. He asked her if she is from Russia because she has those distant eyes... "ohh so present but yet so far far away." Malena was speechless and I wanted to burst out laughing. They left the table to dance while I ordered our champagne. A couple of guys that I danced with from last night came by and kissed me hello on the cheek. I love being a part of this tango community. You share a few dances and some idle chats with a total stranger then you're automatically friends.

It was a lay back night. We danced a few tandas and chilled with our champagne. At about 3:00am, we watched our cute taxi driver stroll in. He said hello to someone then surveyed the room but then turned around and left. We would have said hello but we felt it was best to leave early, since we have our lessons at noon the next day. Got into bed completely restless ... hmmm, Ambien to the rescue!

Buenos Aires - Day 2

2007-12-10T20:20:00.000-08:00

We woke up at 11:45am, not by choice anyway. Lesson at our apartment at 12pm. Maybe not the best of ideas. Note to self; Lack of sleep = Trouble walking and thinking at the same time. Especially not good for working on embellishments. Pivot with decoration... pivot without decoration... change direction. Again, walk... now with decoration in the front... then in the back, front, back... Heeeeeelp!!!! This was one of those times when I really didn't think very highly of my capacities, dancing or mental. My mind was spinning. Maestro was probably thinking, "What in the world did I get stuck with teaching??!" Although he was very reassuring and sweet..."Well, it happens, we all have these days, it's normal but it sinks in even without you knowing it." Yeaaah, right! Turns out Eva had the same experience. Well, now we know that in BsAs noon is early early morning for us.

While Eva was having her lesson, I ran across the street and got us cafe con leche y cuatro medialunas... para llevar! (Spanish rapidly improving!) This will hold us over until we get to Recoleta. We wandered about the market at Plaza Francia. Got a set of beautiful leather coasters. Only second day here and we are already shopping. Nice! In the middle of our stroll, we realized we needed more cash, as markets don't take credit cards, at least not yet. We were told there was an ATM right around the corner. Hmm, which corner?? We saw a security guy in front of the building. "Donde esta el cajero automatico?", said Eva (did I mention her Spanish was well above mine, and sounded so cute!). He didn't speak a word of English but spoke español muy rápido, which did not help at all - we were completely bewildered. He then decided to take matters into his own hands and this was the beginning of our being escorted throughout the neighbourhood to three ATMs; all non-working. Cajero Autmatico – no denero x 3. He patiently guarded us while we both tried inserting our bank cards into each machine. In the meantime, he began to make attempts to get Eva's number (duh, why else would he be walking around Recoleta escorting two foreigners to no end!). She played stupid and said, "No entiendo." But when he made it so clear that everyone in our surrounding got it, she finally said "No hay telephono, lo siento!", smiling widely at him. Anyway, the fourth ATM was our lucky charm (never rely on getting money from an ATM on a Sunday). We bid him goodbye and decided we were exhausted enough to sit down for a drink and a bite to eat.

We strolled into the first restaurant that looked appealing, actually a very cute place! What do you know, there is a happy hour in BsAs too! We decided on champagne and ordered a few appetizers. Delicioso! Mediterranean bruschetta, chicken kebab of some sort with peppers and a yummy sauce and fried cheesy potato things. We were tired, so the champagne kicked in pretty quickly. We started giggling and got progressively happier by the minute. This is when it was decided - champagne for the rest of the trip! We wanted to keep the bubbly mood going. Well, no problems there.

We hopped into a cab in an excellent mood - so relaxed, mellow, and smiling! The fact that we were far away from everything that had to do with our everyday lives, in a beautiful country where you could dance tango any time of the day, was sinking in and beginning to exhilarate us. There was a silent pact between us to enjoy this for all it was and to fully immerse ourselves in the moment. Everything else but now was becoming a blur. If I have to describe a perfect state of well-being, this was it! So since we were already all set with a sim card and could communicate with the world, on our way home we got a call from a Sebastian, one of the massage guys. We didn't remember at this point who was who anymore - was it the Sebastian with a massage table or the one without. I hear Eva picking up the phone: Hola, Sebastian! You are in front of the building? Now? Oh, we'll be right there!" How was it 18:30 pm already?? She hangs up the phone and I asked the only question on my mind at that minute, "Did he bring a table?" Ok, that started a new giggling fit and we could hardly breathe when we got out of the taxi. It was impossible to keep a straight face at the sight of him and for the next couple of hours for that matter.

OK... not as cute as his picture, but he was so sweet! Ingles no muy buen, so that made things even funnier. Try to explain to a masseuse how you like your massage with no language in common and post two glasses of afternoon champagne was just plain ludicrous! So Sebastian did have a table after all and he started setting up in the living room. He then turned to Eva, asked her something, motioning washing hands and washing arms. She looked at him amazed: "Do you want to shower?!". At the sound of that, I burst out laughing uncontrollably and ran into the kitchen not being able put any sort of remotely serious look on my face. The guy got utterly embarrassed and said something to the effect of "Well, if you want me to..." Turns out he was asking for the bathroom to wash his hands. All three of us just couldn't stop laughing from there on. Even well into Eva's massage, she was still giggling on the table while Sebastian kept repeating the word 'shower' and was trying to explain that misunderstandings happen a lot during first sessions. He also practiced Reiki and kept saying to Eva in broken English "Your head very strong, your heart very relaxed." She wasn't entirely sure what that meant. I was upstairs on the balcony having a cigarette while still not being able to stop laughing myself. It had been awhile since my stomach hurt from laughing. The massages were great nevertheless. They do wonders especially when you have to get ready for another marathon on your feet. Off for 2 hour nap before dinner and milonga.

Porteno Y Bailarin tonight. It turned out to be our favorite place. We were a bit nervous as this clearly wasn't a place like La Viruta - here the cabeceo seemed to be in full play. No sooner were we seated (after some back and forth with the guy in charge, he was so nice to us!), Eva was invited to dance. I followed, but didn't have great luck. I realized there are bad dancers in Argentina too! Thankfully, much fewer and farther between. I survived the first tanda and just when I thought no one will ever ask me to dance again, this old old man came and motioned me in the quieter back room. I followed while realizing that he was at least ninety, if not a hundred years old (I am quite serious). It was one of the most beautiful and authentic tandas I have ever had. He was tiny, much shorter than me, shaky, and even though his shirt was scuffed up at the collar edges, he was wearing a suit and a hat and looked very presentable! And, most importantly, so full of life! We must have made an interesting couple - people were looking at us and smiling. It was incredible! In the meantime Eva was dancing with a 6'4" Greek pilot and the tiny thing that she is, it looked like she was dancing with Daddy! She was reaching high for his shoulders and he was carrying her around like a feather. She asked him in between songs if he's ever had any trouble fitting into the cockpit. Perfectly reasonable question.

As the night progressed we got a much better table, closer to the dance floor. The table next to us was occupied by a big crowd - Javier Rodrigues, Andrea Misse, and a bunch of other people (among which there was, as Eva put it, a hot hot hot hot guy!) were celebrating Gabriel Misse's birthday. What are the chances of that happening! It was surreal. You go to a random milonga and get to hang out at the same place with some of the best dancers there are! Just like that. Then we saw Gabriel's birthday dance. All the girls in that big group danced tango like it was nothing. In their casual shoes and clothes, but my God, they looked like they were born dancing!

It was a good night, with great dancers. Towards the end we both danced with this gentleman from London. Interesting character. Architect, working out of Buenos Aires for two months out of the year. And dancing every night of course. Where do we sign up for that, I would like to know???
The three of us left together around 4:30 am and found a little place nearby where we sat down for a quick round of empanadas.

When we got home the birds were already out and about. Chirping away, kind of loud actually! I don't think I have known another place where you could hear the birds like that... How do you fall asleep with this going on?! It was something we would have had to get used to.

Buenos Aires - Day 1

2007-12-08T05:54:00.000-08:00

Our trip to Buenos Aires was one of the best vacations I've ever taken.

Here're my top 5 reasons.

1) I had the best travel partner ever....

Dear Darling Malena, thank you for being you. You're one of those people who have no idea just how beautiful they are. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. I'm so thankful that tango has brought us together. We must book our next BsAs trip soon but I have only one request... can you please lighten up on the luggage next time??

2) No schedules (except for tango lessons and massages). It was all about me, me, me... without an ounce of guilt. For one week, we lived as if life didn't exist outside of BsAs.

3) No boys... and kept flirting to a minimal. (wink)

4) We had at least one good belly laugh per day.

5) Our days were filled with champagne & dulce de leche and our nights, champagne and tango.

Day 1

Stepped outside the airport and felt a chill in the air. Damn, we only packed summer clothes! Ok, sleeping on the plane just plain sucks... have neck cramps and feel puffy all over from the 11 hour flight. We arrived at our ultra girly duplex apartment in Las Canitas and met Eugenia, the rental manager. She was so sweet and wonderful. She even offered to help us get the three items we so desperately needed (a sim card for my cellphone, a hair dryer, and an adaptor).

The apartment. Antique white and pale lilac walls, each rooms tastefully decorated with a posh mix of antique furniture and modern touches. We stepped outside our balcony (one on each floor) and heard the birds chirping away. Realizing our first tango lesson was in just 3 hours, we decided to get some lunch at the corner restaurant. Ahhh! Our first cup of cafe con leche and jamon y queso sandwiches.

Our first lesson. We had initially wanted to take privates all week with Geraldine but at the last minute decided to spend the money on expanding our tango shoe collection instead. So we opted to go with someone less well known but came highly recommended to us by several tango friends. He was a delight and we spent our first lesson getting to know each other and talked about what we wanted to work on for the week. Neither Malena or I like to get too technical when it comes to tango. We are not one of those people who takes notes and breakdown every move mathematically. We'd rather not rationalize too much but spend the time repeating the right movements and letting it sink into our muscle memory. Before we left him, we ask if he could help us make a phone call to our masseuse, whom didn't speak a word of english. Several weeks back, we found an ad for a masseuse name Sebastian on Craiglist. I responded to the ad but didn’t get a response. The next day I noticed another ad with the same name. Thinking it was the same person, Ms Smartypants decided to try writing again, but this time I send it to both email addresses from the two ads. Later that day, I received two different responses in Spanish with references and contact numbers. It didn't occur to me that they were from two different people till the day we were leaving. I received an email from one of the Sebastians, this time in english (w/ help from a friend), questioning the other email address. This started a battle between the two sebastians. One said the other was on his tail trying to steal his clients, while the other one accused him of being an unqualified masseuse because he doesn’t even own a massage table. Malena and I had a discussion and decided to go with Sebastian #2, the one without qualifications and massage table. Why? because we saw his photo and he is hot. (wink)

After our lesson, we decided to get a small bite before getting ready for our first milonga. Pizza and empanadas. We went to the pizzaria downstairs from the apt. I walked up to the counter and said, "Cuatro empanadas con carne, Una pizza y una pizza napoli, por favor." The bill came out to 20+pesos. We paid it and started to wonder why pizza was so expensive in BsAs. 5 minutes later, we decided to check the menu and realized he thought we'd wanted one pizza pie each. It took us 15 minutes to explain we only wanted 1 slice of pizza and 2 small empanadas each. The guy behind the counter gave us back our change and we left there with 3 slices and 4 empanadas. Ok... not bad for our first attempt. We picked up a bottle of red on the way home. Pizza y empanadas con vino rojo para cena. Malena giggled while she ate her empanada and said, "These things are good!" Apparently, It was her first empanada... ever. It was a kodak worthy moment... so I snapped our first photo in BsAs.

Off to La Viruta. It was more of a disco than a milonga with mixed music. We went there because we heard Color Tango was playing that night. The place was already packed when we arrived at 11:30pm. We were definitely too elegantly dressed for the place. A lot of the younger women were in jeans and skimpy tops. The minute we sat down, we noticed a few men started to gather by our table. We were anxious and excited to receive our very first cabeceo. I glanced at the men around me a few times but mostly kept my eyes on the dance floor. What can I say, maybe it's a cultural thing but I was definitely not that comfortable with the idea of staring at a stranger for more than a second. While I was observing the dance floor, I felt a "tap tap tap" on the right shoulder, then I heard a man say “Bailar tango???” He was a porteno in his 50's... so I nodded, got up from my seat and started my week of Tang-a-thon.

Color Tango came on around 1:30am. A tall, dark and handsome man in a dark suit gave Malena the cabeceo. Malena danced three songs then excused herself because she was worried that he was being polite and was waiting for her to say thank you. We knew that dancing more than one tanda with someone might be misconstrued for romantic interest but what do you do when an orchestra is playing and there is no cortina to mark the end of a tanda??? She sat down and pouted, so I encouraged her to give him the cabeceo later. La Viruta was a decent size venue and he was the only well dressed good looking man in the place (that we noticed). She waited and looked his way several times but he seemed to be busy dancing with other women. After that, I decided not to follow the codigo and danced with the same man while Color Tango was performing their second set. They were outstanding, the energy in the room was electrifying, the sound was mesmerizing. My partner was an older tanguero with the most comfortable embrace and a soft but clear milonguero lead. I closed my eyes and danced with a smile on my face. Every fiber in my body was excited by the music, each movement executed from my core. Wow, after months of anticipation, we're finally here. I was so happy and filled with unexpected emotions that my eyes started to swell up. I don't think I've ever fully understood what "living in the moment" meant till then.

We left around 4:30am. We were hungry and wandered around our neighborhood looking for media lunas but nothing was open. We noticed a man in red car watching us, circling our block several times. Yikes! Still in our 4 inch CIF stilettos, we ran back to our apt. Ugh! Must sleep! Have to wake up at 11:30am for lesson 2.

Tango Soulmates

2007-11-08T08:44:00.000-08:00

What is it that makes these very few people special partners to us? I've been trying to understand why I am drawn to a particular dancer as opposed to another with seemingly similar skills. There are good leaders out there who, alas, we just don't seem to be able to connect with on a deeper level, and then there are the ones whose sole purpose for the duration of the tanda seems to be making us the center of their dance.

I am coming to the realization that certain people's style and feel for tango, in combination with the chemistry of course, simply bring out the best in us as dancers. Is it a matter of compatability, just like in real-life relationships? All of us have noticed that the way we dance can be very different depending on the leader, almost as if belonging to different people, both in terms of skills and style. These few special partners give us the power of their lead, yet grace us with the right amount of freedom for expression. And weave into our expression in turn. The woman. The leader. Then together. Like a special conversation, an aria, or a Shakespearean dialogue...

In his arms I move in a way I never knew I could and I feel the symphony of movements with every fiber of my body. The music reaches my very soul and resonates with my being, now I am truly discovering it as if for the first time and it becomes an intricate part of me. I perform embellishments I never thought I could or was even aware of - now they are drawings of a feeling and not just a spice to my movements. In other words, I dance my best dance. It's light, effortless, I have never felt more in my element before (who said our most natural movement is walking?!) Not for a second I feel timed, controlled, confined or corrected. Rather, I am allowed to be truly myself. No, not allowed. Encouraged! All so naturally, he brings out my true self through his movements, the look in his eyes, his breathing, his heartbeat, through his presence in that very moment. It feels as if we carry the world's existence upon this perfect connection.

And then I understand why people say that when you dance tango there is no past, no future. Everything other than the present disappears in the background. There is only now. Somehow this person makes me open up completely. And bloom, yes, like a flower. I can hear Nora Jones's voice...
Yes, there are these dancers who reach and turn on that light inside of us. Our lost tango other halves who we will always be searching for...

I was sharing these chaotic thoughts with a good friend of mine and after patiently hearing me out, he said: Honey, are you sure you are talking about dancing?
I had to laugh, but I hope this makes at least some sense to someone... Or am I in this too deep...

Xoxo, Malena

Que Es Esto??!!!

2007-11-02T20:24:00.000-07:00

Hola amigas y amigos!

Just came across this video and I am curious as to what you all think. Didn't quite know what to make of it at first, I was fairly stunned. One of the good tango dancers once said that there are no styles in tango and that the only style that exists is tango. Yes, it's all about feeling and having fun, and one shouldn't be judgemental, but this has got to be something else!

Saludos, Malena

What is tango?

2007-10-25T19:36:00.000-07:00

Tango is a mode of transportation.
Tango is a conversation with legs.
Tango is Tai-Chi for two, Akido for two, yoga for two, a martial art for two, with music.
Tango is a three-minute romance.
Tango is a Way in the world, a state of mind, an art, a religion, an addiction.
Tango begins when you decide to live in another country in another time in your mind, while continuing to function in the life you are living.
When people speak of tango they use words like love, passion, fear, desire, sorrow, exile, longing, and anguish. No other social dance form is described with these words. It is not completely true that it takes two to tango. It takes three. An audience. Witnesses.
Tango is a syndrome, a gestalt.
Tango is a sad thought that can be danced.
Tango expresses and creates exile.
Tango is a ritual of encounters and separations.
Tango is the music, the lyrics, the instruments, and the dance - they cannot be separated.
Tango is whatever a milonguero or milonguera says it is for them.
Tango is Argentina.

By Robert Fulghum, copyright 2007
The Continuing Chronicles of Senor Don Roberto Juan Carlos Fuljumero y Suipacha

Tango Dresses (Pretty in Lace)

2007-10-20T17:06:00.000-07:00

1.2.
3.4.
5.6.
7.8.
9.
10.

1. Champagne Cocktail Dress (Gorgeous black tulle detail throughout this strapless.)

2. Lay of the land Dress (Love the scallop lace at neck/hem-line. pretty shade of moss green.)

3. Soft Focus Dress (Old fashion glamour and romance, love the lace details and color.)

4. Meadow-Brown Dress (A-line dress with tulle and a sexy but wearable bustline.)

5. Night Falls Dress (Love the dotted-lace cap sleeves with pretty sash in the back.)

1-5 available at Anthropologie

6. Sexy Red Dress by Giselle James (It's satin, it's lace and it's RED. Need I say more?)

7. Dina Bar-el Lace Cocktail Dress (Sexy & elegant cocktail number from all angles.)

8. Lux in Between Days Dress (Sexy delicate crochet cutouts on neckline, back and hemline.)

9. Alexia Admor Dress (great asymmetrical lace hemline at a great price)

10. Tadashi Lace Illusion Dress (Gorgeous dress...especially from the back!)

The Kiss

2007-10-19T12:47:00.000-07:00

I watched Cinema Paradiso again today. I am not the type of girl who cries over hallmark commercials but this movie gets me every time. It has one of the most beautiful film scores ever composed by Ennio Morricone.

Now tell me... when was the last time you kissed like that?

Revenge is Sweet

2007-10-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

It finally happened at a milonga this past weekend. I know he's been watching me for the past 5 months. I have moved on since that painful and disappointing day. I was a new and naive kid on the block, getting picked on by a senior bully on the playground. I guess it never crossed my mind then that this sort of thing could happen on the social dance floor.

He was watching me; watching and waiting for that perfect song and that perfect moment. The second song of the tanda had just started when he got up from his seat across the room. He actually walked across the middle of the dance floor, while people were dancing. (talk about not respecting the line of dance.) I tried not to look directly at him, but I could sense him approaching with my peripheral vision.

"Oh my, I think The Tan-Ego is about to ask me to dance."

I've played out this scenario in my mind many times. Each time I saw him at a milonga, I knew it was just a matter of time before we'd meet again. The community isn't THAT big and I was making improvements in my dancing. There were so many things I wanted to say to him(...and do to him!)

A) I could be angry.

"What did you ask me you little f#@ker? Why don't you put on your Comme Il Fauts and dance with a pole instead!!!"

B) Kill him with kindness for the greater good of all mankind.

"Hi there, I don't know if you remember me but we met 5 months ago. I was a newbie and you were a bit hard on me. You may not have realized it but I was really hurt and it made me cry. Please be gentle with your comments to the beginners in the future. For the sake of preserving the art of tango, let's work together to build and expand this tango community. With that said, let's make up and enjoy this beautiful dance together."(head tilted and batting my eyelashes)

C)

Ugh! He's coming closer... only 4 seconds to decide!

(4...... 3...... 2...... 1)

"Would you like to dance?"

I was aware that the people around me were also watching him walk across the crowded moving dance floor. So I looked him in the eyes, paused then said in a clear voice,

"No, thank you."

He looked surprised then walked away with his tail between his legs. My impulse would have chosen response A, but I knew it was best to treat him like any other guy, whom I have no interest in dancing with. I also wanted him to feel the rejection that he so feared. He certainly wouldn't have felt that rejection, if he knew I was rejecting him because he had hurt my feelings. It is not up to me to help him fix his issues. I am just a tanguera, who wants to dance with her eyes closed.

After my final encounter with the Tan-Ego, I smiled and danced without a break for four sweet sweet hours. : )

Which side of the brain do you use most?

2007-10-12T08:32:00.000-07:00

This is a great Right Brain vs Left Brain Test!

Ok ready?

Now click on this photo...
Do you see the dancer turning clockwise or counter-clockwise?

If clockwise, then you use more of the right side of the brain and vice versa.

Most of us would see the dancer turning counter-clockwise though you can try to focus and change the direction; see if you can do it.

I'm curious to see the results of this poll from you tangueros and tangueras.

* Please vote when you are done.

* For those of you, who didn't get enough, here's a more in-depth Right/Left Brain test.

It's free but just remember to click "Skip all Offers" at the top of the page when you are done to get your results.

FINAL POLL RESULTS: (based on 33 votes)
51% Right Brain
30% Left Brain
18% Both

(Hmm....does this conclude that people who dance tango are more right brained??)

Good Leaders, Where Art Thou??!!

2007-10-07T16:51:00.000-07:00

Help!! There is a serious shortage of decent leaders in our city!!!

As a follow up to Eva's last post - we thought we were having a temporary dry moment in our usual tango exhilaration, but I am beginning to get really discouraged! Just came back from the only afternoon milonga in the city, which I went to with the thought that it might be good idea to try a new milonga. I had heard it's informal and laid-back, so I figured maybe this is where the good dancers (who are unpretentious and dance for the sake of dancing) could be found. My hopes were shattered as soon as I got off the elevator and headed to the studio. I overheard a woman telling her friend to just turn around and not waste her time. What a disaster indeed! There were few men to begin with, and all the wrong ones at that. I must have danced with two of the worst dancers there, before a somewhat decent but still beginner-intermediate leader asked me to dance. Well, he was as good as it got there. I left after less than an hour. I simply refuse to be jerked around like a rag doll and to be led by men who are musically deaf anymore. I guess the days when we would be happy to dance with almost anyone are far gone. Is this what they call the curse of the good dancer? There are just very few people whom we enjoy dancing with nowadays. Don't get me wrong, I don't consider myself a tango goddess by any means! There is so much to learn. But we enjoy the hard work we put into learning this dance, and at this point, we just refuse to put up with leaders who are on the dance floor for the wrong reasons.

To all the tangueros out there, please keep studying! Why do most men assume that once they get the basics, and can move around the floor without bumping into every couple, they can just stop improving?? No, no, no! You need to keep at it... dear leaders! And as an added benefit to becoming a good dancer, you will have all the power of being "highly sought after". Do you know to what lengths followers will go to dance with a good leader?? On that note, if I can give one word of advice to any guy who is pondering over what hobby to take up, it would be: Learn to tango! Put all your effort into becoming a good dancer and this may change your life around. I am not joking.

Since it takes much longer for men to improve then for women, what do we do in the meantime? Who do we dance with??? I don't know if you tangueras out there have noticed, but I keep seeing a lot of female leaders at milongas lately. I actually danced with a tanguera last week, who was a better leader than a lot of the men present at the milonga. It was refreshing... she was such a joy! Coincidental or have we decided to take matters into our own hands?? I am far from promoting the idea and I happen to prefer being in the embrace of a man because I do feel tango is essentially about the connection between a man and a woman. After all this is how it's meant to be. But why do these women show such initiative and dedication in learning the art of leading, while some men don't seem to care at all? How could they love tango and be satisfied with being lousy dancers?

Still hopeful,
Malena

Tango Angels

2007-10-02T14:27:00.001-07:00

The dreaded tango dry-spells. The love is gone. I've read about them, but haven't experienced it till now. It's been over a month since I've lost my dancing mojo. (Maybe I lost it at that awful milonga from four weeks ago.) Like a relationship turning stagnant; the excitement is gone because my lover's moves have become all too predictable. What happened??? Am I over that beginner's high, where almost every dance feels brand spanking new??? Well, it's been almost a year now since I started and the dancers I once thought was so fabulous are no longer that fabulous. What's changed? Is it because I've gotten to know them better and I'm feeling too comfortable? Because I'm constantly finding myself picking apart their techniques and secretly wishing they could hear my thoughts.

TO: T1
"I like you. You're a really nice man but you sweat too much and it smells like vomit."

TO: T2
"If only you would pay more attention to the music and worry less about your STUPID little steps."

TO: T2 (yes, you again.)
"You could take a longer pause here, the music is screaming.. slow the FCUK down!!!"

TO: M
"You're leading a little too much with your right hand on the giros and the back boleos, it feels jerky... YOU BIG JERK!!!"

TO: F
"Don't you know...you're standing too fcuking close to me when you lead the crusada??? I just sliced my toe open on the hard tip of your big shoe...for the fifth time!!!"

Don't get me wrong, there are good things about their dancing that I do enjoy but I am just feeling that enjoyment is slowly dwindling away. So the big question is what has changed? Could it be that they have reached their plateau, while my dancing has improved? Does this mean I should start saying no to my friends at the milongas, so I can make room for new tangueros, even though I do notice a lot of the decent tangueros only dance with THEIR friends???

I was determined to get out of this funk last week, so Malena and I went to our usual milonga. We sat watching for a while before I turned to her and said, "It's not getting better, is it? What should we do? Do we take a break from tango?" I paused. "Hmm, maybe we could do something else." I then realized just how absurd that sounded because Malena gave me a look and said, "What else IS there to do???"

This past month has been bad. I know it's bad because I've had my eyes opened most nights while I was dancing. I was so bored that I was checking out other people's shoes. I mean I might as well have been filing my nails or even better... his nails. Almost every dance I had, the same thought ran through my mind, "What a waste of a good pair of CIFs!" (Yes...it was THAT bad.)

My maestro showed up that night and I tried to hide from him. I was worried that he would be disappointed in me if he knew I've lost my desire to dance. Anyways, he spotted me when he was dancing and even stopped in between songs to give me a kiss hello. (I just adore that man.) While we danced that night, I told him I didn't know what was wrong but I just wasn't feeling it. He said to me sweetly, "I know, Niña. Try to be here, be in the now, enjoy me, but dance for yourself and not for anyone else."

"Dance for yourself and not for anyone else" (I repeated it to myself)

"Dance for yourself and not for anyone else." (with my eyes closed)

So I blocked out every single person in that room; the dancers dancing; the dancers sitting; the spectators in the corner enjoying their wine. I closed my eyes, listened to the music, listened to his lead, listened to his body, listened to my body and I listened to it's natural impulses. I breathed him in, melted into his embrace, torso to torso, I allowed him to enter into my space. I forget how subconsciously guarded I can be sometimes. But hey, who can blame us when there're all kinds of strange looking creeps lurking at milongas. In the arms of my maestro, I felt safe and we danced two more tandas like this. I exhaled deeply... Pheewww! I could finally breath again! I smiled and gave him a big hug and a kiss for bringing this little tanguera back to life.

Strange but true, when I went to look for Malena to tell her the good news, I found her in a close embrace with HER former maestro, who interestingly also showed up at this milonga and revived her as well. By the time the lovefest ended, it was midnight. We both left the milonga smiling and laughing for the first time in a month. I'm still amazed at what a difference that evening made in our moods. Hey, perhaps the Tango Gods heard our cries and decided to send his tango angels to our rescue.

besos,
Eva

Tango Dérive, Williamsburg Bridge

2007-09-30T15:39:00.000-07:00

Tango Intervention
New York, New York , 9/16/07
12 Couples dance 2.1 miles from Tenement Musuem on the Lower East Side to Conflux Festival Headquarters at 84 Havemeyer Street, Williamsburg.

Here are the photos from this event.

Tango Dresses Part II

2007-09-22T12:38:00.000-07:00

Karanina Convertible Halter Dress

Issa London Halter Dress

AdamPlusEve black printed chiffon strapless Dress

Elie Tahari Rose Charmeuse Dress

Susan Monaco Plum Stripe Halter Dress

BCBG Brown Polka Dot Blouson Dress

T-Bags Print Halter Dress

Jersey Gaia Mini Dress

T-Bags Print Puff Sleeves Dress

Marie Marie Today Dress

DVF Al Reve Dress

Tart Vixen Dress

Tango Dresses

2007-09-16T08:22:00.001-07:00

Velvet Odelia Dress

BCBG Victorian Halter Dress

Dessert Menu Dress

Booms Day Dress

Betsey Johnson Sparkle Knit Dress

Betsey Johnson Polka Dot Dress

Stellaflora Dress

Gorgeous Knotted Back Dress

A.B.S.
black rhinestone neckline asymetrical hem dress

Max & Cleo by BCBG Printed Halter Dress

Side Slit Ruffle Tank Dress

Ginger & Java
purple silk swirl print halter neck dress

Criss-crossed cap sleeves dress

BCBGMAXAZRIA black pleated habotai tie-back dress

Lace Up Back Halter Dress

Blue/Green Printed Halter Dress

CRINKLE CHIFFON DRESS

Norma Kamali Sculpted Mod Jersey Dress

Mara Hoffman faux wrap dress

Amber Dress

Charmeuse Chiffon Dress

Backless Dress

@$&# Dope!

2007-09-10T13:45:00.000-07:00

So I was at this milonga a week ago. I spotted one of the tangueros I usually dance with from across the room. As he walked closer to me, I waved him down and yelled out, "Hey there... how are you?? You look great! When did you cut your hair??? That's a good look for you!" He smiled and said... "Hi. Thanks... hmmm, I didn't realize my hair was that long." I just repeatedly told him he looked great because this guy's hair was down to his shoulders the last time I saw him (not a good look if your hair is thinning on top). He stood next to me for a while waiting for the next tanda to start then asked me to dance.

I noticed right away his lead was smoother and he seemed to have added a few new tricks to his usual routine. I was totally perplexed... I knew I hadn't seen him for a few weeks... perhaps he'd just gotten back from an intensive tango camp???
When the first song ended, he said to me, "It's really a pleasure dancing with you. Is this your first time here? I hadn't seen you before." My head started to scream ..."OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!!!!" I took a few moments to collect myself because my face was starting to turn bright red; I was trying really hard not to burst into laughter (I do that when I am really embarrassed). I finished the tanda and tried to play it off like I was just some bubbly, ultra friendly tanguera. Of course, I lied and said I'd seen him there before. Well a half lie... because I swear the other guy could be his identical twin.

The up side to the story is that his twin is a very good dancer and I got to add him to my dance card for this milonga. But seriously, how pathetic am I? I can't recognize a man by his face but I CAN... by the way he dances???

(... I really need to get my eyes checked.)

besos,
Eva

This is your brain on tango shoes...

2007-08-26T07:27:00.000-07:00

AIM - Tuesday, 11:15 am

Eva: Look at these turquoise shoes!

Malena: Sooooo pretty! Never heard of that brand before...

Eva: Saw it on Tango Shoe Diva, haven't heard of them either...

Malena: How much?

Eva: Ugh! the whole site is in french. With current exchange rate... it comes out to around $200+ a pair.

Malena: ...but I just bought two pairs of Neotangos last night at Felina shoes. Can't believe I am looking at more shoes...

Eva: OMG! look at the ones with the black ribbon ties ... I need those!

Malena: Eva! why did you send me this link??? This is crazy... do we really need another pair? I am running out of room on my shoe rack.

Eva: So get another shoe rack. I'm in love! Noone will have that turquoise color!

Malena: Ok, I'm placing an order for the turquoise and the black cutouts. But that will be it!!!! (... for now)

Eva: Girlfriend! I said NO ONE will have that turquoise color ... and that includes you. : )

Malena: (&#%*@) Fine! you did see them first. I'll get the green strappies.

Eva: Muchas gracias! Ya know Malena .... this would be a lot less costly if we just pick them up ourselves in BsAs.

Malena: Hmmm, oh really??

Eva: Well, if we both buy 7 pairs of shoes there... the money we'll save would pay for our flights!! ; )

Malena: Hmmm... very interesting Eva. I haven't thought about it that way.... but have to admit... you're making a whole lot of sense to me right now.

(10 minutes go by)

Eva: Ok!!! Found an overnight direct flight for the dates discussed.

Malena: ;-) Awesome! Let's book!

Eva: Hee hee... a friend just sent me a link for this really cute top.

(It says... Will (@&#%!) for shoes)

I Close My Eyes

2007-08-21T08:33:00.000-07:00

I close my eyes, so I can shut out the noisy whispers and glares.
I close my eyes, so I can feel my breath.
I close my eyes, so I can see his feet moving beneath his heart.
I close my eyes, so I can free the demons that govern my day.
I close my eyes, so the music can seep through my veins.
I close my eyes, so I can find the music in the silence.
I close my eyes, so I can let my feet sing.
I close my eyes, so my heart can tell you things.
I close my eyes, and I take refuge in your home.
I close my eyes, and I let you care for me.
I close my eyes, and I hold you closer for the last refrain.
I close my eyes, and I pray that we'll love like this again.

The TAN-EGO

2007-08-10T13:57:00.000-07:00

In every tanguera's life, she will undoubtedly have an encounter or two with the male Tan-Ego. I met my first at the "ultra cliquey" milonga at Triangulo. It was my first time there and after sitting for an hour without an invitation to dance, I decided to strike up a conversation with a guy sitting next to me. He started off by telling me that milonga was exclusively for the "cream of the crop" dancers in NYC. He then proceeded to ask me who I study with, how often I take classes and how often I go to milongas because he's never seen me before. When I told him whom I was studying with, he made a face and said, "Oh, I've never danced with anyone good from that school." He doesn't frequent the milongas I go to because he doesn't enjoy dancing with the "older" crowd. He went on to explain the reason why I was sitting was because I am a new face and the "advanced" dancers will only dance with a tanguera after they've accessed her skill level. It's a total Catch-22, can't get dances, if you're not seen dancing. He told me that the assessment process can take a while. In his case, it could take over a year of watching a tanguera before he decides she was finally worth his time on the floor. For the initial invitation to take place, he has to wait for just the right song and asked her at just the right time because any mistake on their first try can make or break their potential tango relationship... and they may never dance again. All the while, I wondered "does this guy even enjoy dancing?"

After the "fun" chat with the Tan-Ego, he finally took pity on me and asked me to dance. Part of me knew it was a mistake then part of me felt I would be more upset if I left the milonga without dancing at all. I'd just gotten back from dancing in Buenos Aires and felt I was up for the challenge. After dancing milonguero style for a week in BsAs, I naturally took to close embrace. I knew immediately I was in trouble... his embrace felt timid and awkward. We started dancing and our knees started to bump together because I couldn't feel his chest leading me. We danced like this for half of the song, then I finally said to him... 'Maybe we should do open embrace." He didn't answer me right away, then said in a condescending voice, "just finish the song!" When the song ended, he asked me what kind of shoes I was wearing. I told him it was Neotango. He then said, I would recommend buying only Comme Il Faut stilettos because it was obviously not high enough and that's why you were bumping into my knees. When I told him I felt our embrace was the cause, he got really defensive and said, "Not only should you get new shoes, you should also start doing sit ups!!! Because you need better support in your dance!" By that point, I was in total shock that I didn't know what to say, so I started to leave. He was still shouting at me when I walked away, "Don't give up, you'll get it someday!"

My encounter with the Tan-Ego left me crying for a week and made me questioned my involvement with tango. I still, to this day, don't know what possessed this person to want to break my spirit. I see him sometimes at milongas sitting by himself, watching and waiting for the perfect dance. I've thought of walking over to him to give him a kick in the face in my CIF stilletos. But then again, I realized he will never enjoy tango as freely as I do, as he's already condemned himself to eternal tango hell. I've wised up since my dancing has improved, I no longer automatically assume responsibility for a mistake and I will never ever tango with the Tan-Ego again.

besos,
Eva

The Working Tanguera

2007-07-08T10:40:00.000-07:00

It's 5pm and I'd already started planning my outfit for tonight's milonga. This started with the shoes.... I stared at my brand new pair of CiFs for a while, a dusty blue print on velvet with silver stiletto heels. They are truly my most treasured pair but they're also the most difficult to work with. I had a hard time finding a single piece of clothing with the same shade of blue in it. My bedroom looked like a war zone. I found something at last.... after trying on 7 outfits... but ended up changing back into the little black number I initially had on. Ugh! Guess I'll have to wear my trusty black strappy Neotangos again.

After I finished with my "NTO" (Non Tango Obligations) for this evening, I rushed over to the milonga because that’s when the night really begins. I always walk in with a little bit of nervous anticipation....wondering who will be there. The door opens and I immediately spotted Lou, who goes to every milonga and seem to know everybody and every body's business. So I always make it a point to chat him up. He gave me the low down on Who’s who… Which guy is there to pick up women and which ones use their tango skills to prey on beginners....etc, etc. He knew their occupations, marital status, how long they've been dancing and which milongas they frequented.

I was waiting in line for the restroom when I bumped into someone I'd met at my very first practica. He looked familiar but I'd forgotten his name... but hey I never forget a face. I also never forget a man's scent, his distinct combination of sweat and cologne, his breath and most definitely if he has BO. This man was a saint; spending over an hour going over the basics with me on that very frustrating day. I was excited of course to show him how much my skills have improved in the past 3 months. I vow to always be kind to those who have helped me along this journey ... no matter how good of a dancer I become. The men always tell me about the women who stop dancing with them, once they feel they are too good. I understand the logic to want to dance with more advance leaders to improve your own dancing but we have to keep in mind, first and foremost, we are human beings before we are tango dancers. So let's help keep the dance floor a happier friendlier place!

The Saturday night milonga is usually good at this studio but it seems tonight was little chaotic. Many leaders were not respecting the line of dance. It was a free for all.... like finding parking on a Sunday afternoon at the mall... ha! you snooze, you loose! I started to imagine what it'd look like if the men wore blinkers on their backs.... signaling their next moves. How funny would that be?

Time seems to fly in tango land.... a few dance partners later and it's time to say Adios. I did some calculations; I dance on average 3 hours a night....lets say a tanda averages at 12 minutes, take away the performance/announcements plus resting every third tanda, this will leave me with the probability of 11 different partners a night….. But since I normally dance 2 tandas with a few friends... this actually leave with me with 3 - 4 new dance partners a night. OK.. I officially need to be commited ... who does tango math at 4am? Well the good thing is I no longer need to wear a watch to milongas, since I discovered that my feet have a built in clock; Automatic shut down after 180 minutes of usage. I can usually tell the system is shutting down when someone asks me to dance and I respond with a Yes, but it takes me a little more effort to get my ass off my seat. Then I am forced to say, "So sorry, perhaps just one song?" I’d go through this scenario several times, before finally heading out the door in my dance shoes, because I am too damn tired to change out of them. What can I say... it's just another night at work for this tanguera!

Besos,
Eva

"Un taxi... por favor!"

2007-07-03T11:01:00.001-07:00

On my trip to Buenos Aires with my "ex" (read previous post), I knew I wasn't going to get asked to dance if we walked into a Milonga together and I, unfortunately, was not brave enough to travel alone not knowing very much Spanish. I'd remembered that one of the recommended dance instructors on my list also moonlights as a taxi dancer. Brilliant! It sounded like the perfect solution, I would get a lesson and a personal guide for the night. When I called Eduardo, he sounded frantic and explained that he was in the middle of an interview. He invited me to join him and some people at a milonga the following night and promised he would dance with me, and only me, for the entire evening. So I figured... why not? All I wanted to do was dance anyway. "Bueno! I pick you up in a taxi at 11:00pm!”, he said before hanging up.

My "ex" decided to meet up with a friend and left me waiting for Eduardo by myself. It was 10:50pm and I was starting to get nervous realizing I was in another country...and in just ten minutes, I would be going to a milonga outside the city with a complete stranger. Different scenarios played out in my head...kidnapped, raped, murdered and dumped in an alley! I grabbed my Spanish phrase book and scrambled to memorize the chapter on Emergencies. Eduardo text me at 11:20pm..."Sorry, leaving now... be there una momento!" Ugh! The anticipation was torturous. The buzzer startled me when it finally rang at 12:15am (note that's 11pm for Portenos). I grabbed my purse and a brand new pair of Comme Il Fauts and ran downstairs to greet him. I was blinded by bright lights when I opened the front door. Lights, Camera, Action! A camera crew of three and a man in his 40's with olive skin, wearing a dark suit and a bright smile. I squinted as he kissed me on both cheeks. I kept smiling, while my mind went to battle. "Run for your life... Who the heck are these people? No, stay! This could be interesting. Damn! I wished the electrical converter I brought with me worked, I could have used the blow dryer today! Why, ohh why, do these things always happen to me???" Eduardo gave me his arm then escorted me into the taxi. Taxi driver drove half way down the block, and then reversed back up the street to pick up one of the camera guys. Inside the taxi, with the camera rolling, Eduardo spoke of many things; the history of tango, pointing out landmarks as we drove past them, his thriving taxi dancing business with 80 + employees all well versed in all forms of dance and language to accommodate the influx of tourists. He also talked about the philosophy behind his teachings of Tango Sensodinamia: A shared movement technique in tango, complemented with concepts from different approaches to bodily movement disciplines blah blah blah... yeah ok, my mind started to wander but I did manage to sustain the look of enthusiasm on my face. When the camera stopped rolling, Eduardo explained that German TV were doing a special documentary on taxi dancers in Buenos Aires and thanked me for my participation.

Forty minutes later, we arrived at the Milonga, north of the city. Eduardo introduced me to everyone at our table... a mix of friends, taxi dancers and students. He wasted no time and invited me to dance as soon as we sat down. His lead was gentle and the embrace was comfortable... the DJ was playing one of my favorite songs; Bahia Blanco by Di Sarli... ahhh! finally! I closed my eyes and started to ascend into tango heaven. Lets just say, I quickly fell back to earth when I felt the heat of the spotlight on my face again. Apparently they wanted some dancing footage; close ups of my face, and then panning to our feet. Eduardo tried leading some fancy steps... I fumbled... Ugh! now the whole place was staring at us. At the end of the tanda, he escorted me back to the table. He sat with his arms around me... making me feel... oh so special, ordering me drinks while we talked about our love of tango. I came to the conclusion that there's little difference between taxi-dancers and escorts. They are both there to create a magical evening for the single traveler and I intended to make full use of my purchase!

One of the ladies at our table was celebrating her birthday and asked if she could borrow Eduardo for a dance. I felt an unfamiliar sense of entitlement. Accepting my ownership of Eduardo (well, at least of his feet for the evening), I said, "Sure, happy birthday! One of the taxi dancers gave me the cabeceo from across the table. I accepted. Robert, conveniently, also a taxi driver, was an overweight man in his 50's but a very enthusiastic dancer. His lead was strong and clear; he danced with impeccable musicality. When we finally broke from our embrace, my dress was soaked in his sweat. He didn't speak a word of English, but we laughed heartily after each dance, relishing in the sheer exhilaration of feeling completely in tune with each other. Ahhh! Tango... the universal language of love!

When I returned to our table, I overheard a conversation between two women. "Isn't it strange to have your boyfriend rented out for the night?”, one woman said to another. That's when I realized Eduardo had brought his girlfriend and she had been sitting at the far end of the table watching him the whole evening. Being my usual empathetic self, I walked over to her and introduced myself, reassured her that I had no plans to take her boyfriend home. By then it was 3:30am, and I was physically and mentally exhausted from the chain of events. So I thanked and paid Eduardo for the fun filled evening and then walked up to the hostess stand "Un Taxi... por favor!"

Besos,
Eva

Did Tango steal my boyfriend?

2007-06-27T14:21:00.000-07:00

I was 4 months into tango when I met Jeff. I knew he didn't dance but that was ok; just as long as he was opened to giving it a try. He was a musician who loved tango music, so that was a good start. Our third date was at a beginners tango workshop, which I'd taken before but didn't mind refreshing what I had already learned. With lots of praise, he marched on, step by more awkward step. He was stiff as a board but I was impressed by his bravery and open mind. I talked him into taking a beginner class with me, telling him it'd be a great way to get to know each other and tango is a great skill to have for a man because women dig it. Till this day, I am still not sure which part was the real motivator. I encouraged Jeff to keep up the good work and he was pleased with his progress. He would grab me to practice with him every chance he had...whether it's at the dance studio, on subway platform or the supermarket. He even rearranged the furniture in my studio appartment to create more space.

It took him a good 8 weeks to finally learn to walk with his chest first, instead of his feet; I'm lucky I still have all my toes. My impatience grew with every misstep. I was starting to feel like he was "using me for my body." I must have done the basic 8 steps a million times. But the more resentful I felt, the more guilty I felt. Why doesn't he understanding this is not enjoyable for me? Look at him... he's so happy to be dancing with me... it was I, after all, who started this whole madness.

With the strong desire to take my dancing to the next level and to start my tango shoes collection, I decided it was time to plan a trip to Buenos Aires. I mentioned it to Jeff, even though I didn't think he'd want to go because we'd only been dating for a short time. To my surprise, he accepted without any hesitation, "Sure, I would love to tango in Buenos Aires!!!" I was happy to have a travel partner, even though I had some concerns. I'd heard that it's difficult for beginner male dancers to get dances there; so I knew I had my work cut out for me.

Our very first milonga in Buenos Aires was a place called X. Our enthusiasm quickly faded as soon as we realized everyone there were advance dancers. Everywhere we looked .... expertly executed boleos, ganchos, colgadas, volcadas and on the last beat of each song, everyone stopped and posed in unison. We sat there watching for a while, before I heard the dreaded 5 words "Do you want to dance?" I knew that Milonga was way out of my league and the thought of dancing with a toe stomping beginner was enough to give me heartburn. So I closed eyes and clicked my ruby red heels three times then waited......hmmm, nothing; I was still far from home. So I swallowed my gum along with my pride, glued on a smile, then walked him to the center of the dance floor and prayed no one would notice us.

We both took on private teachers while we were in town. I noticed he grew especially fond of his.... inviting her to coffee after each lesson; he claimed it was so he could practice his Spanish. It was definitely a more assertive and flirtatious side of Jeff I hadn't seen before. She gave him homework and he practiced religiously everyday, with and without my help. And when he didn't blink twice buying a $300 pair of custom made tango shoes... I knew I had created a monster! My obsession became his.... our entire relationship had been built on tango grounds. Did he agree to go to Buenos Aires with me .... or was it with Tango herself???

When we returned back to New York, I decided to test out my newly acquired skills and signed up for my first Intermediate tango class and a milonga. Jeff showed up unexpectedly toward the end of the class. Before the milonga started, he pulled me aside and asked me to sit down. That's when he broke the news, right between class and milonga...... he said it, "I want to date other people." then thanked me profusely for introducing him to tango. I wished them both luck, cause lord knows he's going to need it. Needless to say, I never made it to the milonga that night. I took my bruised heart and dance shoes home instead for a good cry.
I received an email from Jeff later that week... staking his claim to the Monday night milonga.

Ironic.... but did Tango steal my boyfriend???

: (
Eva

Drug Pushers

2007-06-25T20:45:00.000-07:00

Ok... so you've watched too many episodes of Dancing with the Stars. You've been seduced by the sexy images... so much so that you can no longer hide your secret desire to be one of those dancing divas. So you search online for the closest dance school and sign up for one of those "introductory offers", which includes a 30 minute private lesson. You're nervous... you're a tango virgin. There he is... strolls in with that unmistakably smooth tango walk ... he smiles and takes you in his embrace and whispers "Let's just dance, shall we?... I want you to feel..." I will always trace the obsession back to that very moment. Never danced a step of tango in my life... and there I was responding to his every lead... I was his puppet and he's pulling all the strings... miraculously moving my feet. So You catch yourself dancing in the mirror and can't hardly recognize yourself. "Is that me?" "Are those my feet?" He tells you..."You are such a natural!"... "Are you sure you've never danced before??"... "You definitely have what it takes!"... and "You're going to be one hot tango dancer!"
By that point... you are so high, you've forgotten your name. You are now Lola ...the smoking, sexy, gorgeous tanguera extraordinaire. The lesson ends with you still in a tango haze. Aha! he knows he's got you.... because he's now holding the appt book and class schedule in his hand. Warning: Tango is a drug and tango teachers are the drug pushers. Now that you've had a taste of it... you want, no you NEED more of it. All the reservations you had about spending money on dance lessons goes out the window. All I can remember thinking was...."here, take my money... take it, take it all!!!... just give me my tango!" A star is born... or so you hope because you've just taken a chunk out of your savings signing up for their "Introductory Package" with the whole sha-bang... private lessons, group classes.... oh and those dance socials you use to make fun of because you once thought only your parents would go to.
Yep... tango is fun, go for it! Just remember once you step into that room with the "drug pusher"... there's no turning back.
Tango is one costly addiction!

Under the "influence"

2007-06-21T11:05:00.000-07:00

It was one of the very first milongas I was brave enough to attend alone. I strapped on my black suede tango shoes and gathered the courage to look up at the room full of people. And there he was... looking straight at me from the other end of the dance floor. An attractive man in his 40's with a sexy mysterious smile and dark brown eyes so penetrating that I can still feel them. He gave me the cabeceo and I responded with a nod. I waited in place as I watched him make his way towards me. Without breaking from our gaze, he raised his left hand inviting me into his embrace... I melted into him as if I've always belonged there. I closed my eyes and took in his musky scent; masculine and exotic. We both took a deep breath and took our very first step into tango oblivion. He moved with precision and confidence...I became the brush in the hands of an artist. I realized then that I've never surrendered myself so completely to a total stranger before. We must have danced for over an hour without speaking much, other than a few exchange of words in between dances. He was a writer visiting from the Netherlands. It was his last night in NYC and he was heading to Boston for the next two weeks before flying back home. When the milonga ended, he told me he felt very fortunate to have met me and politely asked if I'd mind that he wrote me. (what? If I would mind??) I tried to contain the excitement in my reply..."Sure, here's my email address", before floating away with a big smile on my face.

We started corresponding through email that week.....couldn’t wait to learn more about each other. Before we knew it, emails turned into phone calls. We'd talk for hours each night...I was falling in love..... his voice, his silence.. breathing on the other end. The day before he was supposed to fly home, it was decided. As crazy as it was, we had to see each other in the flesh. He rescheduled his flight and I got on the next train to Boston. Thoughts were racing through my mind. Oh the distance! What if it was an illusion? What if the magic belonged to that night only and should have been left on the dance floor?? Maybe the allure was just the mystery of this perfect 3 minute love affair? Is it a mistake to think that it could be achieved in real life?

As I was approaching Boston, I had thousands, no, millions of butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t get there fast enough, at the same time my steps felt heavier than ever. What was about to happen? I was anxious and afraid to find out. I spotted his blue shirt before his eyes found me. The last steps were the hardest. He smiled and reached out to hold me. In his arms again, this time standing on the train platform, I knew right there and than it wasn't him all along.... it was the arms of tango I had fallen in love with. I held in my disappointment while we chatted over a few drinks, then caught the next train back to New York. Lesson learned... objects may appear larger than life, when you're under the "influence".
Until the next encounter.

xoxo
Malena

Rickety Roller Coasters

2007-06-20T10:49:00.000-07:00

Malena and I went to a Milonga last night at a local Italian restaurant. The room was more crowded than usual, although it still consisted mostly of older couples. We took a table near the dance floor. We toasted to our addiction with a glass of white, while we inconspicuously scoped out the room for potential partners, or just men closer to our age. There were a total of two competent tangueros on the floor but unfortunately they had brought their own tangobabes. Hmmm I thought.... maybe he'll grow bored eventually and seek out new flesh to cleanse his palate...kind of like lemon sorbet but definitely not as tart. The first man approached our table... hmm i recognized him, he's that guy from Sunday's outdoor milonga. Who seemed to have three steps to his dance vocabulary, and rhythm was not one of them. Phewww!.... he turns to Malena, who's never dance with him before. I gave her a look of sympathy and part relieve, as he escorted her to the floor. Being somewhat new to the scene, guess we tangueras must endure the arduous task of weeding out the men who can dance and the ones who really shouldn't. The highlight of my evening was dancing with Charlie, a feisty man in his late 60's, early 70's. I was excited he showed up because I knew a dance with him would be anything but boring. We met at a milonga two weeks ago. Thats where it happened. During the third song of our first tanda, he whispered in my ear... "just hold on." All I can remember was I was in the midst of an ocho, and a split second later I was in an upside down tango pose. He held me there for a few seconds... long enough to see the faces staring back at me. To my surprise, I was not at all angry with him. Sometimes tango is like a rollercoaster ride.... you have the slow climb that builds with anticipation...and then the inevitable climax as the musical crescendos unite your heart and your feet. Charlie is like one of those old rickety rollercoasters in Corney Island. You have an eerie feeling the car could fall apart at any moment but there's just something bizarrely thrilling about it. Lesson # 1..... "must wear shorts under skirts"

Besos,
Eva