February 22nd, 2006

It has the hustle and bustle of a large city, but at the same time also the charm of a quiet little town. In parts it reminds me of NYC. It’s just that in NYC you most of the time feel some meanness in the air together with its great energy and power, but here you feel calm and vigor, just like anything can happen.

It hasn’t been two days now and just by walking around we have managed to discover a handful of interesting little places like this tiny book-shop where literature of all sort and kind is held down with antics and strange papier-mâché figures emerge from under tables and shelves and hang from the ceiling. In the shop, apart from dusty books and surreal art, we found three men who were interested in anything but selling books. I asked if it was alright to take some pictures of the store, and the next thing we knew we were invited to try the local Mate, a sort of thick tea drunk from a wooden cup through a metal straw with a strainer on the bottom end. Ingenious.

Tango is also everywhere. In shops, cafes, and on the street. Without even trying we ended up catching a total of three Tango shows. Given, of course, they were all street performances, and only one has stricken us as truly worthy of the dance, still, it was pretty impressive. Argentinean Tango is really much more different then the usual ballroom style tango I’ve danced before. It is more casual and so much more intimate. This particular street performance that took my breath away didn’t even have live music. There was an old sound system and a speaker, all held together and connected by numerous cables and clamps. There were three people in the group: a man in his late sixties wearing a bright red shirt and black suspenders – he was circling the crowd with a money hat, a very appropriately dressed for the occasion woman in her forties, and another man in his late sixties – her dance partner. To say the least, this was an interesting sight even before they started dancing, but when they did – WOW, we stood there mesmerized. In a teeny space on a pedestrian street, surrounded by shops, onlookers, and people just passing by, this couple was exploding with passion and grace all set to music. I stood there, and could not help myself from being jealous. I kept reminding myself it all was a show, but one thought refused to leave my mind : “If my husband, at seventy, looks at me the same way he looks at her, I’d be the happiest woman on earth”. Also, it wouldn’t hurt if he moved like this guy, at seventy, either.

Tags: dancing, food
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