The Beauty of an Embrace

I have never been a big huger. Somehow I like having my own space and I don't like feeling trapped in anybody's arms. I think I show affection in different ways, other than hugging and touching people. People say that to dance tango you have to know how to hug. That may be true, but somehow I managed to learn the tango embrace without being able to hug everybody around me. The tango embrace doesn't make me feel trapped. On the contrary, it makes me feel alive. For some people, radical sports is what makes them feel alive. For me it is dancing tango that makes me feel completely alive. Tango is that extra-dosage of life I only get when I dance. No other dance does that for me. Sometimes it comes with a very intense urge to cry, or rather this strong passionate feeling that comes for being present in someone else's arms, feeling the music throughout my body. Tango caught me by surprise. I didn't know it was going to become so important in my life.

After much anticipation, I traveled to Buenos Aires last April, and I was nervous. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to get tandas* with locals and that worried me. I am certainly not the type of woman who dresses to impress or who undresses to be popular (not that I could even if I tried). I don't/didn't want to get dances just because I have been told I look pretty. I think any tango dancer who respects the dance wants to be invited to dance because she's a good dancer. 

Ironically as it may sound, I don't have a problem embracing a dance partner closely when we are dancing. As the old saying goes, you have to break the eggs to make an omelet, which means I have no choice and that's fine. As a matter of fact, if a guy doesn't have a good close embrace the dancing is not worth it *for me*. Being the super sensitive person that I am, I can feel and enjoy the music much more if I am in a close embrace. I am able to respond more vividly to the movements, I feel freedom. I like it when a guy is in charge, I find that sexy, not demeaning like a lot of feminists think. I don't equate that with control or power. Even though  it took me a while to understand that because I am very independent as well and learning how to cooperate with a man can be quite challenging for me, a close embrace has become my way of dancing.

So, there I was in Buenos Aires and I was at what's called the Cathedral of Tango. A beautiful space that hosts famous milongas that are famous all around the world. Great performers. Great music. Great atmosphere. It felt like all the milonga codes were alive. My first tanda was horrendous since I couldn't stop trembling in his arms. I tried to explain that to him in between songs, but I think he thought I was just a SUPER beginner. After our three songs together, he did bring me a business card talking about classes. I just threw the card away after briefly rolling my eyes. 

As the evening unfolded, I lived what it is to me one the most magical evenings of my life. Tango music was superb. I danced with all kinds of men. We didn't bump into anybody, even though the floor was very crowded. I got many compliments on my dancing and even though each embrace felt different, they all had one thing is common: the embraces that night made me feel secure and appreciated. I danced two tandas with a guy (he broke the code) because he asked me if I danced milonga and he wanted to dance a milonga tanda with me. Obviously I said YES! I was thrilled. And I remember him saying at the end of our tanda: that is Tango!

Other than him, the tanda I remember the most was with a guy I don't know the name and sometimes I wish I could call him and tell him to meet me somewhere for a tanda, casual tango I suppose. His embrace was cozy and inspiring. His eyes had a sparkle, but were somewhat sad eyes. He wasn't attractive. But there was something about the way he held me and danced that just made me want more. I felt guilty, but I tried not to think about that. We danced a tanda of three beautiful songs and I remember telling him out of embarrassment - for the dancing felt so wonderful - that I didn't know if it looked good. He said all he cared about was that it felt wonderful. Right there and then I felt like a queen. My heart was pulsing out of joy. All the effort I had put into classes, all the pain on my feet, all the struggles, all the criticism, all the arguments, all the reading I had done to understand tango as cultural entity, had been worth it.

Our last song was a dear song of mine: Solamente Ella. His embrace was again flawless. His lead clear, it felt like he knew what he was doing, how to take me places, how to turn, when and where to pause briefly. He didn't hesitate, the tanda was continuous and smooth. We followed the music. His embrace made me enjoy the three songs unequivocally. Amidst a crowd, we were just two strangers finding each other. And it was a very intense finding. It felt like I was dreaming. When the song ended, I was smiling profusely, not believing that had just happened. And the best of all, I saw him later looking at me and that was when I confirmed he had felt the same while dancing with me.

I went home at four a.m., never happier in my life.

*tandas are a set of three or four songs played back to back with short intervals.