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, July 16, 2010
Una Tanda Mas
Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. And today? Today is a gift.
That's why we call it the present.
--Babatunde Olatunji, founder of Drums of Passion
I never think of the future. It comes soon enough.
I hate to leave a milonga. I say to my friend, or to myself, Una tanda mas. Let’s not go yet--let’s see what will happen next.
I don’t want to leave the place where I feel most at home. I don’t want to leave the place where I know the rules, where I feel in control, where my skills are recognized and appreciated. In my heart I am always waiting to dance La Cumparsita, the traditional final tango, but I’m not in any hurry.
The tables of men who look like a casting call for The Godfather, the rows of sultry women smoking cigarettes with their legs crossed, the man who rhapsodize on the reasons you are so exquisite when you dance, the endless discussions of the music and orchestras, the men who “love” you and press their phone numbers into your hand, the teacher who tries every trick in his repertoire in order to make his partner want lessons with him, the elegant Maitre’ds who remember where you like to sit, the men who show off their fanciest steps in front of the tables of their friends and the other man who “loves” you, the waiters and waitresses who tirelessly kiss you hello and goodbye while serving you until dawn in the smoky salons, the women in the bathrooms who sell sexy tango clothes, the taxi drivers who sing tangos on the way to the milonga, the collective intake of breath with the first notes of Pavadita or the Pugliese tanda—this is my world now. And I love it.
I hope there will always be Una tanda mas for you and for me.
--from my unpublished memoir, The Church of Tango