Crossroads

Once upon a time there was a centipede that was amazingly good at
dancing with all hundred legs. All the creatures of the forest gathered to watch every time the centipede danced, and they were all duly impressed by the exquisite dance. But there was one creature that didn’t like watching the centipede dance—that was a tortoise.

“How can I get the centipede to stop dancing?" thought the tortoise. He
couldn’t just say he didn’t like the dance. Neither could he say he danced better himself, that would obviously be untrue. So he devised a fiendish plan.

He sat down and wrote a letter to the centipede. "O incomparable centipede," he wrote, "I am a devoted admirer of your exquisite dancing. I must know how you go about it when you dance. Is it that you lift your left leg number 28 and then your right leg number 39? Or do you begin by lifting your right leg number 17 before you lift your left leg number 44? I await your answer in breathless anticipation. Yours truly, Tortoise."

When the centipede read the letter, she immediately began to think
about what she actually did when she danced. Which leg did she lift first? And which leg next?

The centipede never danced again.

-- Excerpt from "Sophie's World" by Jostien Gaardner

"When I dance I do not think (about steps). When I think, I am just a ghost, I'm not dancing." Tete, milonguero, Buenos Aires.

So now, with the basic framework established, let's go back to my definition of a milonguera. 'Someone who has mastered the art of conversing with her dance partner in the dance with tango music.'

Like a good conversationalist, a milonguera knows tango music by heart (conversation topics). She feels the music in her soul. Every violin string, every piano note and every word of the lyrics, she knows it musically and she feels it emotionally as well.

Music isn't only a formation of mathematically harmonious notes; it is primarily a window to the emotions of the interpreters: orchestra, musicians & singers. And in tangos, interpreters sing about places and events which are close to the hearts of Argentina's people.

So many times, when I danced with milongueras of Buenos Aires, they sing beside my ear, with their beautiful voices, the wrenching lyrics of tango. And they are the only ones to do so. These are the moments you can tell they are lost in the music which flows within their blood.

From the outside when you see milongueras dancing, their bodies move in harmony with the music: smooth, when the music is romantic, excited when the music is energetic... And never any high kicks on slow and quiet Di Sarlis!

Like a good converstionalist, a milonguera can dance with many good social dancers and will be fully connected to her partner (listens and understands).

After so much social dancing, milongueras have the ability to listen to the leader's suggestions, understand his musical interpretation (conversational ideas) and connect with him perfectly.

I can see many milongueras which are highly sought after by the best milongueros; they dance with just about all of them and milongueros always dance with a smile on their faces while the couple is moving in harmony.

Like a good conversationalist, a milonguera has her own interpretation of the music (her own independent ideas) and isn't afraid to express it.

In the embrace, if the leader is sensitive enough and allow himself to feel and listen like a good conversationalist would, he will feel the milonguera's music through her body's expressiveness. He will feel the motion of her face towards his as if she is looking for a more intimate hug, when the music gets intense. He will feel her body softening like a languid snake following the drawn out melody of the violin. He will feel her feet landing and/or embellishing with a sharp energy when the music gets rhythmic.

And if he is an open minded leader (a sensitive guy), he might even allow for some times during the dance when he will suggest and lead nothing. He will let the women express her own interpretation of the music fully. And milongueras never miss a chance to seize these little 'silent windows' and embellish them with body expressions of their own (their own tango talking). They dance!

Like a good conversationalist, a milonguera inspires (interesting conversation) her partner during the dance. Not only does she know the music, can she connect to her partner and add her own interpretations, but also she is able to inspire him through her dancing.

When, with a milonguera, we listen and share the same emotion to the music, she gives me the sensation that she truly understand and agree with what I am dancing (saying). And she can add her own emotions and musical interpretations (clever remarks) on top, like adding oil to the fire, making it burn even more brightly. When I slow down, she slows down too, but in an even more intense way. When I attack the beat, she attacks the beat too but with an even sharper energy.

When we are listening to different elements in the music, or when I am dancing to a tango which I am not familiar with, she delights me with her way of interpretating the music. She is never disconnected from me but shares with me her interpretation which usually suits the music perfectly. Through her body energy, she lets me know when she would like us to pause, when she would like me to slow down and when she would like us to attack the beat.

Whether we are listening to the same elements of the music or not, her dancing is inspiring. In the very same way, Royce described her dancing experience with old milongueros.

So how do you become a milonguera then? That is another topic for another day...

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A female tango dancer friend related to me, a fellow guy dancer suggested this to her:

This dancer said that dancing tango is just a way to 'stretch one's body'... ...He regards tango as a kind of sport and might think of the milongas as gyms too... ...He also said that the dancing energy can be seperated from the music and he doesn't like girls to express anything of their own in the dance. He even said that girls can give up their musicality and just follow what he wants to do."

To that I have the perfect response, which comes in the form of a story a good milonguera friend named Marite told me:

She was once with a dancer who danced trying to control and lead her every movement. He ignored all the suggestions she made to him during the dance...

After half a song, she gave up adding her own spice and just followed. At the end of the tanda the guy said: "Wow!! You dance very well!"

To which she replied: "Oh thank you! I followed well, but I didn't dance."

Royce wrote an article awhile ago, 'Musicality of the Milongueros' ( http://www.loksze.com/thoughts/2008/02/25/musicality-of-milongueros/ ). This is a response to her article from a guy's point of view. How does it feel like dancing with a milonguera (good lady tango dancer)?

First, what is a milonguera? To me, the key essential point is: she is someone who has mastered the art of conversing with her dance partner in the dance with tango music.

The key words here are 'music', 'dance' and 'conversing'.

So now, you might ask. What does 'conversing' mean? Verbal speech? Sign language? Hardly. To understand the 'conversation' in tango, we must first talk a bit about 'music' and 'dance'.

Before dance, there first exist the 'music'. In music, the composers and the orchestra seek to communicate their own emotions, memories and ideas with melody, rhythm and lyrics. In other words, the music maker put their own 'reality' or 'self' or 'personality' into the music the composers composed and the orchestra play.

That is why you can identify the music of different orchestras straight away. D'Arienzo has such flavours, Di Sarli has such flavours and Pugliese has such flavours, etc. They are all distinct, like their personality; even on the same musical score.

With existence of music, the dance is born. As of all dances, the dancers listen to the music of the music makers and then interpret it with their own body movements. The interpretation of the each piece of music is then added with their own individual 'reality' or 'self' or 'personality' of the dancers.

In another words, every dancer interprets, even the same kind of music, differently; with their own individual, independent ideas and flavours plus body limitations.

It is straight forward in individual dancing, or non partner dances. Contemporary dances like Jazz, Hip Hop, everyone interprets the music he hears independently and moves according to his own creativity and understanding.

So if spoken language is a way of verbally communicating between one human being and another. We can say, music is a way of communicating the music maker's ideas to the listener. Music is the language of the composers and orchestras.

Dancing is also a language. A little different but in the similar vein. The dance is a way of communicating the dancer's ideas to the receiver. And the dancer's ideas is restricted or influenced by the music that he or she is dancing on.

In other words, the better the dancer's understanding of the music maker's reality (music), the more accurate he is in perceiving and giving an accurate interpretation.

That is why you would not see 50 cent's hip hop moves do very well on Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake. Or that is why those brazilian female dancers groove so well on samba.

So the dance is the language of the dancer, in communicating to the receiver. And it is for this and only this reason, dance exists. Dance exists only as a form of expression, or language.

But what about a partner dance like tango? It is easy to see that in partner dances, the receiver of the dancer's interpretation of the music is his or her partner. That is the essence of a 'partner' or 'social' dance, a dance within two people.

Hence if tango music is the language of the music maker to the tango listener, then tango dance is a language of the dancer towards his or her receiver; which in this case is his or her dance partner.

In this magical dance of tango, where a partner is present, and the language is directed towards one another, voilà! There exists a possibility of the receiver communicating back to the dancer. Hence, there exists the possibility of a 'conversation' between the partnering dancers.

But as in the case of the free form dancer's language being restricted by the music maker's reality. This conversation between two dancers is also restricted by the partner's reality.

That is to say, in tango, because it is a partner dance, not only you are expressing your own interpretation of the music, you are also on the 'receiving end' of your partner's interpretation of his or her music.

Being both the interpretor and receiver at the same time, although the form of the expression is still the same as in a free form dance; dance, a physical language. But the context is now different. It is a two way street. Just like an english speaking newscaster might be using english language in one manner on television and using it in another manner when he communicates with his wife.

And the main important difference that facilitates this communication or 'conversation' is to be aware of this additional reality (your partner's). In other words the dancer not only needs to listen to the music and then express it, he or she needs to listen to the partner.

An apology for such a lengthy explanation. To express something so magically felt in written words is not an easy feat. The best way to find out how a milonguera feels like when dancing is... to dance with them.

It was the last day of 2007, Javier rounded up some his close students and friends for a mini celebration at his home in the neighbourhood named Constitucion in Buenos Aires.

It was a quiet and intimate dinner at the balcony, there were his close friend Marite and yours truly. The taiwanese dancers, Annie, Gustavo and Maxima. A chilean dancer called Enzo. Two russian girls called Karina and Lida.

Javier demonstrated one of his many talents outside tango by cooking up a storm for us (he also sews his own sofa covers and outfits, designs Andrea's hairstyle and dresses, amongst other things). There were 'canoles de veduras' a type of italian pasta, beef stew and russian salad by Lida.

"Let's write down our wishes on the 'globo' before we send it up to the heavens." Javier told us after we finished our dinner.

A 'globo' is like a small hot air balloon made of paper, with a candle attached to the base of the balloon so that when lighted by fire, the candle burns and the balloon traps hot air to float up skywards.

Spanish, english, russian and chinese wishes were written down on the paper. It reminded me of our chinese style 'Kong Ming Den' (Lantern of Kong Ming). Unlike what we are doing, it wasn't used as communication with gods; Nevertheless it was used as an important form of battle communication and coordination during ancient war time in China.

As our wishes floated skywards, the clock struck midnight. Cheers around the neighbourhood could be heard and the Buenos Aires skyline lit up with fireworks. All around the city, on the streets and on rooftops, fireworks were set off.

The 'globo' did not rise too high before it crashed into a nearby building and burst into flames. We did another two of them and neither survived more than 10 seconds. We had a good laugh. Close proximity of buildings was really not very condusive to such pyrotechnics.

But as I watch an errant firecracker from the street fly into a nearby window, I have a sense that, at this moment the Buenos Aireans do not really care. They just want to enjoy themselves; a fine balance to thread.

Then we played some silly water games, spraying champagne, coke, ice and water on one another.

For two hours after midnight, the skyline continued to be peppered by fireworks. At Javier's balcony, we had the perfect vantage point. Chatting and enjoying the first morning of the new year.

After awhile, Javier put on some cumbias and tangos and we took turns to boogie away.

Intimate and chilled out, that was how I welcomed year 2008.

The hands that we have, they are incredible God given tools that are windows to our soul. From simple gestures of communication, complex everyday task such as opening a metal can; to hand dependant, creative arts such as playing the piano, writing, painting, sculpting or even performing a magical sleight of hand etc. Our hands are another testimony to our humanity; that which seperates us from animals.

And one of the magic the hands could effect is a touch. A healing, physical touch that we can give to ourselves and others, and the professional arena that deals with this healing touch is the massage.

In my military years, I was doing very harsh physical training. I would go for weekly massages that helps my muscles recover faster. I love getting a massage, having a pair of hands pamper my tired body.

I remember one particularly beautiful massuer, her name was Nancy and she was in her late 30s or early 40s. Getting massaged by her was a great pleasure, physically and psychologically.

Nancy would also delight me by telling funny stories about her work. From men that can't stop farting, loud snoring and indecent proposals; to wandering hands and exhibitionistic men.

"There was this young guy, I named him 'Xiao Huai Dan (little bad egg)', he keeps touching me during massages and he would pull up the covering towel to show his 'thing'!" she told me during one of our massage session, to my great amusement.

That was more than one and a half years ago; massage was a luxury I could no longer afford to recieve since I stopped working. But it was still a luxury I could give. So when I was back in Singapore mid 2007 I went to apply for a job in a spa, as a massuer myself.

The desire to learn a useful skill combined with the unwillingness to pay SGD1500 for a 3 months massage course. I plunged straight into working in a spa and learnt as I worked. I got the job and worked a total of 3 months giving swedish massages.

As much as I want to massage women; it is hard to find such a job in Singapore for a guy, much less for an uncertified massuer such as myself. Hence I could only get work in a men only spa.

Hence the nature of the job came with a hidden implication of sexual orientation, which I did not ask for and certainly not true for me; A men only spa that has only men massuers. Hmmmm...

"Some customers would ask for your phone number or touch here and there. Just say 'sir I'm sorry but we only do massages here.' If there are anymore problems just stop the massage and let me know." Ken, my boss tried his best to assure me.

"Sure boss, I'll also like you to know I have a girlfriend... Girl." I winked. "Ya lah! Not all my massuers are gay. But most of the clients are." Ken laughed.

I recall the tremendous mental hurdle I had to overcome, in my first few massage experiences. 'A big slab of man meat lying on the massage bed.' I thought to myself. 'Damn... why am I not massaging nice smelling and delicate women bodies...why... why... no... no... must concentrate... concentrate on the massage techniques and procedures... concentrate... concentrate...'

I did two massages on my first day of work. The first customer was pretty silent and he slept through the massage. When I came to the second one, he was lying butt naked on his front and he immediately said, "Hi, what's your name? My name is Joseph, Josephine."

He turned out to be quite a nice guy. Chatting and telling me animatedly about his favourite gay hangouts in Bangkok, Thailand. Again, I took all this in with great amusement.

By the time he turned and laid on his back, he stopped talking and fell asleep, or so I thought. I was massaging his stomach, with a towel covering him from waist down.

Suddenly something stirred, 'Shit!... Frankenstein moment...its alive! No no... stop growing... stop growing... STOP... oh no no... ops there it is... oh my eyes! MY EYES!...' Josephine's dick peeked out to say hello from the covering towel, as I frantically moved my hands away from his stomach to avoid any contact.

I got a SGD20 tip and Josephine became a regular customer of mine.

Then there was another regular customer of mine, Sam. His first session with me was scheduled to be one hour. After 45 minutes, he told me he would like to extend for another 30 minutes till one and a half hours. Then, later he extended again till 2 hours. Towards the last 10 minutes he told me to stop and said, "Your massage feels so good that I have to stop now if not I would want another one hour. Why not you just come and sit down beside me and talk to me for the last 10 mins."

Then there was another guy who wanted me to massage him with so much strength it literally felt like a torture session. At the end of the massage both of us are covered in sweat.

Then there was another one, who after the massage session asked me, "Do you do sensual massages too?" Sensual???

Touchy guys, asking for phone number, indecent proposals... In the end, after my 3 month working stint as a massuer in that spa, I not only got what I wanted; a professional massage training, it was also filled with such interesting experiences.

It made me realise a few things. Advances by men, gay or otherwise, can be very strong and direct, and can sometimes be a turn off. Being on the receiving end myself, even if I was a girl or if I was gay, I would not liked some of the things they said or did because they were not very gentlemanly.

Oh the flipside, men are allowed to get away with these things. The extent of the indecency that is tolerated in the name of business is surprisingly large. It made me think about Nancy and her stories; sometimes, because he is a paying customer, the rudeness is tolerated. I think even in everyday societal interactions, there is a lot of indecency being grudgingly tolerated, even with a smile.

Would I go back again to work? Why not? I was so welcomed in the spa that Ken even offered partnership, "basically you need to learn other massages and also some techniques in facial and body scrub, but I am running a one man show and I need someone's help. If you are still interested after you come back from Argentina, let me know."

In the meantime, its good to know that these hands of mine have gained another magical tool, one that will accompany me for the rest of my life.

(Names are changed to protect the identities.)