We had just finished with the final class of Beginner's course, led by Janko and Mateja, when Janko put his hand on my shoulder and said: »I have one advice to give you now. You want it?« Janko had just recently became a father. His hand was warm and friendly, as was his intention. »Yes, of course!« I replied hastily. »OK. You see all these ladies here at the milonga,« Janko pointed at the women at the venue, »each milonga, you have to do them all. The pretty, the young and the old and the fat. Every single one of them. You have to dance a lot. This is how you will get good.« I nodded my head and hoped I didn't look too terrified. I didn't feel shy about asking these women to dance. I just felt that I had nothing to offer them. This was my math: a tanda consists of 4 songs. Each song is about 2 minutes and a half, sometimes more. That's a minimum of 10 minutes for a tanda. What do I do for 10 minutes?! Maybe if they played only introductions to songs, like they play trailers for movies, I could perform 4 times 30 seconds of interesting dance. I confessed my concerns to Mateo. He let me in on a secret: »There's a trick. You don't ask for a dance at the beginning of the first song. You go in on the second or even the third song. In this way, should the dance with a particular woman prove to be an unpleasant experience, you only have to endure some 5 minutes or so.« I though the advice was pure gold. I just had my big problem cut in half! But a half of a big problem is still a considerably large problem... ... A couple of weeks later, we had just finished a class with Sanja and Peter. We learned a few basic structures for milonga type of music, which was faster and demanded quicker and smaller steps. My mind was blown and my feet were confused and nervous... or was it the other way around?
My classmates made their way either to the bar or to the chairs, to change their shoes before leaving. A brave couple or two were still struggling to nail down the lesson of the day. In the mean time, advanced dancers were already coming in for a milonga and the prep team was making the place nice. I sat down next to Agnieszka, who had been helping out with the classes as assissting trainer, together with her partner Marko. She was sitting on the table, swinging her feet like a schoolgirl. There was an aura of stillness about her, which I find rare in tango dancers. For a while we didn't speak. »Will you go and ask somebody to dance,« she asked. I didn't hesitate to say: »No, not really. Yes, probably I will dance one tanda with Barbara and some other lady class mates, if they're still around later on.« Then I told her what advice Janko had just given me. She smiled and said it was good advice. »Why not ask somebody then?« There was no provocation in her voice. I told her about my remaining half of the big problem. She nodded her head, saying she understood. »Learning tango is so tough on the leaders. I'm happy I didn't have to go through it. It's easier for the followers. At least in the beginning.« »It's probably the most difficult thing I've ever tried to learn! Learning, say tai chi, is far easier. With tai chi, I only have myself to move about appropriately. And its rewards come more inwardly, no social pressure there.« »I am sure any woman here would love to dance with you,« Agnieszka said simply. My compliments radar was up. »You know, they understand,« she continued.« They know you're a beginner. They don't expect you to do anything fancy. It's not all about the moves, you know. For an enjoyable dance, it is enough to offer a nice embrace and to listen to your partner and make her feel safe and comfortable. And you have a nice embrace.« I was contemplating her words. Could it be true? Were not all tango ladies after the thrill of nearly dying in a man's embrace, being swept off their feet in the face of their leader' moves and commanding presence? And how would Agnieszka know about my embrace? We had never danced before, except when she was correcting me during class. But the way she said it, made me believe her words were sincere. A new possibility opened up in my mind. Maybe there was something I could give after all. Maybe there was a place in tango heaven for beginners. »So, do you want to dance,« a voice inside my being asked her. But no words came out of my mouth. Instead, I mumbled something resembling a 'thank you,' got off the table and chose to support my contemplation with some snacks from the bar. It was a cowardly move and she most likely knew it. I trusted my mind's opinion: I'm not ready yet to entertain anybody but my class mates. Or was I? A nice embrace, huh? Some courage arouse in me. Now I felt natural about taking action. I turned around too see if Agnieszka was still sitting there. But no, she accepted a cabeseo from somebody else. I didn't feel particularly bad about it. In a way I felt relieved. Long and winding is the road to my tango confidence. I am still grateful for that talk, sitting on the table. It took root in my psyche, as I would learn soon enough.
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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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