Merry-Go-Latin

So, what have i been up to in Buenos Aires? Easy: sleeping, eating and tango. Nope, no museums. I know that's weird for me but well, this time it's different! After all, i am in a solo trip so far, am i not? That s nothing normal about it when it comes to me!!!! However, i do walk around a lot, getting lost here and there, taking pictures and people watching. That's what i like: i have no plan and stick to this

Anyhow, the most "me" experience of Buenos Aires is certainly, with no doubts, tango. I did it: i enrolled myself to a tango intensive study plan...and here i am still "tango-ing" in BA two weeks later! 

Let's count, shall we?

1 pair of tango shoes
2 tango group classes attended so far
3 things i need to check on my "start" position (elbow, back and hips)
5 more private classes to go
7 tango teachers
8 the date of my first tango class (08/03/12)
10 11 the address of DNI tango, on str. Bulnes
12 hours of private classes done so far

Dramatic. That's the world i would use to describe yesterday's two hour private tango class. Very good teachers who pointed out, as they should, again and again and again my mistakes and their reasons. I can't do it or, well, i could but not in one week: i will not be able to go dance a milonga before leaving Buenos Aires. I am ao self conscious of my inappropriate posture and natural moves that i loose focus, i forget to breath or i just get it wrong when i do try to breath and be focused. Aaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh!!!!

After my class, there was a group practice, a sort of a walk-in kind of event where students and teachers were just dancing to have fun and show off their talents or practice their moves. I was so depressed that, although i went to the event, i didn't even put my shoes on and i stayed there, just watching and longing. The worst thing about it all was that the room was full of foreigners. Ok, these are people living in Buenos Aires for more than one week, having time to take classes regularly. But it didn't matter to me: they were not Argentinian just like me but they could dance tango. And i couldn't. After the three hour practice (which i watched) there was a group class for beginners. That would have been THE class to attend, to mingle with people like me, who cannot dance tango, but i was soooo depressed that i didn't stay for the class. I left, back to the hotel, alone.

Aaaaarrrrrrggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I needed to talk to someone about all this and get immediately on skype. Clearly enough, nobody was online (of those people who i could have actually annoyed with this stuff). At that time it was only 8pm, tea-time in Argentina! but since i was hungry and lonly i went out to a nice good restaurant to eat asado.

Now, what is this? Easy: BBQ deluxe meat, to put it simple. I had already eat meat since in BA but never took a proper asado, cause i am not a real meat lover and, also, cause i am alone and can t possibly eat a parilla (full range of meat like a real BBQ) alone. Well, whatever, i needed to treat myself to something good. And, oh gosh, that was SOOOOOOOO damn good! I took "medio bife de chorizo" which, apparently, in english would be translated with sirloin / New York strip. Good, like juicy good, flavory good, fat on the exterior part but not too much just enough, delicious. The bife de chorizo is probably the safest bet you take when eating meat, as it is an "easy going" fellow that you could eat everyday and nevere get tired of it. And it came with different sauces, one sweet!, which made every bite different! Really, amazing!

The end of the dinner was as delicious as the main course: i had a "budin de pan" or bread pudding (or something like that) with caramel sauce. Wow!

After all this, i had to wait three hours before going to bed, but it was worth it! I haven't given up on my tango yet!

I have been in Buenos Aires for a week already but haven't seen any tango show yet. Why so? Well, it's simple: as an ex ballet dancer i don't really want to see a dance i know nothing about. This means that i also haven't seen any milonga, aka street or ballroom tango. But what i did do is enroll myself in a well known tango school (DNI Tango - dni-tango.com) to take individual classes. I have already had four hours of private tango classes both in technique and practice and i think i am ready to share my feelings!

Well, the first thing that should be said it's that all the teachers i had so far (4) had the same reaction when i mentioned (cause they asked) that i danced ballet for about 20 years. And the reaction was something like this: "oh! I see! Well...don't worry, it will be difficult for you but you can make it or we can try, at least!" . Mmmmmm....not very reassuring... The thing is that after so many years of ballet, i have embedded into me the basics of ballet such as the posture, the balance, the movment of the feet, strnght points, etc. Even if i haven't really practiced ballet in 6 years, muscles have memory and they simply do things automatically. Well, it turns out that i basically have to do (almost) everything differently in tango!!! I do understand exactly what teachers explain me but it is easier said than done. I find myself reaching a level of self-consciousness while dancing that i had completely forgotten existed...and that's not good for an ex-ballerina as being self-consciuous takes away part of the fun of dancing.

The teachers i had so far have all been amazing: patient, good and motivating me all along, especially when i had the "what the hell am i doing here trying to dance in an innatural way" look in my eyes, which is for about 89% of the time, the rest being 1% of happiness while putting my tango shoes on and 10% of total desolated desesperation.

But hey, don't get me wrong! I LOVE it! It's just that, modesty aside, i am not used at not being good at dancing. However, i am not ready yet for joining a milonga. I'll go watch street milongas in San Telmo tomorrow, but i won't join any for the time being. As of today, i'll have two hours of private classes and, depending on my mood, another two to three of group classes. That's intense, i know. That's dancing!!!!

The first step and stop of my Go Latin trip has been a two day stopover in Panama, on my way to Argentina.

To give you an idea of how "puzzled" i was, hear this. Upon arrival at the airport i tell to myself that i really need to be on top of everything on this trip and therefore decide to immediately go change USD into the local currency. Good idea, no? Quite pleasedwith myself, i go to the bank in the arrival area at the airport and ask to change some USD into....into what? Well, "the local currency, of course" i reply to the lady attending me. I understand there is something wrong when i see pity on the eyes of this lady but....what is it exactly? Oh well, just a tiny little detail: the local currency in Panama is the USD!!!! I smile politely and step back. Smile again, thank the lady (who has clearly still pity of me) and disappear!

Finding an hotel there, over the internet, proved to be quite a challenge as everything i liked seemed to be fully booked. I finally ended up staying at the Lemon Inn, a cozy new hotel very close to the tall "spiral" building, also known by the nickname "torsadillo". It was clearly not in the "must be area" but i ended up enjoying the long walk on the promenade close to the sea, from Panama Viejo until the new banking district.

When i arrived i was so dead exhaused from the long crying that i felt asleep almost immediately and didn't even try to go out to have dinner. The day after i also woke up pretty late, too late to have a trip to the canal. Oh well! i could use some shopping time to buya cover for my ipad and the camera connector usb thing to transfer pictures. And i could also buy a Panama hat, made in Panama, to my dad: he loves hats! If the first two things were easily done, the second one...well, i can i put it.....did you know that Panama hats are actually made in and original from Ecuador??!!! Well, i didn't and i learnt that while collecting my second "pity gaze". So no hat for dad, at least not a Panama made in Panama!

Being, by this time, late afternoon, i decide to go visit Palermo Antiguo. It s a nice colonial barrio with two quite distinct areas: a residential/touristic one and a popular one where everyone tells you not to adventure as a tourist. Clearly enough, considering my majestic skills in reading maps, i quickly end up in the popular area and, although i decided not to take out my camera from my bag, i really liked it! For some reason it reminded me of the Dominican Republic, with youngster and older people playing table games together in the shadowy "patio" just between the street and the door of the house. I loved it!

I then decided to go back to the hotel walking along the promenade. It looked very nice from where i was and i could see the "torsadillo", my reference point. It was indeed a very nice walk....and long, very long, two hours long!!! Clearly enough, when i got to the hotel i just wanted to rest and didn t make any effort to go out to a night of rumba, which as a woman alone might have turned out a bit different from what i was looking for. nd that s when i had the feeling that my trip will not have a lot of nightlife included....unless i met people who dragged me out! We ll see!!!

On my way to the airport, the day after, i asked the taxi driver to make a detour so that i could see Panama Antiguo, the first city of Panama now ruins. And so the taxi drover did, i had a good sight of the ruins just before having a good sight of the super luxury appartment being build 500mt from Panama's slums. City dynamics, interesting!

D-0, that is the day i left Haiti, was quite a tragedy.

All was good until late at night, the night before of my departure, when i came back from a tear-free (unbelievable but true!) goodbye dinner. Since i first arrived in Haiti i have lived in a tremendus fear of spiders, big hairy spiders. I have seen a few but never in one of my living areas. However, being conscious of the fact they tend to be seen in humid areas, i have always carefully checked the bathroom anytime i had to use it, even more carefully when it was for taking a shower. So, on my farewell night i enter the bathroom and see this giant tarantula right next to the sink. I froze and started crying, shouting, jumping and crying louder and lounder till someone finally came to rescue me!!! Seriously, what are the chances to see one tarantula on your last day after you haven't seen any in 25 months??!!!

I couldn't pack that night: i had to check every little tiny spot of the room to make sure no more hairy spiders were to be seen around! And i left packing for the morning after.

The morning of D-0, i wake up and i m still fine. I go prepare some coffee to have together with my colleagues before they left for the office. We chat, laugh and have a cozy breakfast-moment and then, suddenly, when they say: "shall we go?" i start crying and rarely stopped for the next 6 hours...

Packing for the trip was ok, not too good not too bad. I managed and straight after regreted to have packed " so much stuff" -but hey, it all fits into my backpack and should weught only about 15 kg!

Packing all my stuff to take home after the trip was all another story...which didn't end so well....i managed to fit everything into three suitcases but the last one is pretty much a bazar where i just threw everything i has at hand since i was quite late altedy!

Then, finally, i m ready to leave to go to the office, usually a short 10 minutes drive from home. 50 minutes later we were still on the way there...gosh! As soon as ai step in the office, my stomac start acting weird. I have lunch, a quick one, and on my last "banana pesee'" something moving behind me grabs my attention....oh no, oh noo nooooo....oh yes! Here they, all my colleagues gathered to say goodbye after two years spent working together. That's when i started crying again....and again...and again... I was basically dragged into the car, the door closed after me. I can't leave....i get out again and desperately hug my colleagues. They force me again into the car and, this time, i oppose no resistance. I'm leaving and i'm making quite an italian scene! But who cares!!!

The trip to the Airport is long, very long, almost so long to loose my fight. I kill the time calling friends to say goodbye/see you soon and when i finally get there i just stand in front of the entrance for 10 minutes. Crossing that door was for me one of the hardest things to do (being very much italian again!!!) and then, after taking a long last look, i turn around and go in.

10 minutes later i am still waiting to pass the security. The one BEFORE the check in when i see in front of my, making his way through the security check when he was not even travelling, the one who has been my family in Haiti. It did take me at least 20 seconds before i could call after him, i was looking at the scene (him trying to convince the security guards to let him throug) and it was too good!!! But i had to call and i also had to say this last, painful, goodbye. I ll come back to pick up my stuff in 6 weeks ans i ll see my friends again for a couple of days, but it won t be the same. I left Ayiyi cherie on the 1st of march.