On the back of a bout of flu, I climbed of my bed, feeling the effect of dry throat. Although much better, my muscles are still aching.
No matter, better not miss too many tango classes. I already missed friday. Need to catch up. So I went to tango brujo (wizard) for some nuevo tango classes. I've come to realise in order to get ahead of nuevo tango, one needs a fellow lady who is a former dancer or can really control her body well. As such I'm going spend most of my efforts on the milonguero style.
The evening saw me travel about 30 mins on cab, out of town, to a neighbourhood place called Abasto, to take classes from Sandra y Eduardo Arce. Nice people and dancers, but their tango salon are sprinkled with stage effects and thats not what I wanted. Darn, spent 30 pesos (thats 3 beef barbecue buffets!) all in all just to travel here and back.
Back in my hostel now 11pm at night I thought hehe its time for saturday night fever. All decked out in my Hugo Boss suit and tie, I search for the nearest most happening milonga...here it is.. La Argentina Milonga, just 10mins walk away.
Out in the cold windy night I can't help but walk in a swagger. Feeling very good about myself and determined to enjoy the night.
Reaching La Argentina, I noticed the ushers and the receptionist were beaming at me, more so than usual. Must be my suit then.... probably never imagined a Hugo Boss suit on a chinaman had ya?
The door opened to the smoky interiors filled with old grannies and grandpas. Well, the best milongueros are this age, I'll have a good time... Or so I thought...
The tango music lasted for 2 tandas and then 45 mins of rock and roll, salsa follwed. I sat glumly in my chair looking supremely out of place, in terms of race and age. No matter, I'll wait for the tango to come. So finally a vals tanda came on. Right, here's vals (argentine waltz), my moneymaker...
I nodded to the nearest granny to me and then we went to the dance floor. I was acutely aware of the eyes on my. They must be thinking wtf is this young chinese boy dancing here?? Well, lucky you old granny in gold shiny dress....
What followed can only be described as the worst dance of my life. She was stiff, not even comfortable in close embrace. Its almost as if she doesn't want to dance with me. I had so much trouble moving her I almost had to stop and check if she had crutches on... After awhile I thought to myself I must be dancing ballroom tango, because I was moving her legs with my own legs!
After 4 valses, she totally took my vals mojo.... And she looked kinda pissed that it was my fault the dance sucked! No matter. Its my fault. I should checked around for good dancers.
Yet, another 45 mins of rock and roll, salsa came on... The people boogied and I once again sat glumly at my table, this time feeling worse because I'm now without my vals mojo.
I refused to give up and now a dramatic Pugliese came on. Once again determined to make my night, I nodded to the nearest lady (yes granny). Once again, I struggled through 4 Pugliese... I was ready to dance my heart to the old maestro orchestra... But she? she couldn't even wait for me to change weight.
What's is wrong??? In the midst of self pity and reflection and talking to the hombres (grandpas) sitting around me, I finally realised that this is not a tango milonga, this is more of a social dancing night where people come and dance different dances, and tango is just one of them. WTF!!
Immediately I decided to leave and who cares its 230am in the morning. I have to dance. I took a cab and drove down to La Confiteria Ideal. Its all you man La Ideal, make my night... When I reach there it was closed... the last granny was leaving the place.
And so I went back to my hostel wistfully... All dressed up and nowhere to go. But I also know I can't sleep on the back of two such dances. Well, they say milongueros are slave to the dance. I may not be a milonguero but I'm not about to go to bed feeling this violated.
So at 330am in the morning I took a cab and tried a coup de grace, last ditch effort at El Beso. I reached El Beso, and the familiar music was playing, the familiar dancing figures and feeling was back. I spotted Diana, my italian friend from Cacho's class. A vals came on and we danced a tanda.
I didn't dance anymore that night after that vals tanda... but I got my vals mojo back... thank God...
