After eleven years living, dancing, teaching tango, and writing in Buenos Aires, I came home to L.A. in 2014, where I'm reconstructing my life.
Friday, June 13, 2008
The truth is, there's not a whole lot to do at night in Mendoza after dinner and a bottle of delicious Malbec. (The same is true for all day on Sunday.)
Ruben and I naturally went out in search of tango. Saturday night has to have some tango somewhere in an Argentine city, right? We took a taxi to one place that was a little cafe-theater, another place was a tango show, the third place we decided to check out no matter what: Tajamar, San Martin 1921. Lots of people crammed in a small art-filled space, eating dinner waiting for the one-woman show to begin. We got a table at the corner of the stage and ordered a bottle of, what? Malbec!
Jessica Torrijos came out dressed as a tanguera (an Argentina's basic uniform of slinky black dress and fishnets?) and began her show, Mentiras, which was a kind of Vagina Monologues without the anatomical details. Changing costumes onstage, Jessica was every type of woman from Laura Ingalls Wilder to Ugly Betty, and I understood the jokes! I got it! I was rolling on the floor laughing with Ruben and the rest of the audience! I felt great! Humor is the last to come in a foreign language.
So we went back to our B&B tired from laughing (and the Malbec), and we planned to find tango the next night, Sunday.
And we did, at Cafe Soul, San Juan 456. And what luck, it was the milonga's (organized by Ana y Luis) second anniversary and there was live music, El Orquestra de los Hermanos Lucesole, and Ernesto Balmaceda y Stella danced three tangos and a vals to celebrate the end of their weekend workshop.
It was a big night out for the Mendoceno milongueros, and for us, too. If there were only one milonga a week where you lived, I bet you'd be sure to be there as well.