Only two types of music in the world Each morning, after the milonga, we would have breakfast and coffee on the terrace, and Marko would play tango music. This morning was no different. This was our last full day in Poreč. I felt I was impregnated with tango to my bones. These guys were all about tango. We either danced at the milongas, attended classes, listened to the music, practiced just about anywhere - anytime, talked about tango (these people never run out of tango talk)... Tango was the DNA of our days and nights. 'Normal' started to feel like a past life. Still, I would try to bring in some break from all that tango. »Marko?« »Yes, Blaž?« »I wonder... do you mind playing some none-tango music?« »No, of course not. What would you like to hear?« »Oh, I don't know. What do you have?« I moved my chair closer to be able to see on Marko's computer screen. »Here. You can see if you like something. But I mostly have tango music.« I scanned through the folder structure.
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My first international tango friend That afternoon I attended a class called 'Destructuring the structured' by Guillermo Barrionuevo & Mariela Sametband. I came solo. Still a bit down after that 'All levels' class, I was hoping to find somebody nice and not too advanced for my level. There were a couple of followers there who also came solo. I hooked up with an elderly lady. We had our warm-up dance. It wasn't bad. She was nice. The class was useful and not too demanding. I could follow quite easily. We took the basic milonga 'square' pattern and played inside that. I enjoyed it. My self-confidence was restored. I even had a little dance with Mariela. She was gorgeous to be in an embrace with. Maybe I did belong in this world. In the next exercise we were grouped into 4 couples, all doing the same walking in the shape of a diamond, switching position with the couple in front of us. It was not an easy one, but my partner and I managed quite well. Then there was some unusual commotion, involving one tall guy. My partner walked over to see what was going on. A petite Asian lady approached me. She told me her partner, the tall guy whom she just met here at the workshop, claimed he could not work with her. Before I knew it, I had a new partner. My former one volunteered to become partners with the demanding tall guy.
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. You know that motivational bit »When have you last done something for the first time?« Well, ever since I started dancing tango more 'seriously', there's been so many first times it's hard to keep count! But I wish not to write about Poreč til the next Poreč :) I'll wrap it up by only giving account of the most memorable moments, as if they all happened in one night. My first pair of tango shoes
I have been keeping my eye on the Shopping district for the past two nights. They sold shoes and pants and shirts. Not just any kind but tango fashion. I had made a deal with myself to treat myself to some dancing shoes, only when I would be able to honestly say that tango is not just another fad, another nine days wonder. Now that moment has come. This tanguero needs proper shoes! I stopped by the Turkish stand. A simple black shoe caught my attention. I love buying stuff from men with strong black beards. They are fierce negotiators! You get to spend money on the product, but negotiations lessons come for free. Well, sort of anyway :) Thirty minutes later, there I was, a new man. Double-silk black milonguero trousers. White shirt. And a brand new pair of black chamois leather shoes. The sales-man looked at me as if I was a model. He looked pleased with his products and the way they made me look good. He threw in a leather bag for shoes and a leather belt for good measure. My friends told me I had made a good deal. Dancing from the future
As we were getting into the embrace, Sanja wanted to know how my night had been so far. I said fine, then mentioned the Russian grazie woman. She took a step back, her jaw dropped: »She did what!? That bitch!« And that was just the start of Sanja's holy anger. As she was 'fighting' the bad russian woman, we embraced again. I liked the song. It was both jolly and somehow swingy. And also quite strong. Which was perfect for me. I could do something musically out of just walking. I started with a humble front step. No drama. And then I continued. It was going pretty good, I thought. I even ventured to - »I did the cross,« Sanja interrupted her speech on ungrateful followers who think they only deserve skilled leaders since they have been dancing »already« for 2 years while not taking clasess anymore because when a good leader compensates their poor technique well now sure they think they dance great but it's not reality and oh – oh they forget so quickly they were beginners themselves not so long ago they are in fact still beginners because... She was quite a chatter-box. I was surprised I hadn't notice this about her before. But I was even more surprised to see that her mouth was in no way interrupting her body. She danced as if her body had a mind of his own. She was totally there. No, I didn't want her to shut up. I actually enjoyed the shower of angry words. I realized I myself was not really angry at the russian-looking grazie woman. At least not anymore. I was safe in this embrace. Vesna I was overwhelmed by the space. The diameter of ronda was enormous and the volume of human souls dancing was breathtaking. Perhaps that's why I was barely breathing while dancing. The tanda with Vesna was nice. We're friends and knowing my skill-level, she didn't expect much. My choreography was simple. I lead only walking with an occasional cross. After leading a cross I would ask, if she did it, to which Vesna would reply: »Ah, you wanted me to make a cross?« Apart from crosses I also did my best with some back-ochos. The success rate was even lower than with crosses. But none the less, Vesna seemed to have fun. Vesna had been the only one that I danced with a couple of times in the 10 months during my first attempt at learning tango and this year's new beginning. Returning from the dancefloor I was happy to hear a groovy cortina play. It felt like somebody spoke my language in a foreign country. After Vesna, other Slovene ladies would accept my cabeseo: Katja, Lučka, Barbara R... I felt blessed to know so many followers kind enough to indulge me with a dance. My first international festival tandas were interrupted only by Chicho Frumboli's and Juana Sepulveda's show. We would all sit around them while they performed. Juana's leg, drawing circles on the floor, was a thing of beauty.
The Ritual (before milonga) I didn't even dance one tanda at the pool milonga. I wish I could say I was too easy-going to dance, that I was just hangin' out with people, sun-bathing, taking a little dive in the pool... in fact I did all that. But in truth I was terrified to go into the 'polenta', as Peter calls these overly-crowded milongas. Just by looking at the skilled dancers, who were able to move in almost zero proximity to the surrounding couples, made me absolutely not want to get myself in there. Finally the pool milonga ended. We got into the car and drove to a supermarket. It was decided that today the girls would cook and Marko and I would take care of the dishes afterwards. Back at the apartment the ladies started cooking. I respected them for their speed and effectiveness, which is usually the case with women and kitchen. Our apartment came with a nice big balcony. Marko put his laptop on the balcony table and started playing tango music. My eyes rolled to the back of my head – really, more tango music? Poreč: a lovely family-friendly town on the Croatian coast. It takes only 2 hours by car from Ljubljana. It's the height of summer, the air full of salt and scent of pine trees.
We arrived at our apartment around lunchtime, quickly decided who gets to sleep where (I've never experienced this to be a long procedure), unpacked the suitcases and packed only our small backpacks. We were in a hurry: I had a class to attend! We jumped back to the car and drove to the hotel resort; the classes were held at the luxury hotel whose name escapes me... At the registration desk I was kindly reminded that I still had to pay for the class I was about to attend. I told the lady I was skeptical, since the programme first said it was an Advanced class. Out of nowhere, Goran appeared and assured me it was actually an All levels class. I explained I'm a beginner, attending the class without my partner and I really needed to be sure it was OK I join the class. Again, Goran said it was perfectly fine and the class was gender balanced so I would find my partner there. I said OK, paid for the extra class and got ready. The rest of the team had a free afternoon, so they went to the beach. Ever since Alberto Goldberg's class on musicality, I wanted to attend more musicality classes. Keeping my focus on music and off my choreography, results in a relief that somehow makes my dance more fluid and my choreography better, not worse. This musicality class was led by Moira and Gaston, supposedly big names in the tango scene. Surely big enough for me! As the class began, my eyes searched the room to find a follower who also came solo. There were a few to choose from. I only saw one, really. She had dark hair, beautiful complexion and smiled expectantly. We approached one another. »Kama,« she introduced herself. I remember how thrilled Mateo was a year ago, returning from Poreč and giving me a detailed report about his first tango festival there, the famous Mediteranean summer tango festival.
Mateo's report in short: it was amazing on and off the dancefloor. Diabetes-level of sweetness all around, fun, sun, sea, beautiful ladies from all around the world, partying on a boat and all that tango. A year ago tango meant almost nothing to me. So I had been happy for him but never imagined I would've enjoyed it too. Now I remembered the stories from a new perspective; a perspective of possibility that I too might enjoy tango craziness over-load. Early June, but July was already announcing itself with rising temperatures and less classes to attend in Ljubljana. Everybody in our tango community was talking about this year's Poreč. The talk revolved around the topics of:
Poreč was in the air but I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I felt no pull towards it in my belly, so I remained passive and observed the hype. Soon Mateo asked me if I was coming. I said I didn't know. Gradually over the next days I went from »I don't know« to »maybe,« and then to »probably,« followed by »most likely.« I was included in several Facebook chats where Poreč was discussed. When I finally decided that I would go, everybody has already hooked up with somebody to share apartments. |
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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