It Takes Two to Tango

Buenos Aires--

I decided to celebrate my last week in Santiago...by going to Buenos Aires! I arrived yesterday morning, hit the ground running, dropped off my backpack at the Hostal Portal del Sur...and took off determined to find some action...

I generally don't like to travel alone unless it's to New York City. The Big Apple is so vibrant, it actually immunizes the solo traveler against both boredom and loneliness. The city itself provides sufficient company. But, Buenos Aires screams, "tango!" , and as the saying goes, it takes at least two...

After a lightning tour of the Plaza de Mayo, I decided I was in no mood to be alone. I headed back to the hostel in search of traveling companions. The hostel was packed, so there were quite a few prospects...I listened to the accents...German...pass. Chilean...oh, no. Aussie...maybe, but keep looking...Brazilian...I usually have a blast with them, but this week, my head still hurting from a year of constant banging against the language barrier, I was determined to speak English, by golly.

And then, like music to my ears, I hear it...the language of Milton and Shakespeare...wafting from the stairwell...English spoken in an accent as elegant and refined as the Queen's herself.

And that is how I met Anabelle and Jane, two delightful nineteen-year-old English maidens on their 'gap year', whose Princess Diana-like manners were the happy result of a decade spent in boarding school.

Soon, we had a plan: First, we must see a Tango show. Since they only spoke Portuguese, it was left to me to make the reservation. "Would you like to take a Tango lesson before the show?", Lucas (the hostel's resident travel agent) asked in Spanish. "No thank you, just the show, please" I responded, also in Spanish. Apparently, I still need to work on my accent, because when we arrived at the theater later that evening, the man who took our names at the door ushered us to a dance studio mumbling,"Lesson now. Show later."

And that is how we met Miguel, the cutest Tango instructor in Argentina, and maybe even the world. And FOR ONCE, going stag actually worked in my favor! Since I had no partner, Miguel simply had to dance with me for a whole hour...sigh.

Here I am learning the basic step: slide front...right...back...back...cross...back...left...close


..

After the lesson, we walked up a couple of flights to the dinner-theater. The meal did not disappoint (this was Argentina, of course we had steak), and neither did the show...It was a cheese-fest, true, but after one year of Husserl and Hegel, I was in the mood for cheese...

Here's Miguel, doing his thing:



A final picture of our charming dance instructor and his lovely partner.