Dancing in FlipFlops

I turned up to my first Tango lesson in flipflops. Tango afficiandos (esp the female ones) will probably recoil in horror because a flipflop to a pair of Comme Il Faut's are the equivalent of Loubatins to Phua Chu Kang's yellow construction worker rubber rainboots. A Flip-flop is aptly name for the name it makes, a "flip" and a "flop". A total opposite to the purpose of a Tango shoe.

Needless to say I've progressed from there.

Tango was something that I imagined as it has been portrayed in countless movies, the erect backs, the rose between the teeth, the opposite facing individuals, the constant dum-dum-dum-da-dum-dum beat heavy music as the dancers not so much glided as stomped whirlingly across a floor, heads snapping dramatically.

Such a case of mistaken identity.

In the short time I've been dancing, Tango has brought awkwardness, pain, joy, anticipation, trepidation and above all an obsessive compulsion for all things tango, all the time. My vocab has expanded to include exciting terms as Boleos, Ganchos, Sacadas and Ochos. But all I've had is 1/10 of the appetizer, it's a full course dinner for sure. Hopefully this first post will remind me that this is just the first step of a never-ending journey.

Now to work for those SHOES!

Comments

Stages

It's funny how I often think of topics to write at moments where I have nothing to write them on, which results in me typing a one-liner in my sms column as a trigger which later when I go back to refer to tends to make absolutely no sense to me! But yes anyway, Tango stages! 1) You have entirely NO idea what the hell the dance is about and walking seems like the most impossible thing to do. You jump up and down inside when you finally manage 5 meters w/o crashing into each other and are elated when the instructor comes over and leads you in a way that you actually feel like you know what you doing. You go away completely and utterly motivated to want to know more. 2) Basics are handed to you, ochos! impossible things! Molinete's! wtf, my legs can do that....omg leader why are you a beginner too! 3)Sacadas and ganchos and all the other good stuff. Now we're talking. 4)After getting to know the community and everyone around (obviously Tango isn't just a dance,

Bring me Back

It has been a while since I have managed to bring myself back toward elements of beginning stages. Back to the days in tiled Union lobbies with an exasperated ponytailed guy telling me to shut my eyes and just feel. To stop fighting the lead and to surrender. What does it mean to be a good dancer? I sometimes think we are so caught up within this dance that we do not utilise everything else outside of it to inform our progress. Metaphors and imagery resonate so much stronger than describing a step ever will. What does it mean to be a good speaker then? Is it necessary to be Oprah before we deem ourselves worthy of the title? Hardly! Then why is it that we expect to dance like Rojas, like Hurtado, or any other headlining name? Maybe because Tango is so accessible, so fundamental in nature, like walking, that we believe we can partake in it, and expect to at a very high level. Truth is, it really does require training, it requires years of dedication much like ballet, gymnastic, yog

Tango oh Tango

I love you, I hate you, you make my feet hurt like shit and you give me so many bloody insecurities and bruised big toes I might as well hide in a corner and never emerge. I'll never conquer you and I'll spend my whole life (and too much money) trying to perfect you, before realizing what I needed was the very thing I started off with, but am slowly losing...rawness. I live you, I breathe you, you brought me in touch with so many people and a couple that are unforgettable...that's what you are. Maybe you'll end up being my bridge, my connector, in fact, you already are, to myself, to friends, to lovers, to memories, to a past to living in moments suspended together, to jealousy, envy, pride, embarassment, to futures and foreign places. To big old santa claus guys proclaiming tango as heroin, to musty May nights in Triangulo missing someone, to 24 hour flights and 4 day festivals, to reconnecting as never before, to La Cumparsitas x 10, to barefoot Tango in kitchen

Tangodurians

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