Fiesta Tanguera

The other day, Laura our tango teacher celebrated her birthday and we were invited. Not being familiar with the social protocols of the porteño party scene we were glad that a German friend and 7-year-veteran of life in Buenos Aires would be joining us.

At first, the celebrations weren’t so different from the ones at home. Okay, the party started at 22:30 which is a bit late for German standards – especially if you usually have to get up at six for an early start at the office. But we made up for it by being unfashionably early and helping carry up provisions and chairs to the flat a musician friend had offered Laura as the party location.

But we had just finished setting up the nibbles when the first guests started to arrive. I have already told you about this local kissing habit (read: Argentina: Land of affection), and so far the husband had managed to ward off most of the men. But the tango people are an even more affectionate bunch, so this evening he didn’t stand a chance and had to give in. Well, Picard, resistance is futile!

Bottles of wine were opened and introductions made, everyone started snacking on crisps, veggies & dips and other food that kept arriving with the guests. At midnight, Laura started heating up a big pot of Locro. Locro is a very hearty stew from the Salta region, and Laura had asked a colleague from work who is originally from the north to prepare this batch. I like Locro, and this one was really good.

Some time later, the lights were dimmed and in came the birthday cake with the burning candles. Accompanied by the traditional singing and clapping, Laura had to blow out the candles and make a wish. Not really so different from your regular birthday in other corners of the world, right? But this post doesn’t carry the headline “Fiesta Tanguera” for nothing.

After eating cake and another round of congratulations and kisses, the owner of the flat sat down at the piano, out came a guitar and a bandoneon, and the trio started to play a birthday vals. Following the milonga tradition, Laura first danced with her boyfriend and was then whirled around the room by every man at the party who at least knew the basic steps.

If I ever needed a reminder why I was taking tango classes this was a good one. To spend my birthday at a milonga one day and be stepped around the floor by different dancers, to be able to easily adapt to their individual style and enjoy the moment with the same happy smile that Laura had that evening … But I still have a long way to go!

After several repetitions of the birthday vals it was time for a break and a change of tune, so another one of Laura’s artist friends started singing tango songs. She really had a very nice voice, although the first song obviously wasn’t her strongest, as someone next to me quickly pointed out. To be honest, I don’t know what he was on about. Listening to the melancholic lyrics of “La noche que te fuiste” (which means “The night you left me”) gave me goose bumps and I almost started to cry.

Perhaps I am getting sentimental in old age or the famous Argentinean melancholy is finally rubbing off on me. Or perhaps I once again realized that no matter how many friendly and affectionate encounters I experienced in this country, I was still a stranger and this wasn’t my home. I felt happy and sad at the same time. Happy to be there, to celebrate with these guys and to store the moments in my memory. And sad, because at some point we would leave Buenos Aires and these moments would perhaps become just that – a memory.

But hey, that’s what happens when you are all hopped-up on Dulce de Leche Chocolate Cake and tango songs. And perhaps time will show that some of the friends we made during our time in Argentina are for keeps. 

I would love that.