Word: tangoes
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...driver Gustavo had exclaimed while we waited for the light to change. Grinning, he directed our attention toward the Plaza. Inside the square, a group of about 15 people were assembled under a string of lights. His niece was among them, enraptured in an elegant tango as if she had popped off the front of a postcard...
...could blame me, though, for succumbing to the din of tango just barely detectable through the backseat of our car? I was hungry for authenticity, craving connection. Our family had been duped the previous night by the advice of a friend who had recently visited Argentina. We had ended up at a tango show reminiscent of amateur night on “Dancing with the Stars,” replete with lip-syncing, garish dresses, and food as bland as the semblance of culture the venue served...
...this evening Gustavo was more than happy to take a tango-inspired detour (though my brother was convinced I’d gone insane). Gustavo giddily pulled over to the side of the road as if he’d suggested that we stop off himself. As we emerged from the cab and approached the Plaza, a hodgepodge of teenagers and people who could easily have been that age during the turmoil of the 1970s welcomed us to their Friday night ritual. One of the older members of the group picked up the karaoke microphone. His face illuminated by dangling...
...property. But then, a nod in my direction; I was being asked to dance. Turns out Gustavo was quite the matchmaker. The best part: my partner, a 60-something-year-old expert with enough wrinkles to map out an intricate dance routine, was a professor of tango. He was happy to teach me some steps...
...grab the handkerchief from his shirt-pocket to blot my clammy hands). Yet as I struggled to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, I found myself getting swept away. For the first time on our trip, I truly felt in sync. This was not prepackaged tourist tango. It seemed simultaneously genuine and surreal—so much so that if my partner had relinquished my hands at any point, I might have been tempted to pinch myself...