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A plea from England. Tell me when…

July 10, 2010 in Live your dreams, The tale of my book - Happy Tango, Uncategorized | 36 comments

Who will be first to tell me that they have received their copy of Happy Tango by post from an online retailer?

And will it be delivered by The Book Depository (who offer free shipping to many countries — but alas it seems, not yet Argentina — and show the book as ‘usually dispatched within 48 hours’), or by amazon.co.uk (who say the book will be dispatched in 10-13 days), or by amazon.com(who list the book as ‘in stock’)? Exciting times in the life of Happy Tango, no?

I’m ruling my family out of the race. We’ve had two copies delivered already — the proof copy number one and the proof copy number two — and as I’ve now approved the final proof and the book is at last available to print for real, I’ve today ordered 120 copies and I should get those next week. I can make a bit more cash selling hand to hand, of course, which is fab for me because, in the end, the book has probably cost me at least a couple of grand (British) to date, along with knocking on for a couple of years of work time. But, I’ll be delighted to sell copies online via the big retailers, as that way I can get the book all over the world and into the hands of as many tango dancers as possible. Course, I’d love to be able to travel to each of you with a book in my own hand, but for now, alas, it’s probably out of the question.

The first people to buy direct from me will probably be a few of the lovely dancers from the weekly summer practica at Shrewsbury Tango. This Thursday I was lucky enough to have the chance to lead an hour long session with them on the subject of how we might be able to learn to deepen our connection in the embrace when dancing tango socially… oh gosh, it was sooo fab — thank you, you open-minded students, you were all so brilliantly receptive and willing to try out my ideas. And, you have left me with so much to think about: watching you breathing together, in embraces closer than, perhaps, some of you had ever tried before, to the exquisite sounds of Miguel Caló, almost moved me to tears. And, when we spoke together at the end of the class on the subject of just what an amazing privilege it is to hold another tango dancer in our arms… well, the understanding in the room was almost tangible enough to be touched. It was the strangest feeling to hear people applauding me at the end of the session, and as we sat chatting in the pub afterwards, it slowly began to sink in that I had just completed the first step (and passed the first test, in terms of how successful the session had been) along the path of one of my dreams — to do my bit to enable more British dancers to freely and easily and naturally give and receive the gift when dancing Argentine tango.

To be perfectly honest, I have never really wanted to teach tango. And, in the conventional sense of the word, I still don’t. But, I think you already know, I am passionate about discovering whether connection in tango can be encouraged and better understood earlier in the process of learning to dance tango… and on Thursday’s evidence, I think maybe it can be, and maybe it can be by me. I had hoped so, but now I am a little closer to knowing so. Dave and Alison, at Shrewsbury Tango, thank you for inviting me into your tango community and giving me the chance to share some of my ideas with you all. Me and C. plan to be there next week, if life events allow, to enjoy Sharon’s super teaching and your great selection of traditional tango music, and I’ll have copies of Happy Tango in hand… people, if you are going to be there and would like a copy, please bring £14.99 (I’ll have pennies to give in change!) and of course, if you would like, I’d be delighted to write a personal message in the book for you.

On the online front, I can’t yet be too sure when people’s orders for Happy Tango will start being fulfilled. In theory, it’s available to print as orders come in (the book is being produced via a print-on-demand system), and the fact that online retailers are beginning to list the book as ‘in stock’ means that info is starting to filter through from my printer/distributor. This is good news. I’ll be keeping an alert eye open of course and will give the latest information as I get it, here on Happy Tango’s website.

Meanwhile in warm and pleasant Inglaterra, Me and C. are going to be staying with my folks for a while. For reasons I don’t really want to go into right now, they need us this summer in ways we could never have predicted. It’s perfect timing that my most intensive work on Happy Tango is over, so that I can relax a bit and concentrate on being fully present with my family. Or at least I will be able to once I get word from you that the book is in your hands (and that one or two of you like it!).

So friends, from wherever you are in the world, to Shopshire, England, far far away, please do take a minute to tell me when…

If you haven’t ordered Happy Tango yet, and you would like to… here are the links:

Happy Tango from The Book Depository (who offer free shipping to many countries)

Happy Tango from amazon.co.uk

Happy Tango from amazon.com

Thank you!

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The space-in-between (and some perfect empanadas)

June 6, 2010 in Live your dreams, Sallycat back in the UK, Uncategorized | 22 comments

I’m in the air somewhere above the Atlantic.

Argentina (where, for a bit over 3 years, I’ve been learning to live the life I want) is behind me; England (where, for 43 years, I struggled to live the life I thought I should want) is about four hours ahead of me. C., the man I love the most, is in the seat beside me, watching the Spanish-dubbed Helena Bonham Carter and Johnny Depp romp through their very own Wonderland. My parents are driving through the early hours down the M6 to meet us. I’m wrapped in two blankets, cloaked in the ear-plugged peace of a British Airways night flight, and filled with a tranquility that surprises me, but that is oh-so welcome.

This is my third trip back to Inglaterra since I first flew to Buenos Aires in 2007, and it will be the longest so far (if we stick to the dates on our tickets). As I wrote in my last post, I’ve done the absolute minimum of planning, barely making any arrangements or promises, thus keeping the sense of freedom that I now know I need for joy. I’ve also avoided the pre-departure emotional roller-coasters that were once a habit: I remember last year’s slightly nostalgic walk from the last milonga before my departure (minor dramatics) and I recall the year-before’s alarmingly emotional upheaval, as illustrated by my reaction to simply being on a plane headed towards Britain (major dramatics). That I can now sit here with a calm and happy heart, tells me mucho. If you read those two past posts, I think you’ll feel the change in energy. Getting gradually more balanced, no?

In all my life, I never found it easy to leave a place. I used to be the sort of person who’d run back to re-check the door was locked (twice), or phone a friend from the airport to ask them to go and do it. I’d get in the taxi and let my mind run over every possible thing I might have forgotten, until I found something… and I always found something.  If a re-check was impossible, I’d sometimes allow myself to worry about the thing for days into my travels – not constantly or too overtly, you understand, but kind of secretly, in moments when I was alone or in moments when I didn’t think you’d notice. But, of course, the people close to me always noticed, because you can’t be fully present when you are worrying, can you? I’d appear distracted  and sometimes be intolerant too, because someone I love would want my attention and I’d be preferring to devote that attention to the pointless, time-wasting fears and frets of VOD. How damn daft is that?

Preparing to leave Buenos Aires this time, I made the decision I just wasn’t going to do any of that stuff. And I didn’t. It was that simple. I had one wobbly day when I was exhausted from working too hard towards the publication (still aiming for the coming weeks) of Happy Tango and realised that I wasn’t going to be able to do everything I’d hoped to do in the days available. But, as is my new way (determined to change old and joyless patterns), I accepted it and relaxed my thinking accordingly. I didn’t get all my work done, so I was right in that matter, but the world sure kept turning. I’m on the plane and I’ve told my Mum I’ll be working next week. Life goes on.

In addition to accepting that I wasn’t going to fit all the work in, I played a bit harder for good measure. Me and C. got invited, by one of the most generous-hearted people I know, to learn how to make empanadas with a top cook called Teresita who lives about an hour from Buenos Aires. We ended up dancing tango for the assembled guests, C. got gorgeously talkative (on a few sips of some rather super Argentine vinos) and I got to eat heaps of mini-pasties that tasted as if they’d come straight from empanada heaven. If you fancy an off-the-beaten-track foodie experience while in Buenos Aires, check out the photos of our fun and Teresita’s website try2cook.com to find out about the sort of cool time you could have.

And any last tangos? Well, I did them too. Had to savour being in the arms of those ‘milongueros I love the most’ before hitting the dance floors of the Reino Unido, didn’t I? But, I’m looking forward to a spot of UK tango, I confess. Got some research on the gift to be doing and I can’t wait to get started. I’ve even got other tango bloggers sending out pleas for me on that score (Mark, you’re an angel). Here’s my own request. Brit boys, please ask me to dance and show me that you know the secret… that’ll be wicked!

I’m now two hours away from touchdown, so they’ll be bringing the breakfast out any minute and I’ll have to sign off. But, I’ve done what I needed to do. I wanted to write this post in the air, in the world of zero responsibilities, where I’m in neither of the lands I love. I figured that up here, where my thoughts can’t be distorted by being in either one place or the other, I’d be able to see my latest truths. And I do.

In this precious ’space-in-between’, I’m not thinking beyond hugging my Mum and Dad in Terminal 5 and checking out the World Cup TV schedules in the Radio Times, asap — gotta make sure that Carlos can get to watch the Argies win their group games and that I can watch England win theirs. And, that is it. No worries. No frets. No looking back. No looking forward. No VOD.

Hey, I have exactly the life I want! There. Here. Anywhere. Now.

Fact is, tonight (and tonight is all that exists), I am truly grateful to be flying into the dawn above the beautiful, British corner of The Universe that for the next few months will be our home.

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And the first ever Absolutely Bloody Brilliant Barbie Award (ABBBA) goes to…

June 4, 2009 in Buenos Aires Information, Diary of a Tango Dancer in Buenos Aires, Live your dreams, Uncategorized | 7 comments

IMGP4028 It happened because I offered to buy a few pairs of men’s tango shoes for friends in Britain. It happened because I finally decided to consider a tango shoe for myself, that I’d previously ruled out because it didn’t look like the CiFs I was used to. It happened because my Spanish is now at a level where I am not so fixated on my own inadequacies that I miss noticing the soul who is speaking to me.  This week my absolutely bloody brilliant Barbie spotted another absolutely bloody brilliant Barbie and the…

images Barbie images Barbie

Absolutely Bloody Brilliant Barbie Award

was born.

I saw the Barbie too. I saw it in the eyes of the shoe designer who sat in front of me, as he told me that he never stops thinking about how he can make the best tango shoe in the world. I saw it in the inspired and unique interchangeable sole of the 2×4alpie shoe he held in his hand. I heard it in his slightly breathless voice as he told me why, regardless of the horrendous inflation in Argentina and the effect it has on the price of his shoes, he will never compromise on quality.

Afterwards, Me and my Barbie stood shivering in the freezing cold at ‘the quinze’ bus stop in Scalabrini Ortiz, but our excitement kept us warm.

Sallycat, we have to party! trilled Barbie, and she continued in a rush, I mean Sallycat, in the battle against the VODs, you just gotta talk Barbies, and not just your Barbie. You gotta shout about the other Barbies in the world too. Make beautiful Barbie noise, and drown out the VODs! Don’t you think, Sallycat? Oh don’t you? Don’t you? Oh please say you do!

Oh I do. I do.

So I will. With this award. Which I shall give freely, whenever my Barbie wants.

I remember back in 2007 when 2×4alpie was just starting to sell shoes. There was no shop in those days. Chacho was a mate of Ariel’s and he used to bring the shoes to Club Gricel on Saturday nights and we all used to marvel at the interchangeable soles. I was a bit dubious: Would I really want to change the soles? Would the ingenious velcro system actually be strong enough to hold the new sole in place? Wouldn’t the sole catch on uneven floors?

IMGP4037 I did love how the ladies practice shoes were about as far away from the usual clunky trainer style as you could get, made me feel like a princess (I hadn’t discovered Barbie at that point), and came in gold with holes in the upper to let the air flow cool over hot feet. Carlos fell for the wine coloured shoes in the softest leather I had ever touched. There were no ladies tango heels back then and anyway I was buying CiFs. Me and C. couldn’t resist though, and we started our family of 2×4s.

IMGP3955 Ariel often danced in Chacho’s shoes too and he went for the totally cool man designs in black and white or brown and white. Style-wise, I’ve never seen anything to compare anywhere else, to be honest. Maybe it’s the shoe shape, maybe it’s the specific pattern of the one leather laid on the other, maybe it’s in the softness of the leathers themselves… I don’t know, but when I see a man in these shoes, I see class, I see trendy, cutting edge… I see a tango dancer who knows what’s what. C. says that when he puts his 2×4s on he is transformed, becomes a bit of a ‘lad’ apparently, a dancer with attitude. In other words, his own dancing Barbie likes the shoes too.

Last year at the BsAs Tango Festival in Harrods I did try on a pair of the women’s tango shoes. I wanted them because they were the most comfortable I had ever put on my dancing feet, but I was still umming and ahhing about whether I liked the thicker than CiF heels. A male British mate of mine, let’s call him Greg, was with me that day, and he did splash out in the men’s department. He took his first ever pair of black suede 2×4s back to tango Britain. Was he the first Brit tourist to buy? Not sure, but I came away happy that Chacho’s gorgeous shoes would see the south of Inglaterra at least.

IMGP3969 Now I’m headed back to Britain in July, and Greg has asked for two more pairs of 2×4s: the proof of the pudding as they say… and so I make my visit to the shop this week, because yes, there is now a 2×4 shop. This time I try on the women’s tango shoes again. I’ve come along way on my tango journey in the ten months since the trip to Harrods last August. I no longer care about the width of the heel or the lack of glitter or lace… all I’m interested in is whether I can dance my heart out in this shoe. From the second my foot slips into the black and white pair, I have my answer – this time there is no hesitation.

IMGP4016 Chacho and Me sit in his shop for a bit with some choccie biccies and he shows me the old ladies tango shoe, once the property of a very famous tango dancer, that he took apart when he was working out how to make his shoes. He tells me how the famous lady tango dancer said to him, Make this shoe, but make it better. He shows me the stuff we wearers of tango shoes normally never see: the cardboard inside the shoe base, which eventually cracks and splits with serious dancing; the synthetic upper that looks convincingly like leather but isn’t, the lack of elastic at the buckle or the elastic that has torn with stress. He shows me how a 2×4 shoe is made… no cardboard in sight… just leather, leather and more leather.

IMGP3964 He reveals that it took eight months to develop the rubber/suede/leather interchangeable sole system. I tell him that I will definitely be using it: between the sweaty baldosa floor of La Milonguita, the glass like surface of La Ideal, the slippery wood in Centro Regiòn Leonesa, I know I am going to test it to its limit. No problem, he says.

While Chacho talks I notice something in him that I recognise. I see the same thing that’s in me when I talk about how I want my ebook (now in its second draft, honest) to help first timers on the road to happy Buenos Aires tango memories, when I talk about wanting to inspire people to follow their hearts, when I talk about wanting to help people to set their own Barbie’s free. I see passion. I hear it too,

I’m always thinking about how I can make them better. Always… he says.

His eyes shine, and my beautiful Barbie sees his Absolutely Bloody Brilliant Barbie. I see it too.

Maybe I should call this Barbie, Ken? After all it does live inside a guy, and God only knows how Chacho would feel about me talking about his Inner Artist this way… but, oh sod it, no, I won’t. I like the idea of an army of Barbie’s mixing creative magic in the world, be they living inside men or women.

So, Chacho Rosenkrantz of 2×4alpie, you unique and special human being you… for mixing tango shoe magic from passion and creativity right here in Buenos Aires, I’m giving you the very first

Barbie IMGP4028 images

Absolutely Bloody Brilliant Barbie Award

whether you like it or not. End of.

And folks around the globe, if you want to see more marvellous photos of 2×4s nestling among the tango shoes I have known, do check out my new and rather super Flickr photoset of that name, for the full celebratory picture book of  Sallycat’s Buenos Aires tango shoe family.

If you actually want to see the 2×4alpie interchangeable sole being changed, check out this little 2×4 video, which gives you a glimpse of just how bloody brilliant it is.

You can find 2×4alpie at Scalabrini Ortiz 1753 Apartment 3, Buenos Aires from 3pm to 7pm Monday to Saturday. If you want to be sure and meet Chacho, then phone before you go 1550112000 to make sure he’s in not out. In June 2009 all 2×4alpie shoes cost $470pesos a pair (when bought direct in Buenos Aires) and come with the full set of 2×4 sole change accessories and the sturdy, practical and super stylish 2×4alpie shoe bag.

And finally, if you own a pair of 2×4s, please feel free to celebrate them here!

The lovely trophy image above was originally on the web at dealbreaker.com.

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Time

April 2, 2009 in Diary of a Tango Dancer in Buenos Aires, Live your dreams, Uncategorized | 8 comments

There are days when I feel I have all the time in the world and today is one of them. It’s a public holiday in Argentina: 27 years since the Falklands (Malvinas) War; 27 years since I heard my grandfather yelling obscenities at the TV… whether at Maggie or at Galtieri I am not certain; 27 years since Carlos was on the reserve list… if it hadn’t come to an end when it did, he would have been among the next to go.

Because it is a holiday here, I can’t do any of the things I would be doing if it wasn’t a holiday. At 7 tomorrow morning I’ll be doing them. Today I’m gathering strength.

I’ve come to an internet cafe in Las Cañitas where to get an @ symbol you have to press ALT then 6 then 4… but at least the music is fairly quiet. My laptop broke on Sunday night and is now out beyond the Gral Paz autopista waiting for the holiday to be over: I might hear next week what blew up. You know, it isn’t easy for me to explain how I feel to be without my laptop in this life in another land: I will just use one word and you will have to believe me that I am not being in the least dramatic, just honest: lost.

I thought about not blogging until I get the laptop back. Then I decided I would, because maybe you are wondering if I’m still smoke free, or whether I ever did get my visa renewed. So what if I can’t use Windows Live Writer like I normally do. So what if there won’t be any photos. So what if I have to recheck the spelling and sense a million times because the letters have rubbed off the keyboard I’m using.  Sometimes you just have to make do. Even the fact that it is pouring with rain is gifting me a few indoor hours. Today.

Yesterday it was different. Time mattered. And it went like this:

6.00am Friend from UK phones, forgetting that there are now 4 hours between us. I’m guessing that it was 6am because I didn’t look and it was still dark outside. Afterwards I drift in and out of dreams: I seem to see everyone who is in my life right now. I tell Carlos. He says, They are here to help you, to give you strength. I say, I hope so.

7.30am My Spanish/English translator phones. Can we meet downstairs so that she can redo the translations she has already done and get them to the Colegio de Traductores at 9am? (The night before, I spotted several errors in the names… Sally had somehow become Rally.) I get dressed and take the papers to her.

10.00am The translator phones again. She has the translations. Can we meet in Plaza de Mayo? On the way I make myself go into a church I pass, and say a prayer, for strength.  At around 11am she hands me the new certified documents. I walk down 25 de Mayo and eventually find a ‘locutorio’ without a massive queue. I get the pages copied. I walk to Migraciones. Maybe I should have taken a taxi to save time but the traffic was stationary: perhaps it was because of streets closed off around Congreso – Raul Alfonsin, who was the first President of Argentina after the Military Rule, was lying in state and people were flocking to pay their respects. I even stop for a coffee and medialunas because I know that I will need energy to face the immigration queues – I see Alfonsin’s body on TV. It reminds me I am still smoke free and so hopefully a step further away from my own death.

12.00noonish I arrive at Migraciones and manage to get in. I feel upbeat. I am sure that I have all the required papers and that I may get the 6 months (notice that I have already accepted I will not get the 12 months, I will be grateful for 6) on my visa. When the woman tells me that there are no more numbers for ‘Prorrogas’ (the section I need), I am struck dumb (the previous week at this time there were numbers). I am sure my mouth opens and shuts a few times as I stare at her. Brick wall like, she waves me away. I stand in the corner and face away from the people while I  regroup. I return to her, voice unsteady, What time do I have to come tomorrow to get a number? No, she says, not tomorrow. It’s a holiday. I realise I am looking at Friday. It’s the last day of my visa, I say, please tell me how I can get a number. Come at 7.30am, she says. Look for me. It will be ok. I remember the crowds, the lines in the street, the security guards, the chaos.

1.00pm I go and stand in the ‘Prorrogas’ section and torture myself for a moment by looking longingly at the desks. It’s full of people renewing their tourist visas. They are in the same section as me. I try really hard to feel generous, but oh hell I wish they’d all gone to Uruguay and given me a chance of a number today. Maybe one of them will give up and leave before their turn and I can beg for their number. I wait an hour. No-one leaves. So eventually I do. I feel shit. I walk back to Retiro through the most horrendous traffic (juggernauts) on the huge carriageways I have to cross. I am breathing horrible fumes, but they are not smoke fumes… I am no longer reaching for cigarettes to numb my frustration, just digging deeper into my own resources.

3.00pm I’m in Belgrano, which is a long way from Retiro, looking at the prices of mini Notebooks as I never want to be without a computer again. I reckon they are about 100 quid dearer in Argentina than in Britain, but I am seriously considering one. Can’t buy though because my new Visa card is still stuck in the UK (you know even DHL won’t ship a Visa card) so I’ll have to withdraw 4 lots of cash on 4 different days to have enough.

5.00pm I’m home and Argentina is losing to Bolivia in the World Cup qualifier. Carlos tells me about his attempts to obtain a $9peso refund on his cracked Monedero Subte card: he had to go all the way to Tribunales to the refund office but in the end did not succeed because he wasn’t carrying his ID card. He is in a bad mood but it fires him up. Let me ring the laptop extended warranty people for you, he says. Having to wait three days for someone to call is ridiculous. He grabs the phone. Eventually they tell us where to take the laptop.

6.55pm After an hour on the 15 bus we are running along a street in Olivos (beyond the Gral Paz highway) to reach the ‘PC Fixer’ by 7pm. We arrive as the guy is turning off the lights. He serves us. I want to hug him. Me and C. are smiling as we head back towards the motorway to catch the ‘colectivo’. Thanks for making us get here in time, I say. Minutes mattered today. I lost some this morning and so couldn’t get my visa, but now look at us… we made it in time. The day turned around. I couldn’t have done that without you. I wouldn’t have had a clue where to get off the bus… We laugh.

8.00pm We get home to find that Argentina lost to Bolivia 6-1. Now there were two halves of 45 minutes each, that mattered to a few people. We both agree that whatever our days were like, Maradona’s was probably worse.

To be honest, in the calm of today and remembering those who lost their lives in the Falklands, I’m simply happy that I’ve got a tomorrow at all, whatever it brings. 

Even so, if you’re awake at 7.30am Buenos Aires time in the morning, do send me a positive vibe: as I stand in the street outside Migraciones on the day my temporary residency visa expires, I might just be needing it.

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Clearer skies

January 22, 2008 in Uncategorized | 4 comments

IMGP8772 Two nights ago I walked with my Argentine in Puerto Madero. The sun was falling into its nightly sleep and the shadows were strong and clean across the water. The sky was the clearest of blues. And I felt at peace: as we walked, I felt strong and clean too. In the last few days I have begun to sense that I am turning a corner. Maybe.

What do you hold on to when peace starts slipping away? As long as you have something to steady you one day at a time, there is always a way back, or perhaps to be more accurate, a way forward. And of course that is, as long as your mind allows you to hold on. Mine has. Here are  just five things that have helped me to walk, one foot in front of the other, over the last weeks. These five things have begun to lift me out of the ‘treacle’ and have played a part in guiding me into today.

IMGP8465

Spontaneity: a first swim in the dark in my tiny roof top pool. Here it is in the rain. Just to feel the cool water in the heat of the Buenos Aires night, just to lie back and stare at the stars, just to know that it is winter in England: for now, I know I am in the right place.

You: the countless messages of love and support that I have received, from my beloved family, from my friends back in England, from friends here in Argentina, and from many wonderful people whom I have never even met all over the world. They told me that I am not alone. They made me cry with relief. They gave me hope. They inspired me to listen to my fears, accept them and try to understand them. They inspired me to love myself exactly as I am. Once again I found out that honesty is powerful. I have been more honest in the past weeks than I think I have ever been in my life. Being honest with yourself and those who love you is painful, but I think it is worth it. I have stayed true to myself and so to those around me. Writing on this blog was just one part of that honesty. You sent me love and honesty in return and I felt it as a surge of energy.

IMGP8757 The new: it might not be such a new country for me anymore but there are many wonderful experiences waiting around the corner and because of who I am, they are an important source of strength for me. A last minute decision to take an evening walk led to the discovery of a beautiful ship, entry free, to be explored. I have been in Buenos Aires nearly 11 months, and I hadn’t yet ventured to Puerto Madero. On a summer evening it is spacious, the breeze over the water is cooling, and it felt just like being in London by the Thames. On low days it is easy to forget to keep appreciating, discovering. How fast a different environment becomes the ‘norm’, taken for granted, its hidden treasures ignored. I don’t want to fall in to that trap. This is a city that I have actively chosen to live in, and I want to keep reminding myself why.

A laptop. After months of no sound, and USB ports out of action: webcam and Skype an impossibility… I overcame my fear of buying in Argentina. In the last days I have been able to talk to and see my family back home and talk for hours for free. Why didn’t I do it months ago? OK so the keyboard is weird and the operating system’s in Spanish and so are half the other programs I am downloading, but I can hack it. In the end it cost me 500 pounds (is there a way to get a pound sign on this keyboard?!). Sometimes you have to just bite the bullet. I am saying thank you to my sister’s husband who said, “Why the hell doesn’t she just BUY the computer?” Well Nick, I did, and I owe you.

DSCF2744 My class with Ariel today. I think the fact my head has been so full of big stuff has let my body go off and do its own tango thing. I have stopped thinking much about tango. I have relaxed. Something in my body has released.  Ariel is smiling, making thumbs up signs, saying “Great!” a lot. I am smiling too. Actually today I shouted at him, “Hey, I can dance!” and I had a huge grin on my face, perhaps the first in a tango lesson for weeks.

Today I am feeling more connected with the world, and with myself. When I look back over the months past I realise that events have been huge. I cannot be surprised that I have wobbled and tripped. It is normal and possibly to be expected in one form or another for anyone who makes a dramatic change to their life, however much of a good idea it seems at the time.

I left my country in painful circumstances. I took decisions to live a different way: follow my heart, be true to myself, be more honest with other people. I intended to come for maybe three months, but ended up buying a home and staying. I made close friends who left and I faced periods of feeling very alone and isolated. I am way out of practice with new relationships but I fell in love with someone from a different culture, who had not before faced the reality of a free-spirited, fiercely independent English woman. I conducted this relationship in Spanish, a language I had never spoken until I arrived in Buenos Aires. I spent more time in my own company and with my head that I ever have before: sometimes I feel it has been the equivalent of a long spiritual retreat. I faced the arrival of the English who, through no fault of their own, dragged up painful memories and unleashed unexpected emotions. I ended up changing my plans to return to England, spend time with my family, sort out the practicalities of my life: even though I did it for good reasons I think my subconscious was expecting to be in England, but my body was still in Buenos Aires. Christmas and New Year spun their web of mystery in my mind. And something, somewhere snapped.

Into the peaceful mental space I had spent all year creating for myself, fear rushed and caused total and utter chaos. But, helped by some calming yoga, breathing, writing, reading, talking, praying and listening, I decided to take a good look at those deep rooted fears. They are real and they are a part of me. I have begun to understand them. I have begun to face them. I have also taken a long hard look at the things I need longer term to make my life in Argentina fuller and more tenable, and I have started to act on that knowledge. Already the universe is listening and I am being given new opportunities to explore.

I believe that in the past weeks Sallycat: tango dancer, writer, adventurer met Sally: small girl, lost in South America and listened to her, hugged her, and loved her. Who knows where these two will head in the coming days, but at least for now I think that they have stopped fighting and are maybe even holding hands.

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Hello world!

January 9, 2007 in Uncategorized | 7 comments

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