Perth Tango Embrace

Our last trip to B.A seems to be so far away gone, yet it made such an indelible impression on our structured life style! In the summer of 2004-2005, our expectations ran wild for, Cecil and me, while preparing for this journey to the promised land! As our trip grew closer, we gathered hosts of information on renowned ‘milonguero’ teachers in particular, as well as Milonga venues. Learning Latin American Spanish became our motto few months prior to our departure. Our aim on this special adventure, was to discover and understand the real essence of tango and the culture surrounding it.

As the days grew closer, we were inundated by well-meaning “do’s and don’ts” from tanguero friends who did previous trips to the Tango land. After a day long journey via Auckland and Chile, mixed with anxiety and trepidation, we passed B.A. customs with flying colours. Next test was to obtain the correct taxi at the correct stand in the Airport, as was advised by one of our friends. In the back of my mind came flooding all the horrible mishaps that befell some of the unwise or unlucky tourists hopping in the deceitfully labelled taxis! A ‘Remise’ (privately owned car) was called for us. In no time we were whisked away from the airport to our apartment in Anchorena Street.

Lining the vast avenues from the airport, lush green vegetation provided a most restful and welcoming backdrop on that sunny evening. Couples and families enjoyed intimate picnics in the last sun rays. The view changed rapidly to dreadful squalid towers with dilapidated street facades. The contrast with the other side of the freeway was flagrant. Wealthy looking mansions glowed in the last glorious summer rays marking the scene for what we were to encounter during our stay.

Our private chauffeur who spoke some English was keen to share few anecdotes with us. Once he left the freeway, his driving skills metamorphosed into an erratic dance, negotiating his way with horns and speed, through line of cars. Red lights were the only adhered-to-road signs by all drivers. Otherwise, pedestrian crossing (cross at your own risk), right of way, marked lanes vanished as dusk descended upon this vibrant chaotic city. We hanged on to our seat belts, fortunately existent in that car, and made it in one piece to the apartment.

Apart from fearing for our own safety whilst riding in taxis, they became our saviour during our 6 week stay in B.A., as Cecil couldn’t do much walking due to previous knee injury. These black and yellow vehicles were a cheap and convenient commodity, whenever we required them, right in front of our door step. Naturally Cecil and I became adept at spotting the correct ones- radio taxis. Between our broken Spanish and their broken English, we engaged in some very fascinating mono-syllabic conversation about the country, its culture, its people and of course its dance. We got an insight into the locals’ perception of the tango dance itself. Certain old established taboos are still pervasive among some sections of the community. We even met a taxi driver turned tango dancer at night.

Vivid in our mind, is Ramon, colourful and eccentric, in his battered-looking taxi, he took us around on few occasions, sharing about his social love life and life in general. A guy in his late fifties, keen on Salsa dancing until 4 in the morning, starting work at 7 a.m. How does he do it? The last time we stepped out of his car, we felt relieved to be still alive. Through midday- mad-rush city, Ramon weaved his way to Confiteria Ideal, one of the land marks in B.A., with one hand on the wheel, head turned toward us, showing with the other hand, photos of his young girlfriends. A very busy affectionate man.

Looking after one’s own safety is paramount when travelling in big densely-populated cities, particularly with high unemployment rate. The pieces of advice we received regarding jewellery, bags and money were duly taken on board, as these were not only reinforced in the travellers’ guide book, but by the locals themselves. Walking down the large avenues of B.A, the unaware tourist used to structures, law and order, faces a great culture shock.

The contrast between what used to be and is, between the have and have- nots present a visual and visceral shock to the system. Strolling down Florida Avenue, one of the fashionista arteries of the city, can create quite an uncomfortable experience when one is not used to be constantly bombarded by eager pedlars; harassed by hungry sale agents, or over-zealous taxi-door-helpers, all trying to make a living. As darkness wraps up the wealthily adorned shop windows, homeless shadows make their way stealthily under the large over-hangs along the pavement. A city of contrast asleep.

On the brighter side of this ever-effervescent artery, entrepreneurial buskers, particularly Tango dancers display their artistic prowess. Tourists are constantly entertained. Their avid senses titillated by the ever-vibrant-treats on offer at Borges Cultural Centre, Galeria Pacifico and a plethora of mouth-watering confiterias.

Another culture shock for Cecil and me was B.A night life. We were taken by surprise to hear people in our apartment block, living loudly until 2 in the morning, every day of the week. How do they make it to work every day is a puzzle! On the other hand we were aware of Milongas starting at 11p.m till 4 in the morning. We attended few of these mainly because we were eager to be entertained by excellent shows by the top Argentine performers as well as living life like an Argentine.

Discovering the ‘real tango’ was by far a harder task than we had imagined. “Milonguero” style dancing as advertised by the magazines were mostly glittering words on a piece of paper, attracting the unaware tourists. One needs to have a sound prior knowledge of Tango and an understanding of its various styles before travelling to B.A., we felt. Meeting with local tangueros and teachers, we learned that the essence of Tango is passed on mainly and only from Argentine maestros to their Argentine students. These classes are not advertised to the hordes of tourists who descend on this city, preying on the exotic, cheap lifestyle and glitter tango form.

In our quest for the essence of Tango, we also found out that not all Argentines, as erroneously believed, dance the Tango. Only 3 to 5 percent in a city of 15 million inhabitants. Though originating from the slums of Buenos Aires, it is only in the last 15 years that this dance regained popularity in its own land after obtaining great ovations abroad for its flamboyant shows. It would be fair to say that there are more passionate, frenzy Tango dancers and promoters around the world than in Argentine itself. In the last 15 years, tango has developed into a very lucrative commercial commodity in Argentina and abroad due to economic and entrepreneurial reasons. While some genuine Argentine teachers have been true to its essence and ethics, the same cannot be intimated for a plethora of overnight-turned-teachers, eager to earn a living from the overly- eager- generous tourists.

Having learned the art of this dance for 6 years prior to our trip, Cecil and I detected very quickly the unethical so- called- teachers with whom we wasted no time, nor money. However the unaware or naïve tourist-students, spilling out of these classes more confused than when they started, their mind full of fancy- figures- soon –to- be- forgotten, remain locked in the same stage of their dance. A hybrid tango.

Finding the ‘real ‘tango’ in B.A. is like finding an original art piece by its maker. Once this gem is found, you recognise the real artist and you would not desire to go for its copies. Our search led us to some great milonguero maestros like Ana Shapria, Susana Miller, Maria Plazolla, Carlos Gavito and last but not least Raoul Cabral, whose class consisted only of local Argentines. It was pure joy to be with a small group of Argentine tangueros and experience the dance from ‘within’ first – musicality, phrasing, pausing etc…We felt quite at home, Cecil and I, sharing a common language – the embrace, the connection from within with the music.

At the end of our journey in the birthplace of Tango, we carried home memories of a warm, loving, passionate people, proud of their country and its inheritance despite their economic struggles. The dance continues to echo the people’s joy, love and sorrows as it did since its beginnings. That is the essence of the Tango. A dance from the soul.

Tags: Travel Anecdotes Tango Myths Buenos

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