Sunday, December 23, 2012

Why I Love and Hate the Cabeceo

*Note: Back when I wrote this post, I'd been spelling it as "cabaceo." I've since been corrected (thanks, Terpsichoral TangoAddict!). It's "cabeceo," and it comes from "cabeza," which means "head."*

Several years ago at the Houston Tango Marathon, I arrived at a milonga and suddenly felt a piercing gaze from the back of my skull. I turned around, and in the farthest away corner of the room, a man I'd never met before clearly but subtly gestured me towards the dance floor.

I accepted immediately. Anyone who is able to cabeceo me as such a distance must know what he's doing, I thought. And I was right; he was wonderful. We ended up dancing perhaps 20 tandas over the weekend. I began to really like the cabeceo. I would use it from the other side of the room for people I wanted to dance with, and felt like I had my own little secret when someone cabeceo'd me. In fact, I started to fear the men who walked up right to my face and stuck their hands in my nose; more often than not, these men were as subtle in their dance as their "invitation."

So I began to love the cabeceo. A way for someone to ask another to dance without risk of losing face. Even I began to initiate the invitation more. I was usually so shy!

But I also realized something I began to do. On days I wanted to sit and chat with friends, or just rest, I would often keep my eyes downcast, or even suddenly dive into my purse to look for something when I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my skull. People talked about the tango community being cold and unfriendly. I think it was largely due to the cabeceo culture! People make much less eye contact for acknowledgement (something Americans do ALL the time, everywhere), and I even found that there were times dancers said hello less or chatted less with people they didn't want to dance with, even though they loved being around them! The culture of the milonga was driving people who could have been really good friends away from each other.

So I began to hate the cabeceo. A way for someone to shut someone out---not even intentionally, just because they didn't want to dance. When someone ignores a cabeceo repeatedly, it feels like they're ignoring YOU. And trust me; I've felt it.

I still have a love-hate relationship with the cabeceo, but here is a tip I've found that's worked for me for getting dances with strangers: I go out of my way to introduce myself to people I want to dance with, and express interest in dancing with them **at some point** (but not necessarily now!). That way, they know the invitation is open and they could approach me at any time (even verbally). This is the tactic I use most often at festivals. On a Friday night, I'd find someone I wanted to dance with at the END of a milonga (when there's no pressure), and tell them my name, and that I had a lot of fun watching them dance. They can then watch me in the upcoming nights and decide on their own whether or not to approach me.

How can we can make tango communities warmer? Do you love, hate, or love AND hate the cabeceo?

2 comments:

  1. Kim,This is interesting. I had no idea cabaceo (which probably means in gaze or stare in simple man's term) had so much power. You can feel it from back of your skull?
    I have read little bit about cabaceo from other people's experience, and also in couple of tango related books. Can cabaceo traverse the dim lit dance halls? What about people who wear glasses? Is their cabaceo as powerful as others?
    -Prashant

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  2. Hi Kim. I love your account. The cabaceo is not a marmite thing (love it, hate it), more Jekyll and Hyde. There's a good *and* a bad face to cabaceo (at least the way it's practiced) and I think is something followers and leaders should be aware of - and this not just in making the cabaceo work for them, but seeing that it works for the community.

    Tango is a social dance, but the hierarchy can make it very hard for people to interact normally. For the sake of others and for myself, I make an effort to resist icing up around people I might not want to dance with but who are, after all, still people out to have a good time. I've made it a conscious point to encourage people at different "levels" to mingle and chat and not to cut people I don't want to dance with off socially just to deter invitations. As a result, I've met some great people and, on balance, had more fun.

    That said, I know what you mean about sitting in a milonga with downcast eyes and negative body language. Leaders should know: it's a *terrible* thing and very far from a power kick. Having to say no to people can ruin a milonga and often followers are just trying to avoid feeling crappy when they have to say no. Trust me, we feel crappy anyway. Everytime I duck down and adjust my shoe unnecessarily, a fairy somewhere dies.

    But I think its a problem when a leader (or follower) forces the cabaceo. Just because I saw you and acknowledged you does not mean you now own me and can sail over to collect your tanda. Too many leaders use The Cabaceo as a contractual thing. so that it's impossible to return eye contact, acknowledge someone's presence in a friendly way, maybe come over and chat, without this saying yes to a dance. "AH HAH! I caught you in my tractor beam stare, I saw you see me, and now you must dance with me!" This forces us followers to get all shifty eyed and pretend we're myopic [for the record, I really *am* short sighted].

    Of course, a real (read good) cabaceo is something different (from mere eye contact). It's light, playful, flirty, delicious (mmmmm). You enjoy it so much you can't resist a dance and it you walk onto the floor already in a good mood. I bet that's how it was with Twenty Tanda Man. But in general, please note: burning holes in the back of followers heads is for confirmed tango gods and mutants. Let's keep it friendly, folks.

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