Enjoy the Tango

One of my favorite songs integrated in Tango.

Tango Argentino

Another tango festival is over.. This one marks my one year anniversary of Argentine tango. I remember last year, at the same festival, I was an antsy newbie volunteering at the door, barely able to dance. It was only 3 weeks since I started tango and all I wanted was to be able to carry on for one tanda decently without falling. I didn't think I was good enough even to take any of the workshops. What a mistake. I didn't know back then that I had wasted a great opportunity.

One year and I have been to three local, three out-of-town festivals, one workshop weekend plus another that I myself organized. 

Tango is like that, it takes you in without you realizing, you look back after one year and can't believe how big of a part tango had in your year past. I did this facebook thing at the end of last year, this one app basically makes a cool looking ppt slide with a random collage of your statuses in that year. My collage was full with tango, from the beginning till the end. 

Tango is just like that. It sucks you in so well that, you start dancing at noon, take 3 full workshops and bust your ass, stay for practica although you know your feet need rest, but you still dance. Your calves and your abs ache to accompany your feet. You go home for a quick shower and change of clothes, and you show up at the milonga. You dance non-stop only taking a break to watch performances for 15 minutes, and you go again. Midnight comes and passes, you are still on your feet. You still didn't have enough. This milonga ends, you wear all your winter outerwear, take your shoes and drive off to the other studio for the all-nighter. This is the best part. Only the passionate crowd remains, nonetheless remaining a crowd. You dance the night away. Your feet throb with pain, but you don't care. When the morning approaches, you drive home, after 18 hours of dancing, your feet hurt even when it touches the gas pedal. You are tired, but also incredibly happy and full of energy. You can't wait for the next day's workshops.

The best milonga in a festival for me is always the welcome milonga. Everyone is eager to dance, although many has just arrived from out of town, although the past week's stress and busy schedule only ended a few hours ago, the energy in the room is immense. I've always had my best dances on Fridays. Sundays are nice, too. After a full weekend of workshops and the high-end Saturday milonga, the atmosphere on Sundays is much less tense, people are more casual, floor is less crowded, dancing is relaxed. You can actually cabaceo for a change. 

Tango is such an interesting culture. It is old school. It is sexy, it is flirty, it is extremely flattering to the woman. You are being cared for, being hold close, being protected. But it is also very macho. The guy never comes and asks you to dance. No push-overs, no tipping on the shoulders. The guy only makes eye contact. If you'd like to dance, you reciprocate, and both of you meet at the dance floor. If you don't, the guy just turns his eyes away from you, and his ego is protected. No one has to know.

This is cabaceo.

The beauty of Argentine tango lays in so many layers of its culture. First of all, it's a social dance, which means, there are no competitions, no show, no stage. You dance for yourself. You go to a milonga, you don't need to know anybody. You can dance with total strangers. It is spontaneous. No formulas, no routines, no counting steps, no choreography. Every step is for it's own joy, every step can lead to every other step. As the lady, you only know the step you're taking at that moment. You live the moment. You connect with a stranger in a subtle but well spoken body language and let the music take you both over. And that is Tango Argentino.

I slept much less and worked much more this weekend, yet still danced all the time in between. Normally I skip a few things every festival, go to the milongas late, and rest in between. This time, I was in charge of setup and decorations, so I had to be there first, and had to leave last. I also hosted a very dear-to-my-heart couple for the festival. And I did not sit my butt down for a second - I danced non-stop. 

So here I am, on a Monday, after a full festival followed by a full day of work plus school, my feet still throbbing, but I'm mad because I couldn't go to the good-bye milonga - it overlapped with my school work. 'Coz it doesn't matter how exhausted you are. When you hear tango music, you stop hearing what your feet tells you... you only hear your heart. You dance.

Friday night with NM

Isn't it very rare that you enjoy a very unimportant outing much more than you thought you would?

I went to tango this evening. After a very dry season of tango during the holidays (although I had a very enjoyable New Year's Eve Milonga) this one class + practica felt very good. My favorite leader was not there, but oh well. As I always say, you can't do much about the ones that got away.

I'm very proud of myself for the last few weeks: I follow my heart, I work hard, I push my body to its extreme in bikram yoga and I dance like nobody is watching in tango. My feet are on fire. There is nothing better than a tiring night of milonga that lasts until the wee hours of the morning. The sizzling pain on the balls of your feet is only your proof of the fun you had. When you ditch your expensive shoes aside and start dancing with bare feet it's even better.

So after a very normal but long awaited tango evening, two girls go to the bar they always go to. They enjoy three beers each, non-stop talking, about tango, about work, about guys, about friends, and they end the night with trying to get out of paying parking fee and spending a good half an hour laughing about the failure they had.

Man, there isn't a better world.

Although, it is very ironic and painful to say but, my vacation related problem has been resolved today. It turns out, I could have gone home for the holidays, and still be able to come back for work in time. I could have spent an unforgettable week in my college town, with friends I haven't seen for the longest time, and I could have entered the new year with family, celebrated my dear daddy's birthday, after years of not being able to do so.

Could've would've should've..

When you decide you should take chances, it never pays of; and when you say I'll play it safe this time, it comes back and bites you in the ass or rubs the good outcome on your face.

I either need a very awesome love affair or very good fortune in gambling. I'll take either.


Happy Wednesday to you all.

Impressions from my first session of Bikram Yoga

I don't meditate. I am not spiritual at all, and I don't actively think about healing, breathing, emitting good thoughts etc. It bores me, and although I have tried it many times, I never got a hold of it.

I am not an exercise-maniac. As a foreigner in US, I too can observe the health - fitness - exercise mania here. Everyone jogs. Everyone goes to the gym. It's considered small talk if you talk about your running schedule, as if you're talking about the weather. I'm not saying it is a bad thing. I actually like it, and am constantly trying to push my potential in exercising (which is not much).

Unfortunately back where I am from (maybe I will start using, affectionately, "back in St. Olaf"), physical activity is not too much of a focus in a teenager's life. The most kids get is to play soccer or basketball, which very rarely girls in the neighborhood or at the school do. We had PE teachers at school, who'd make us run the circumference of the school property a few times, and we would pant like dogs, and no one ever told us to "pace" ourselves. We always felt we were no good at any kind of physical activity, we couldn't even run! I consider it a loss for my teenage years. I wish I was hooked on running back then. After 25 I started running, even did a few 5Ks - big accomplishment for me! - but shortly in a year my knees gave away, not being properly used for a quarter century. A combination of the runner's knee and the IT band syndrome, no strengthening exercise or physical therapy helped. Now, I am a retired runner. Peh.

So I've been looking into activities that do not involve too much pressure on knees. Yes, I know, swimming. Yes, I grew up on the cost, I do swim well. But no, friends, I do not want to go to the pool every other day to swim. First, it is too easy to skip, for a professional procrastinator like me. Second, I like having fun at a pool, and swimming back and forth is very, very boring. Third, I already have too many showers a week, I think if I spend more time in water my skin may just start falling off.

Lucky for me I found Argentine Tango, which, miraculously, does not do much on my knees. Though I should admit your metatarsals start complaining after a while. But still, it's not really "exercise".

So I started Pilates, which I love. I go to group classes when I can afford, or else do it at home with a dvd on tv (which does not happen as often as I would have wanted). For a person whose belly is never going to disappear, you can imagine how great pilates is.
Recently though, a friend of mine, who has been going to Bikram Yoga for  some time, has been marketing it so well, that I finally gave up my non-existing money and gave hot yoga a try.

For strangers to the subject, Bikram Yoga is a series of postures and breathing exercises, carried out in a very hot and humid room. I think it is about 40 degrees Celcius (105oF). This ensures the exercise will be completely cardiovascular, and your muscles can stretch without being sore the next day. Or so it is said. My quads were a tad too sensitive the next day.

So you enter this reception area, where you see through the glass doors of the studio the people who are in session. Shockingly you realize they all wear bikini-like outfits. You only brought a baggy tank top and shorts. How else can you cover that huge belly? Especially when trying out those weird-ass postures, you don't even want to think how your your mid-section will look like. Man, even the guys are in speedos. Wait a second, is it just me or do 90% of those guys NOT have a single hair on their body? Wow, helloooo metrosexuality. Wait wait wait, they don't seem to have an inch of fat in their body either. Every muscle on their body looks like a drawing in an anatomy book. Man, this hot yoga better work on me too!

Their session ends, the instructor gets out with a half-hearted "Namaste" thrown away. You see that she is wet, as if she got out of the shower. She's not panting though, a good sign. People slowly start pouring out of the darkened studio. Everyone's face is red, but every single one of them is happy and bursting with energy. I immediately look forward to my beaming exit from the studio after my first session.

Although I am more covered than many in the room, having a tank top, I still feel incredibly naked. So I find a corner on the benches, get a "Bikram Yoga for Starters" kind of book in my hand and pretend to read. Someone calls my name. It's a guys voice, it cannot be my friend who invited me. Nope, it definitely is a guy. I look around, and to my astonishment, I see one of the tango instructors along with his girlfriend, all in sweat, dressing up. Apparently they were in the previous session. I say hi, kind of happy to see a known face, but also weirded out since I feel a little too naked. Certainly we all think how small a place Ann Arbor is. They wrap up, drink some more water and get going. I sigh.

My friend arrives shortly, gets undressed right at the reception (I had crawled my way to the changing rooms at the back),  gets her water bottle and enters the room. I remember her suggesting getting in early so your body adjusts to the heat a little bit before class. I take my stuff and get in the studio behind her.

Oh. My. God. The smell. Is. Intolerable.
It is 8:30pm, the last session of the day. The sweat from all the previous sessions remain in the studio. I buckle up with disgust ever so slightly. I know my nose will adapt soon. I pray it will be VERY soon.

I take a spot behind my friend, still able to see myself in the mirrors. Apparently it is a big part of Bikram Yoga. I lay my mat and towel, start stretching like I would before a run. I get dizzy in 5 minutes. I decide to sit and wait for the class to begin, while practicing nasal breathing. That's another key practice of Bikram Yoga, my friend said. The explanation has something to do with not alarming the brain - when you breath through your mouth the brain thinks it's in distress. I don't know how it works, but if it works, fine. Although I must admit I have very narrow nasal passages, and have always had trouble breathing through my nose. Especially in this stinky room, my reflexes are not to use my nose at all.

Then the instructor comes back in, checks my position in front of the mirrors, and we start. Simple breathing, standing up. I go dizzy every time we push our heads back. But come on, all these people can do it! I sure can do it. And I do. After a few more postures, I am completely surprised at my ability to carry on. Not easily, but still. And boy, did you see how I managed that posture! Wow. Who knew? My energy is only enough for a short amount of time, tough. I am getting tired with all these postures we are doing standing up, my heart beat is off the roof, I want to lay down. I start watching the time - not a good sign. Luckily, after a few poses, we do lay down. Yay!
Between every posture that we do on the mat, we lay down on our back and try completely relaxing. Although the postures don't seem to be too hard, doing them in that extreme heat is a big ass challenge. Every time we lay down on our backs, my movements become slower, and I am more aware of my heart beat.
I am amazed though, that I kept breathing through my nose. The moisture of the room must have something to do with it.
Bits of satisfaction start filing me in as we draw to the end of the session. I could stretch more than some others in the room, which means I'm not a total loss. I did not faint. Yes my balance truly sucked in some standing up postures, but I know from PT that one of my legs is shorter than other and screws up  my body alignment - so , oh well.
And the last posture where we twist our bodies to its possible extreme felt really good.

So I survived my first hot yoga session - the full 90 minutes! As I leave the studio out into the fresh air of the reception area, I feel my heartbeat on my face, but I'm not panting and I'm happy. I sit out for a few minutes, and follow others into the changing room. I have a warm shower, not too warm. Funny, I thought showering was compulsory, but only my friend and I shower, of all the women who were in there. Eww. Gross.
I come out to see almost everyone gone. My friend quickly gets dressed and leaves. I am, however, in a slow-mo movie. Everything I do is incredibly slow. I pack my things, I dress up, and I am probably the last one to leave the room.

My face is red, and I am full of energy. Go figure.