Tango, Twilight, Lincoln Center and a Crescent Moon

Yesterday I took my first tango class.  Having parents who were raised in Argentina, you'd figure I'd have had some kind of exposure to the dance before this, but my most marked memories of it were of Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman, blind and beautiful, leading the lovely young woman effortlessly around the dance floor.

So when my girlfriend of forever (I won't tell you how long so as to not date myself) suggested we go into Manhattan to the dance school where Al Pacino learned those moves, I was mildly intrigued but not breathless with anticipation.  Turns out that is the best condition for me (and you) because with no real expectations I was just completely open to the experience, not directing how it should go.

The lesson started inauspiciously with a diminutive teacher who bore a vague air of a benevolent Wicked Witch of the West teaching us for what seemed like a LONG time to shift our weight from one leg to another, then use that skill to walk back and forth in the dance room.  Was this it?  Walking I know how to do (though for some inexplicable reason, when she did it it looked like a whole different activity), so I was beginning to get a little restless and bored.  Suddenly she announced we would pair up and practice with partners.  Now we were talking!

The pairing up did not turn out to be nearly as exciting as I anticipated it would be (at first).  My first partner was a fourteen year old boy a full foot shorter than I am, hardly the dashing tango master of my dreams.  In fact, most of the men were (you guessed it) beginners, many lacking in rhythm but most of them making up for it with a good sense of humor.  The revelation came when, after several clumsy attempts I let myself go and really FELT the music, pressing my hands into the chest of my partner, slightly leaning in, as we were told to do at first to learn to feel the rhythm.  I closed my eyes, letting go and trusting completely (no small feat for me) and learned a magical lesson - I could FEEL what his next move was going to be, I could stop and start with him, even turn and be moved by the music.  It was magical!  It was a metaphor for life, this needing to let go and trust and being so much more in the flow as a result of it.

I learned many other things, some funny.  For example, by switching partners and dancing with just about every man in the room I got confirmation of something I learned a long time ago - men never think they're wrong.  It's one of their strengths, really, this learning how to externalize problems so that they're never at fault.  I'm sure it does wonders for their self esteem.  It makes them, for the most part, lousy dance partners.  Every man, to the last, used every time they stepped on my feet as an opportunity to say, "You need to take longer steps."  At first I thought it was me, until I confirmed with my girlfriend that she got the same thing from every guy too.

Then, through that wonderful magic that happens when you're not looking, we heard buzz that Midsummer Night's Swing was going on in Lincoln Center, a few blocks away from the studio, and that they were featuring open-air tango.  We strolled over in the perfect summer evening and saw a large crowd, a raised platform full of an assortment of people, from the die-hards with the professional tango shoes, outfits and pre-requisite slicked back hair and buns, to the pink-haired college students who moved clumsily to the music and laughed.  A wonderful orchestra from Buenos Aires played beautiful tangos while my friend and I watched.  Suddenly, a stranger came up and asked me to dance - his dancing was good, far better than my clumsy, post-first-class skill, and he was gentle and encouraging.  Before I knew it he had me doing twirls and turns more advanced than I had learned in class.  I thanked him and then he danced with my friend.  He went around, enjoying the night, asking willing women to dance, dancing with us each twice.  It was a joy of sensation, music, air, beauty, passion for dance, happiness in just being.

As with all the joyful moments of my life I learned a lot, too much to capsulize in a few short sentences, but I'll try:

In life, "just being" always beats "planning to be".
When you step on someone else's toes, look within before telling them to take longer steps.
When you get asked to dance, dance even if you're not all that good.
And go into New York City every single chance you get.