Perfect tanda

Things don’t always go to plan in life; for instance you would think that the length of time we have been here our circle of friends would be huge, but for some reason it is shrinking. True, we know lots of dancers, but we never meet up socially, those friends that we have had have all disappeared to other places or just left the country.  All except Philippe, that is, we can still rely on him calling around and just saying hello. He called this morning for a coffee and a chat, he also gets more information out of Sebastian than I possibly could. We found out why they have stuck with the awful colour in the foyer, for instance. Apparently they had a concorcio meeting and nobody could agree, same old, same old, so they just painted it the same as before.

Philippe exchanged watsapp with us so we can now get in touch again more easily. We drank a lot of coffee before he finally left, then it was time for us to get ready again.

We arrived extra early today at Nuevo Chique, Marcela just told us told us to go to our usual seats. The class was just finishing but some guy got Viv up anyway. I always thought that the sound gear belonged to the venue, but apparently not. Dany brought everything along with him apart from the speakers, which are mounted on the walls. He was soon set up so Viv and I did the first dance together.

The crowds had turned out today and for once there were more men than women. This did mean I missed the odd tanda, but, at least, Viv was happy. The standard of floorcraft was not good though and I was not the only one complaining. Jorge, an old stager and teacher in these parts, got Viv up to dance, and told her that many of these men could do with lessons.

I did have one near perfect tanda though. I got a lady up from the opposite side of the room to dance a tanda of Tanturi. As we danced I noticed that feeling of the room dancing with us. In front was a local couple who always dance together and behind me was a red faced man who always sits close to me and says hello. Well we danced around the room almost in sequence. I went out, they went in, I went in, they went out, we took almost no room but because we were so in tune we had all the space we needed. If only it could always be like this.

Funny how my bladder knows when it is Pugliese time, I got up to relieve myself and while I was out the Pugliese tanda came on. Such timing.

We did the last Vals tanda together and then changed our shoes. Isn’t it always the way? a Rodriguez tanda came on, Café Dominguez, Bugger. I am sure Dany does it on purpose. As Viv says though, “Every Tanda is one I want to dance”.

We called for coffee again at the Plaza. The table we usually sit at was occupied by two old women and some girls. One woman sat there displaying her pop socks with her legs open, and was cutting her finger nails without a care. Then she had her hands down her top hoiking her ample breasts up before resuming the nail cutting. I don’t think we can sit at that table again.

 

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Filed under Argentina, milonga, Tango

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