*Note: I started writing this post in January of 2012, and never got more than 2 lines until October 20th, 2013.**
Tango people are some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people I know.
So it becomes difficult to avoid falling for someone you love dancing with. Or even someone you don't dance much with, but see every other day for hours at a time.
When I started tango I was 18 years old. It's been exactly five years now, and my thoughts and opinions about the dance and people are constantly changing, growing, shrinking, and flipping out.
Tango romances are happening all over the world. But although love can be beautiful, romance within a tango community can be messy--very messy. I'm not talking about anyone in particular (or even about people that I know personally), but I've seen dozens of couples with the most extreme cases of tango drama; couples teaching together and breaking up. Couples who sacrifice love for art. Couples who sacrifice art for love. People who date their past lovers' friends. People who date their current lovers' friends. Friends who become enemies. You name it---it's there.
I took a private lesson from a very famous traveling couple once. They had been together romantically for years, and made such beautiful art! During the private, I asked them. "Do you fight??" To which the woman replied, "YES, all the time! But we need to take it off the floor; take a coffee break."
I asked another seemingly successful professional tango couple. The woman told me that anything that happens in tango, they can let go when they leave the floor. Tango is separate from their lives. But she had seen so much drama from other couples because they couldn't keep it separate.
Some of my friends are sad when their significant others don't want to dance with them, but want to dance with others. A decline in dance connection is another issue that arises often in tango relationships. "Why can't you dance with me like you dance with so-and-so?" seems to be the most common complaint.
A few dancers fall in love on the dance floor. For some it's just a 10-minute spinning affair. For others...they try out their connections off the floor, but in most of the cases I've seen, they fail. Juggling a relationship in tango is often like having two relationships.
And then there are those people who fall in love within tango, and then tango no longer becomes the center of their lives. Their partners are more important, and tango is "just a dance." These people are usually very happy in their relationships.
Exactly a year ago, I was jolted by something that whacked me so hard over the head that I had the wind knocked out of my gut. Tango doesn't need to be the center of my life. Other things can be more important. Friendship. Health. Family. Love. Even career. I'd neglected those things for years when my brain was screaming to be fed more tango. When tango took over my life, I had no time or care for anything or anyone else. I was proud, too, at the time, that tango was the center of my life. I look back now and there's nothing to be proud about. I was obsessed. Addicted. It was unhealthy.
There are people that are living happy, fulfilling lives.
With tango.
And without tango.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Like A Drug, and Not Necessarily Good
"Oh how wonderful!" My non-tango friends used to say, "you've really found a passion, something you care about!"
I agreed for a while, but then I thought about it more carefully. I didn't mean to get addicted, or so drawn in. I remember regrets of not going to certain classes or milongas, but I barely thought twice about brushing some of my non-tango friends off just to make it to a practica from beginning 'til end.
I could not stop thinking about dancing, and obsessively read, youtubed, and practiced tango. Those really were some of my happiest days. But I didn't care about anything outside of tango. When I first got a boyfriend after starting tango, I would only spend alone time with him if there was no tango. If I finally decided to let one night slide, I'd lament about it for weeks, thinking about the tango that I'd missed out that night. Looking back now, this obsession was very unhealthy.
But it did make me a better dancer.
But the better I got, the more I had to search to find that initial "high" I had during my first year of dancing. I had to travel more and more often. My "tango high" went from every single moment, to once a week, to sporadic-sometimes. Maybe that's why I especially enjoy chatting with those who "caught the tango bug" or are "addicted." I see myself in them, and get excited again and remember the "good 'ole days".
So is life better with the tango? Yes and no. No, because of non-tango events and friends that I've come to sacrifice because of it. Yes, because in tango, I've met some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people, some of whom I'm lucky enough to call my friends. I hang out, chat, and have a blast with them---even outside of the contexts of tango! Tango is wonderful. But it's NOT ONLY a dance. It's a way of life.
For the dance, the sacrifices I made may not have been worth it.
But for the people I've met in tango, tango was worth every single second.
I agreed for a while, but then I thought about it more carefully. I didn't mean to get addicted, or so drawn in. I remember regrets of not going to certain classes or milongas, but I barely thought twice about brushing some of my non-tango friends off just to make it to a practica from beginning 'til end.
I could not stop thinking about dancing, and obsessively read, youtubed, and practiced tango. Those really were some of my happiest days. But I didn't care about anything outside of tango. When I first got a boyfriend after starting tango, I would only spend alone time with him if there was no tango. If I finally decided to let one night slide, I'd lament about it for weeks, thinking about the tango that I'd missed out that night. Looking back now, this obsession was very unhealthy.
But it did make me a better dancer.
But the better I got, the more I had to search to find that initial "high" I had during my first year of dancing. I had to travel more and more often. My "tango high" went from every single moment, to once a week, to sporadic-sometimes. Maybe that's why I especially enjoy chatting with those who "caught the tango bug" or are "addicted." I see myself in them, and get excited again and remember the "good 'ole days".
So is life better with the tango? Yes and no. No, because of non-tango events and friends that I've come to sacrifice because of it. Yes, because in tango, I've met some of the smartest, kindest, and most interesting people, some of whom I'm lucky enough to call my friends. I hang out, chat, and have a blast with them---even outside of the contexts of tango! Tango is wonderful. But it's NOT ONLY a dance. It's a way of life.
For the dance, the sacrifices I made may not have been worth it.
But for the people I've met in tango, tango was worth every single second.
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Importance of Culture (and Touch)
I've noticed that people who tend to have a good connection are people who have grown up with touch. They touch, and they like to be touched. They are comfortable with touch, and have little qualms hugging/kissing many different people.
I grew up in Taiwan. My family is not "touchy." I did not greet my parents every day with a hug and a kiss; perhaps only if I hadn't seen them for months. When we talked to each other, we didn't maintain contact (hands on elbows, shoulders, etc...). And with some girlfriends, I would hug, but it would only be a greeting for closer friends, and I hugged with my arms more than my body.
Thus, I was uncomfortable with touch, especially touching strangers. The first time one of my first tango instructors danced with me, she said, "do you do ballroom?" I shook my head. "Then why is your head doing that?" I had my entire back stiffened, and since I was learning tango on the body, I pulled back with my head as far as I possibly could. I was clearly uncomfortable. I turned away from my partner because I didn't want my bubble violated. And I had a huge ass bubble.
It took many, many hours of practice before I was comfortable with certain people, and many more hours before I became comfortable dancing with strangers, too. Thus I think a "yummy" embrace comes at least a little from something learned---the comfort level of touching and being touched and being close to someone. Many cultures, like Argentine or other latino cultures, are very touchy feely. They often can get over this first hump without a problem at all. Others learn to be comfortable because of their friend circles, or even dating experiences.
Many North Americans are very yummy. But many still feel very uncomfortable. In my travels, I've found that the level of dancing in, say, Barcelona, is nowhere near as high as Seattle, but the people are much more cuddly. It makes up for a lot. And Taiwan...Taiwan is difficult. Those who have been dancing for many years have developed a higher comfort level, but VERY FEW beginners had very comfortable embraces (whereas you can find really nice, comfy embraces with SOME beginners in America). At least for the men, many who'd studied outside of Taiwan were able to become quite cuddly. Men and women don't seem to be as physically friendly with each other in Taiwan as in North America and Europe! (Even with non-tango friends, I usually greet my American friends with giant bear hugs. In Europe, they kiss). Luckily, looking at the more seasoned dancers in Asia, this comfort level can be achieved. But it can take some getting used to.
Most of the "yummiest" people I dance with probably had that comfort level up there before they started tango, but those who aren't as cuddly can still learn. Try to envelop someone with your body when you hug them, and hold for a few extra seconds (do this even outside of a dance setting!). Tango is similar to a prolonged hug, so you'd better start getting used to the hugging. Otherwise you could feel like a rock. Some rocks are really technical and even musical, but they feel hard and not very cuddly. Some people might like cuddling rocks, but I like cuddling cuddlers :).
I grew up in Taiwan. My family is not "touchy." I did not greet my parents every day with a hug and a kiss; perhaps only if I hadn't seen them for months. When we talked to each other, we didn't maintain contact (hands on elbows, shoulders, etc...). And with some girlfriends, I would hug, but it would only be a greeting for closer friends, and I hugged with my arms more than my body.
Thus, I was uncomfortable with touch, especially touching strangers. The first time one of my first tango instructors danced with me, she said, "do you do ballroom?" I shook my head. "Then why is your head doing that?" I had my entire back stiffened, and since I was learning tango on the body, I pulled back with my head as far as I possibly could. I was clearly uncomfortable. I turned away from my partner because I didn't want my bubble violated. And I had a huge ass bubble.
It took many, many hours of practice before I was comfortable with certain people, and many more hours before I became comfortable dancing with strangers, too. Thus I think a "yummy" embrace comes at least a little from something learned---the comfort level of touching and being touched and being close to someone. Many cultures, like Argentine or other latino cultures, are very touchy feely. They often can get over this first hump without a problem at all. Others learn to be comfortable because of their friend circles, or even dating experiences.
Many North Americans are very yummy. But many still feel very uncomfortable. In my travels, I've found that the level of dancing in, say, Barcelona, is nowhere near as high as Seattle, but the people are much more cuddly. It makes up for a lot. And Taiwan...Taiwan is difficult. Those who have been dancing for many years have developed a higher comfort level, but VERY FEW beginners had very comfortable embraces (whereas you can find really nice, comfy embraces with SOME beginners in America). At least for the men, many who'd studied outside of Taiwan were able to become quite cuddly. Men and women don't seem to be as physically friendly with each other in Taiwan as in North America and Europe! (Even with non-tango friends, I usually greet my American friends with giant bear hugs. In Europe, they kiss). Luckily, looking at the more seasoned dancers in Asia, this comfort level can be achieved. But it can take some getting used to.
Most of the "yummiest" people I dance with probably had that comfort level up there before they started tango, but those who aren't as cuddly can still learn. Try to envelop someone with your body when you hug them, and hold for a few extra seconds (do this even outside of a dance setting!). Tango is similar to a prolonged hug, so you'd better start getting used to the hugging. Otherwise you could feel like a rock. Some rocks are really technical and even musical, but they feel hard and not very cuddly. Some people might like cuddling rocks, but I like cuddling cuddlers :).
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Surpassing your peers and teachers
It does happen.
If you work really, really hard, at some point in time, you may have invested more time and effort than some of your peers.
It is possible to surpass your peers, and sometimes even instructors, if you are continually growing and they have stopped growing at a certain point. It's simple mathematics. Someone who dances 15 hours a week for 1 year, will probably be better than someone who's been dancing for 1 hour a week for 5 years. At some point, you may have put more hours of work into your dancing than some of your peers have.
Of course you'll have to take into account efficiency and quality of instruction; constantly challenging yourself will allow you to improve more quickly than always staying in your comfort zone or practicing bad habits.
In a previous blog I mentioned that I am more likely, at least in my own community, to dance with a rapidly improving beginner dancer than an intermediate dancer who's been dancing the same way for many years. I am extremely curious about those caught the "tango bug" and I will pay more attention to the students who work the hardest rather than students who are the fastest at picking up the material.
Most of my students, in technique, were much better than I was in my first technique classes. People have so much potential, but it's those who actively find partners to practice with, seek out quality classes, do drills in their kitchen and supermarket, and dive head-first into tango seem to succeed the most in terms of improving.
If you work really, really hard, at some point in time, you may have invested more time and effort than some of your peers.
It is possible to surpass your peers, and sometimes even instructors, if you are continually growing and they have stopped growing at a certain point. It's simple mathematics. Someone who dances 15 hours a week for 1 year, will probably be better than someone who's been dancing for 1 hour a week for 5 years. At some point, you may have put more hours of work into your dancing than some of your peers have.
Of course you'll have to take into account efficiency and quality of instruction; constantly challenging yourself will allow you to improve more quickly than always staying in your comfort zone or practicing bad habits.
In a previous blog I mentioned that I am more likely, at least in my own community, to dance with a rapidly improving beginner dancer than an intermediate dancer who's been dancing the same way for many years. I am extremely curious about those caught the "tango bug" and I will pay more attention to the students who work the hardest rather than students who are the fastest at picking up the material.
Most of my students, in technique, were much better than I was in my first technique classes. People have so much potential, but it's those who actively find partners to practice with, seek out quality classes, do drills in their kitchen and supermarket, and dive head-first into tango seem to succeed the most in terms of improving.
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