Tango train: La Bruja (Tuesday)

It was only about half an hour by bike and ferry from the El Cielo cafe in the Dokzaal on Plantage Doklaan to Casa Antonio on Kamperfoelieweg in North Amsterdam.

Corine, the host of La Bruja, was as smiley as I remembered.

Numbers were about half what they had been in October but it was a Tuesday not the regular slot on the second Sunday of the month.

The DJs were Corine and DJ Hilal, "La Gata Negra".  They shared the DJing between them, swapping back and forth during the evening.

Music

When we arrived the music was deafeningly loud. We felt the high notes through out bodies and both of us flinched.  I was worried about damaging my ear at the start of the festival week.  My friend who builds speaker systems asked at least twice for the volume to go down.  Thereafter "the volume fluctuated a bit but stayed too high, at least coming down from the 'hit a certain note and you duck' level."

Volume by Corine was better though her good Troilo tanda I thought still too loud. 

The music started iffy and got better though there was still drama in La Gata Negra's sections. Despite the Biagi-Duval I preferred Corine’s deejaying which was mostly nice for me. Although La Gata Negra did play a lot of D’Arienzo I had never heard about half of it.

Between some of her music and all of the volume I started hiding in the bar when La Gata Negra played. Despite the nice company I started to feel bored and frustrated with the music and sound and drank a prosecco and a glass of wine in quick succession while Albert was still on his civilized mint tea. I was contemplating another wine when Albert, who was only now turning to his single, modest glass of wine said rightly, two glasses was enough. I'm on holiday!, I protested with sympathetic support from lady at the bar. You can smell my wine!, he said. The bar lady gave me a sorrowful look and we laughed.  I moved on to mint tea.

Dancing

La Gata Negra danced with a guy someone told me was a teacher.  It was noticeable because they were the only ones in the middle, dancing in a flashy, performance type way.   I guessed then that she might be a teacher too.  It was nothing like the way everyone else was dancing. It was distracting and broke the atmosphere.  There is a bit of everything here said a friend I met unexpectedly who lives in Amsterdam now.  That looked accurate to me.  The regular clique isn’t here he said. I took that to be a mercy. They dance like that teacher apparently.

Otherwise, there was a lot of nice, quiet dancing but fewer guys that I wanted to dance with. Indeed, the atmosphere was very different this time.  The dancers were perhaps skewed towards the older demographic on this occasion and the dancing and atmosphere was for the most part quieter.  I still liked the venue very much.

Albert and I danced, changing roles as we do.  Hans joined us and invited me after a while.  What a difference it makes to the time you have, knowing people at a milonga, more so being with people, even if just loosely.  I danced afterwards with people I knew or had been introduced to, being too tired to try for other girls and wanting to watch the guys for a bit.

Two guys walked-up, one so blatantly it was almost like a joke.   “Maybe later” I said but they understood and did not ask again. I saw a young guy in what looked like his first time in swapped roles.  I was curious and went to chat to him.  It turned out to be true.  He was from Antwerp visiting with his teacher. 

Mieka, one of the ladies I danced with last time came up to say hello which was lovely.  I saw the beautiful blonde who dances both roles but she seemed to be with a guy friend that evening. And I met magnetic Wilhelmina, "Wil". She was impossible to miss, taller than me, six one or six two perhaps and striking.  Her voice when I met her was surprisingly gentle. She wore beautiful wide, flowing trousers which were gold or gold and black and her dark hair was up. I wanted to dance with her but she was popular there and I did not like my chances. Yet she accepted and we did dance both in heels first which is one of the biggest challenges I know for balance between girls so tall. I would see her several times that week and we would dance many more tandas.

I watched a gregarious guy to whom Albert had introduced me in the bar. He was also from the north of the Netherlands. He wore a startlingly white shirt and black trousers.  He was well groomed without being one of those “tangueros” with pinstripe trousers and flashy shoes which say most of what you need to know before you even see them dance.  These things and the way he danced drew the eye to him. He looked easily the best guy dancer there, musical, quiet in dance and most of all, sensitive to the partner, waiting for the partner.  I was confirmed again in: If you want to know who the best dancer is, look for the quietest man.  

I did not for a moment think we would dance.  But soon he walked right up to invite.  Or rather it felt more like an assumption that Of course we would dance.  I hesitated only a moment, through surprise.  It was one of those quirks that tell you the world is full of exceptions to the usual way of doing things which is one reason why rules for milongas are so deadening.  It was of course a real dance, meaning memorably good, meaning he was one of those guys who make you feel like you are their whole, deep focus for those moments.   It was 10pm and I felt I could go home.  Afterwards, Hans, said correctly, "That will be your best dance of the night".  "You dance well", I said.   Astute and modest his look this time was as if to say: More's the pity, not like that. Hans is the kind of guy who can say - possibly, if you choose to interpret it that way - more and more safely with an expression than with words.     

At the end of the tanda I asked the guy in the white shirt: How did you learn to dance like that?  He looked surprised.  So calmly, so smoothly, I said.  Like nearly all guys who dance that well, he did not say In class, or With my maestro.  He did say, as an after thought that he had a back injury - though you could not tell - and that he did sport to ensure his back was strong for balance. 

His reply though was about character.  He said if his dancing was calm it was perhaps because his character was like that.  That idea that dance reflects, expresses, transmits character made perfect sense to me, reflecting the compatibility I had felt in dance.  This truth is why people talk about being vulnerable in dance, why you can’t really hide things about yourself, your character, in dance because they are sensed by the partner.

What he also said though, in a way that made it the main point was: I watch people.