Desencuentro - Missed Encounter

I created another journal, but now with a different company (it's on typepad). I haven't had time to write that much, but every time I listen to the song Desencuentro I think about writing. Desencuentro or Missed Encounter talks about a recurrent theme in tango music. The pain that results from being deceived by people, by life, by G-d.

I first heard the song when I was watching Si Sos Brujo. Si Sos Brujo is an amazing documentary about tango music. The effort of one person to keep the old (tango from the Golden Era) tango alive. His project deserves an entire post, but I will briefly say that it's an amazing project and his efforts are memorable.

Getting back to Desencuentro. It was composed by Catulo Castillo, the same composer of El Ultimo Cafe (the song my Aunt Blanca used to sing with my uncle on the piano). Even though tango songs with lyrics are extremely hard to dance to, those are my favorite songs to dance to. Words are (to me) the way to understand the soul. In Desencuentro, the author says:

Estás desorientado y no sabés qué "trole" hay que tomar para seguir. Y en este desencuentro con la fe querés cruzar el mar y no podés. La araña que salvaste te picó -¡qué vas a hacer!- y el hombre que ayudaste te hizo mal -¡dale nomás!-Y todo el carnaval gritando pisoteó la mano fraternal que Dios te dio.

You are lost and you don't know what trolley to take and in this missed encounter with faith you want to cross the sea but you can't. The spider you saved has bitten you - what can you do? - the man you helped has hurt you - that's enough! - And all the carnival yelling stepped on your fraternal hand that G-d has given you.

 

These words are so intense. There's so much into one's heart when they get aggravated by doing good deeds and then they get paid back with pain and heartache. No, I don't believe that we should get anything back by doing good deeds. Being good is our responsibility. But it hurts a lot if after helping someone you feel like what you are getting in return is something bad like being used, for example. If you save the spider, let's hope that it doesn't sting you, right? But as I am finding out, it usually does and it's not pretty at all.

 

Then some very talented tango musician, nobody less than my Dear Pichuco, came up with a beautiful melody. DJ's don't usually play this song here in Florida. I find that most DJ's here have no idea how many beautiful tango songs are out there. The truth of the matter is that you need a lifetime just to enjoy and get to know of all the orchestras and what they have created. I don't know what other people feel when they listen to songs like Desencuentro (although what I feel when I listen to this song is not something that I can accurately describe), but I know for sure that you cannot dance to this song without any feelings. If you do, my guess is you are in the wrong type of dance. Tango is NOT a physical exercise. Tango dancing is a complex mix of emotional redemption and your soul pushing your body to move because you cannot contain all of that inside of you.

 

When I watched Si Sos Brujo, I saw the daughter of a famous musician interpreting Desencuentro. I can only say that her whole body sings the song, you can feel the song by watching her. I got teary eyed when I saw her hands moving like that. That IS tango. The exasperation of the soul trying to communicate. The frenetic movement of her hands telling people she cannot take it any longer. That life is huge and complicated and it sometimes baffles you. That you are tired. That people have deceived you and you have deceived people as well and that all of that hurts.

 

I cannot touch your soul. I cannot be you and feel anything for you. I can only listen to these songs and hope that one day we will be at the same milonga and you will ask me to dance. Then as if magic could happen, we will speak the language of the heart and our bodies will connect and live the sounds of an old Buenos Aires. We will express that sadness which the portenos know so well and we will embrace one last time to feel the intensity of a missed encounter.