Tuesday, 15 April 2014

The simple things in life - a BsAs memory

Photo by Adrian Iacomi.

Buenos Aires in winter, at Villa Malcom, a milonga. I was with some friends talking, drinking a cola and wandering who to dance with, outside our own circle. It was not long before this thin, smiley gringa came to our table and greeted my friends. A tango dancer she was of course. Tall and with a dancer walk she was. She had just come back after a trip outside town, she felt a little rusty. All right, I said to myself. I invited her to dance, no cabeceo complexity involved.

She fumbled for her shoes, failed two times to tie them properly - lucky me, as that gave me time to forget I had not danced properly for more than four bloody long months. And there we were, with a big smile, face to face, preparing to enter the ronda. Closed my eyes were, I breathed in, extended, breathed out and she was in my embrace, we created the connection, so perfect that we started to breathe together and time seemed to had stopped, it was just us and d’Arienzo, and some faded buzz around.

We moved, all too simple, a short ocho milonghero and a planeo, then one more. We just stood there for a moment, enjoyed the embrace and breathed. The music had stopped suddenly. The first dance had finished so soon as time had frozen in a wonderful embrace. We danced a little more, not many figures as it was very crowded. The tanda was over fast, way too fast and we brooked the embrace and smiled at each other as two kids who just made a prank to the teacher. I was happy and so was she. It was a perfect tanda. 
Sitting at the table, we talked and I found out she had been dancing for just three months, a beginner as they say, but a perfect partner with a wonderful smile in a crowded milonga.

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