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. It must have been around 3AM and I was running out of the good and kind Slovene ladies. Sure, I would still try to cabeseo them for a second tanda, but they somehow didn't seem to notice my efforts. I didn't blame them. There were tons of amazing leaders to dance with. So I took a little stroll around the danceflor, behind the line separating those seating and those dancing. I was surprised to see this whole thing was not how I imagined tango parties. There were barely any old people here. Just the young and beautiful. Some girls looked 18, some looked 68, but everyone was somewhere in between. I felt kinda lost without my Barbara... Supernaturals I almost came full circle. I was trying to muster the courage to ask somebody new to dance. The thought was terrifying. But still I held on to it; the thought of having to sit and wait for the next three hours was even more terrifying. So I was gently scanning the ladies with my eyes. I didn't look at any one of them specifically. At milonga, a man does not get to just look at women. They seem to be supernaturally sensible. They can feel they have someone's eyes on them and would return the look immediately in most cases. If you look at the woman, it's not just looking. It's a mirada. Which means you are very seriously entertaining the thought of asking her to dance. One would assume it was safe to look at them from behind. But no, they would turn around and look at you directly in the eye, these supernatural creatures. Ego armor I saw a tall Russian-looking lady in her late 40s, early 50s. We just happened to meet with our eyes. I was not planning to meet her. But there it was, the mirada. She was returning my gaze. It must have taken me at least 3 seconds before I realized we were not just looking at each other. Before I managed to make a conscious choice, my head nodded and she nodded back. A cabeseo, done by the book. She accepted to dance with me. She even smiled a little. Little did she know... I approached her, offering my hand and took her to the dance floor. She walked graciously, as did I. We embraced, inch by inch, bit by bit. I felt like we were tuning an expensive Swiss watch. Our hearts met, our fingers entwined, my right hand finding a place on her back, her left hand choosing its spot on mine. I shifted weight, she followed. I applied all I remembered from musicality classes and prepared my body to go with the first song playing. Up to that point, I was certain I had had her believe she was about to experience something possibly quite amazing. A side-step, performed with suspense like you would expect from a pro. She followed perfectly. Well, and then I had no more drama to perform, so I did my best with the following steps. She followed quite well. Then we bumped into the couple next to us. Minus 50 points for my lead. To cover up my poor spatial awareness, I led a cross, which she actually did! At least it's what I thought... I didn't dare to ask. I dared even less to go for a back-ocho. At the end of the first song, she loosened the embrace and looked at me with suspicion, then asked: »How long you been dancing?« I answered truthfully, knowing the truth was sure to make the biggest impact: »Since February. This year.« The second song played. Hesitantly, she closed the embrace again, offered less heart and it seemed to me she gave in to her destiny. The dance of the first song was not fun, nor was it particularly pleasant. The dance of the second song was worse. As the song ended, she looked at me as if I had tried to sell her a used car in a poor condition. »Grazie,« she said, turned on her heel and walked off the dancefloor. Too bad. I would happily escort her. I wasn't much of a dancer, but I still had some gallantry about myself. As I was returning to the Slovene district, my ego armor pierced from the sound of 'grazie,' I met Irena.
»What happened,« she asked. »A russian-looking lady. She left me standing on the dance floor after the second song,« I admitted. »Really? Oh no, that is no way to treat anybody!« »That's okay... I guess...« »Come! Let us finish this tanda properly,« said Irena and took me to the dance floor by the hand. God bless you, Irena. God bless you, Slovenke. After the half tanda with Irena (which was not particularly great, although not for her lack of trying or skill), I decided it was time I sat down and possibly retire for the night. Some say they are also happy just enjoying the music and watching other's dance. I was desperate enough to give it a go. Then Sanja came by. Her mirada was very obvious. I looked at her, probably with a devastated expression on my face. But she was doing the mirada using her whole body and her eyes so alive– I was already on my feet, with a goofy expression adorning my face. She laughed and behaved as if tango was not serious business. I did get serious, though. Dancing with a teacher is never a small thing.
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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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