There is always a song for every occasion
It was during a tanda at the Tango Mundial that I remembered that I had come to Buenos Aires to learn tango. I had spent days imaging how many classes I would take, how many Milongas I would go to, and the vampiric lifestyle I would be leading. But somehow the city has instead crawled under my skin and ingrained me in a life where tango is the main lifeline, but not the primary goal of my day to day living.
Later on in the evening, I was asked if I had any semi conclusions about the “success” of my time in Buenos Aires. It is significant that, after some time to think about it and while I was being driven (in true porteño style) through the darkened streets of this city I love, my answer was delivered completely in Spanish.
Having been here four months, I have had time to develop friendships with people. I have favourite coffee and Milonga haunts. I look forward to seeing certain people and familiar faces at Milongas. I have dancers that I like to dance with. There are gigs with folk music, rock music, poetry readings and tango music that I can go and see each night. I look forward to the monthly Milongas and the weekend ferias. I have felt the pulse of the city at various hours of the day and can now recognize the time of day by the feel of the city. Well, except for the hours between eight am and mid day. I’m pretty consistent in being asleep during that time.
I distinctly remember the days where I began to feel part of the tango community in Auckland and I am now feeling that here in Buenos Aires. It probably helps that I have a tanguera to partner me to the weekday Milongas when significant others need to be at home resting for their day jobs, and I shall miss her when she goes, but hope her desire to come back holds strong.
My love for this city has developed as a true relationship, with it’s beginnings in over the top infatuation and romance, and currently sitting in a place where the good, bad, ugly, beautiful, tragic, frustrating, wonderful, grey and colourful characteristics are what make me love this place so much. I feel that there is so much creativity in this city, where artists still fight against some system, drink wine at three in the morning while discussing the ins and outs of social politics, where you can find lifestyles from the eighties and nineties without the stigma of it being done to be cool, where old men gather to play dominoes while drinking coffee and dish out Pool advice to two young women who come to play on grey wintery afternoons. The grunge loving photographer in me is having a field day with all this concrete.
One thing that stood out the most from my 1am Spanish ramblings was that I am not done with this city.
It wants more from me and I want to find more of myself in it.
Even if the coffee is bad.
hey Rebecca you should write a book of your time there , great reading. I think I’m falling for the place.
Got room for the old folks ?
Of course! Come over!