All those grazias The good part of the night seemed to be over. My friends did their duties, I was left to my own devices. I took Marko's advice and decided to focus on the senior ladies. Please don't get me wrong: one of my favourite dancers is 50+ and my favourite Italian lady is in her 60s. The thing is, Marko had been noticing that a lot of senior ladies spend an awful lot of time sitting, while the »young and pretty« girls get to handle multiple miradas all the time, which usually gets to their heads. »Don't even try to cabeseo in this corner. You see, the maestros are sitting just over there. All the best leaders are here. And the ladies here will only dance with the best,« Marko charted out the terrain. »The ladies sitting at the other side of the hall, especially a bit older ladies, would be grateful for your cabeseo. They are likely to be patient and supporting. They are usually experienced and wise enough to not think of themselves too highly. And the best part is – you have a good chance of discovering a really good dancer. Sometimes women sit all night just because they don't know anybody and nobody knows them. Fu*k it, that's the thing with milongas!« Marko finished the plan of operations. The plan seemed legit. I would be happy to dance with any lady here. So I followed Marko's advice. I went 'in' again and again, finding somebody new to dance with. Here's what happened most times: instead of being left on the dance floor after the second song, I advanced to being dumped after the third. Some people collect stamps. Or napkins. I was collecting Grazias. But instead of being hurt for all those rejections, I rejoiced in the fact that I was making progress. Nonetheless, it still felt like I just returned from a battlefield. My ego armor could only take so many punches. I knew it wasn't personal. However, it was not pleasant either. And definitely not inspiring. And one needs inspiring if he wants to last til the end of the milonga, which was 7 AM. The tanda with Majci seemed like it happened ages ago. After the Grazias, I lost courage. At one point I sat down and remained seated. An hour passed. And then another hour. I was watching other people have fun. It was rather mesmerizing watching people's feet as they danced. I loved the sound of dancing shoes' soles as they were sweeping the dance floor. Observing can be meditation. It was past 6AM. I was tired, weak and my body was practically sleeping. My passion for dancing had died long ago. I wasn't even thinking about dancing anymore this night. It was just passing time until my friends reassembled so we could go home. Milonga resurrection: a tanda that saved them all I changed my seat and moved to where Marko & Co. gathered to hunt. The alfa domain. I didn't care if this spot was out of my league . I was not playing their game anymore. Here and there I would meet a friendly face, sweaty from dancing. I tried to appear fine so no one would bother me with the questions. Forty more minutes. Sanja jumped into my line of vision. It was good to see her. She chatted me up. Before I could confess my death, she heard something – a supposedly amazing song – and asked if I wanted to dance. I did not want to dance. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Luckily though, my mouth was very sleepy. So I had time for a more inspiring thought. I would not miss a tanda with Sanja in all my sanity. As I was getting up from the chair where I had grown roots, I was wondering how the hell I was going to move, let alone dance. My legs were totally stiff. I felt like I just woke up from hours of afternoon napping. Surprisingly enough, my body resurrected in no time. We had a great tanda. It was not as spectacular as those valses, but it was nice, liquid, and just simply enjoyable. I was reborn! Returning to the big boys area, Sanja was fast to accept a cabeseo from someone else. I was back (playing their game), chatting with men, pretending to be engaged in the conversation, while keeping my eye on the next mirada. Then, as if a memory arose, a sudden gentle wave of relief came over me. I sat down and relaxed. I realized I was happy. Nothing else to achieve. Nothing to prove. Just - nothing. How beautiful is that? My first ultima
So I sat and enjoyed myself, being full and empty at the same time. A cortina played. And then a new tanda began. Time went by peacefully. Later, a cortina played again. Straight through my zen came a single thought: »Dude, you're here, why not dance? You're cool now, so go ahead and have a cool tanda with someone.« I didn't mind the mind as there wasn't anything else I needed to do tonight. Simply being would be perfect. You know, it really was a nice tanda of tango, though. Where is Sanja? Ah, well, never mind, with so many good dancers around, why would she... anyway. It's good. I'm cool. I am zen. Just being. Yup. Maybe go stretch my legs a bit? Sure. All great masters enjoyed a walk. I walked around the place a bit, but was quick to find a chair. One of those tall ones. I sat there and enjoyed the music. I actually did enjoy the music, not just tolerate it or try to enjoy it. This really was a nice tanda. Funny. Now the 'you should dance' wasn't coming from the head. It was my body that just wanted to dance. »Ladies and gentlemen... ultima tanda,« said a voice from the speakers. Ah, yes. Ultima. The famous ultima. It's an exquisit name for the last tanda. Girls would always discuss their ultimas. I had never danced an ultima before. I will confess that seating thru ultima sometimes felt like being single and home alone on Valentine's day. So, regardless of all the beautiful moments I would have during the whole milonga, sitting through ultima would diminish those moments' shining. As my mind chatted on, I guess I moved my head a bit to the side. I saw Barbara R. She was standing there looking at me. She smiled. I knew Barbara from Tabor milongas and a couple of classes. She was one of the golden Slovenke tribe that would do me the honor and dance with me at milongas here in Poreč. Wait – she's not just smiling – it's a mirada! So I had my first ultima. Dancing with Barbara was light-hearted and lovely in every way. When the last song was over, everybody on the dance floor gave a big applause to the DJ. I clapped like a little boy at a magician's show and kept looking at Barbara. I was all thankful. Oh to finish the night with the last song, standing and applauding on the dance floor... a cherry on top. Returning to the alfa area where Marko, the girls and I had set camp that evening, I felt like coming home from a good day at work. Or from a good evening at the gym, the pool, a sweet date, an overseas holiday trip, a successful business meeting, you name it. Sanja, Agnieszka, Marko and I gathered, changed shoes and all that, did the kissing & hugging protocol with the rest of the familiar faces and we were off to home. I felt complete. Exhausted in many ways but wonderful. It was sunny outside. Summer in full bloom. People jogging, going to buy groceries, walking dogs, washing their cars... the usual stuff people do on a Sunday morning when on holidays at the seaside... after they had a good night's sleep, that is. Life was buzzing all around us as we returned to the apartment. We would not go to sleep. Instead we made breakfast and coffee. Marko played more tango music. There were so many impressions to be shared. We had collectively experienced over twenty hours of embraces. Surely we would not finish the sharing in one.
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AuthorBlaz B, social tango dancer since February 2015. I'm sharing these posts to inspire future tango beginners, to encourage today's beginners and to possibly entertain those dancers, who have already become regulars at tango heaven.
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