Buenos Aires Club

'Went to the Buenos Aires Club last night, some time after midnight. I didn't get in till five a.m. and don't feel the least bit tired. Funny the way the body adjusts easily, so long as there's a good enough incentive. I'm reminded of the story someone once told me about having a raging toothache, which disappeared the instant he was informed he was being released from prison. I went there to dance, of course, but also specifically to dance with the demon dancer of the night before. Of course I did.

I felt slightly intimidated at the thought of going out alone at that hour, so I took a taxi, but this can't go on for much longer or I shall run out of funds. A taxi costs as much as eating out. I shall just have to get the hang of the routes of the various local collectivos, (buses.) The bus guidebooks are easy to use, so long as you have plenty of time to trace the route on a map, before setting out. The trouble is, I'm always in a hurry. The other reason it can be hard taking a collectivo is that they only accept coins and there is a critical shortage of coins in Argentina. I talked to a lady at a kiosk about this and she said the reason for this is that it costs more to mint a coin than the coin is worth. I still don't get it. Why then do the buses insist on accepting only coins, when there aren't sufficient? I shall have to get to the bottom of this.

Anyway... the Buenos Aires Club is a chilled out, boho joint, where they have live music and if you're lucky, a cabaret, thrown in with the milonga. I met a Frenchman who had given up his life, house, car and all other belongings to move to Buenos Aires just for tango. I also met up with a couple of guys I'd danced with in other milongas as well as meeting a few new faces. I danced all evening and had a satisfying number of tandas (sets of dances) with the demon dancer. It was easy, it was fun. I've been here just over a week and already I feel at home in this city.

At around three thirty, the dream dancer approached me with his flashing eyes and said that he was off and would I like to leave too. We left.

Opportunity is confronting. Fear is not 'real,' yet it feels more real than reality. Expectation is informed by habit. Therefore very likely misinformed. I know this. And yet, I feel compelled to deny possibility, to stay with what I know, to be safe inside the box, inside my comfort zone. Like many people I know, I don't tend to get close to someone just because I can. I need to construct a conventional context, to invent a story, to safeguard and to justify. Tango is a such a context, and an exquisite one. Connecting with another in beauty is the pleasure of tango. But outside of such a context, ooooh, I don't know. Best weave a circle round him thrice.*

(Kubla Khan, by S. T. Coleridge)