Archive for March, 2006

Across a smoky, dimly lit room, the eyes of two strangers meet. She holds his gaze as he nods and she nods in return. Rising from his chair he crosses the floor to her table and extends his hand. Accepting it, she accompanies him to the dance floor. Her first time to Buenos Aires, she speaks little Spanish. He, a Porteño (native of Buenos Aires), speaks little English. No matter, they both speak Tango.

Entering into an embrace, they sway slightly to the music – sensing it, sensing each other and then, two individuals seduced by the music, become captives of the dance as they navigate in unison across a crowded floor.

The rules and the etiquette of the dance are understood. The man, fully in his masculine, leads. The woman, the epitome of the feminine, follows. A masterful lead is sensitive, skillful and confident. The woman is expected to gracefully surrender.

After one tanda (a set of 3 or 4 songs), strangers no more, they return to their respective tables. They have experienced ‘the vertical expression of a horizontal desire’. This is the nature of Argentine Tango.

In February 2006, I took my first trip to the Motherland of Tango – Buenos Aires. In any country with a language other than your own, you must rely on other forms of communication to understand and to be understood. It was fairly easy, although sometimes frustrating, to get by by on a daily basis in stores, restaurants and taxis with pointing, miming and speaking broken Spanglish. While in Buenos Aires my traveling companion and I skimmed the surface of human interaction – the superficial, the logistical, the mundane – by making all kinds of interpretations based on little knowledge, context and assumptions. Many people go through their entire life interacting in this manner.

My companion and I explored several methods of communication – resorting to our mutual spoken language to make sense of the other ways in which we, and others, communicated. Deeper, analytical and heartfelt, intimate conversation requires mastery of one language or another and we were able to engage in this way with each other to add a greater dimension to our already profound travel experience.

Taking lessons of any kind in another language can be a challenge. We were not as successful in our attempts to understand verbal instructions as we were with just mimicking the movements of the dance. Sometimes we were fortunate to have the instructor lead (or back lead) us through the steps. Sometimes the instructor, or a fellow student willing to translate, spoke English. I preferred to listen to the Spanish, watch the movements and then attempt to repeat. Although helpful, I often found the English translation distracting from my full foreign experience.

I had been told in advance to expect the Latin men to ‘appreciate’ me as a woman on the streets. According to a Porteña house-mate, the rate at which this happens apparently correlates with the state of the economy. As the economy in Buenos Aires slowly and steadily improves since the crash of 2001, the men are working and less depressed and the compliments have increased accordingly. What they mutter under their breath in Castellano (Spanish) as they pass by may be an appreciation, a suggestion, a request for money – I don’t know. What I do understand is the motorcyclist blowing a kiss as he passes by and I express my gratitude for his gift of appreciation with a smile.

Whether strangers from different Americas, two genders from different planets, or family living in the same house, we have all experienced the difficulty of effective communication. Daily, we are prone to using too many words, or maybe not enough – speaking superficially, unconsciously, and when it comes to expressing our deepest thoughts, desires, feelings and beliefs, we stumble around . . . grasping for ways to be understood. We try to protect ourselves and the the other, sometimes we, unfortunately, try to manipulate and hurt the other. We try to remember what we learned from the last great book we read on communication. We strive to inform and entertain. We try to create something meaningful. This is always a challenge.

If we are not authentic, if all parts of ourselves are not in alignment, we are likely to be sending mixed messages and people will be confused by us. At some level we feel contradictions and it results in us not fully trusting each other. We are prone to making too many assumptions, forgetting to maintain a respectful curiosity, resorting to familiar, less mature ways of communicating during times of stress – thereby, no longer engaging in loving communion.

A look in someone’s eyes can speak love or it can destroy you. A young friend said, “my mother doesn’t hit me anymore but she still has that look in her eyes . . . “. We’ve likely all given and received the look that could kill, seen ‘the deer in the headlights’ look, experienced the look of unconditional love. The eyes alone speak volumes. Add to that facial expression, body posturing, gesticulation and energetic ‘vibe’ and one has to wonder why we even need the verbal vocabulary that we so often struggle with.

My days are often filled with too many words. Too many superfluous words. Many of which I no longer understand the need for. Our language has deteriorated along with much of the rest of our culture. I makes me sad. My head is filled with so much inane chatter – to fill the space – to establish some sense of significance. I long for silence. I long for connection. I long for meaning. So I dance.

I love the dance. I must forget everything else and focus my attention almost entirely on surrendering to my partner, the music and the steps. Habitual worries leave the room. Conversation becomes difficult. I must pay careful attention to each man’s individual ‘dialect’ through energy and movement. A man must sense his partner, understand the music, maneuver through floor traffic and concentrate on the current move while planning in advance the next. A gender generally unaccustomed to multi-tasking, this is understandably more than most men can handle. Therefore, there is often a lack of men to dance with. Of those who do, sadly, many do badly.

When a woman is swept off her feet by a skillful dancer her whole self melts into the experience of him. The result is worth his effort. With the body of a woman pressed against him, surrendering in his arms to his every move, he is in charge and she becomes attentive – an active listener. Surrender, for a woman who is used to multi-tasking and leading an independent life, is often difficult and less than what she is willing to do. To be led with skill into a state of ecstasy, to be ravished and filled with love is the wish of the feminine.

My first night back in Calgary I went to a milonga (a tango dance party). It was refreshing to be able to ask a man to dance directly and have him ask me. No more playing by the codigos (codes) of the Buenos Aires tango game. Although the etiquette is slightly different, the rules of the dance apply. The assertion of lead and the surrender of follow are maintained in most forms of couples’ dance universally and thus we retain some remnant of the delicious interplay of traditional masculine and feminine in spite of the pervasive drive toward gender equality and neutrality.

When my traveling companion left the milonga early, a smile on his mouth but not in his eyes, he didn’t have to tell me the sadness he was feeling. I understood. We had experienced something beyond what words could express. We had shared an extraordinary experience that would leave us forever bonded and changed. Together we had visited the home and heart of the Argentine Tango. Together we had engaged in an intimate communion beyond words.