¡Que Zapato!
I never put on a pair of shoes until I’ve worn them at least five years.
–Samuel Goldwyn
Buenos Aires, April 1
Someone has to be playing an April Fool’s prank. I look in my messenger case, the one I take all over town and the one in which I keep my Tango shoes. There is only one shoe.
These are very good shoes, purchased here in Buenos Aires and rebuilt in Virginia so that they hug my heel and push my toe to the front of the shoe. Before I bought the shoes, I was having trouble walking in time to the music and leading properly. I don’t want to mislead anyone, in both senses of the word, but I still have trouble walking in time to the music and leading properly. Yesterday my entire lesson consisted of walking with my instructor in proper time to the beat and then adding a quicker step as a double beat.
Bum…Bum…BuhBuhBUM…Bum…Bum…BuhBuhBUM…
It is one of the hardest things I do. It is harder than the steps we practiced in the last post because here I have to really feel the music. Here I have to time my steps. There is nothing but my rhythm and my intention and my confidence to guide me. It is very basic and very difficult and even extremely accomplished dancers must practice this all the time.
I search my apartment in a sweat, hoping that maybe I was just rearranging things in the bag. There is only one shoe. Perhaps I opened my bag on the Subte and it fell out? I lost a pair of nice sunglasses last week. I was having neck pain and shifted the bag’s strap to my other shoulder. The glasses were propped on my head and I may have knocked them off. I think I would know if a shoe dropped out. I doubt very seriously that there was a thief who was looking for a single right shoe. The only other explanation is that I emptied out my messenger bag at the studio yesterday to get my wallet and left one of the shoes in the dark entrance foyer.
On my way to the lesson, I think of alternate scenarios. I could buy I new pair, but without the heel reconstruction the foot wouldn’t be far enough forward for me to really feel the floor. Maybe I can learn to dance a One-Legged Tango. Perhaps Riverdancing is in my future. I readjust my bag again, hoping the other shoe won’t drop.
I sheepishly walk into the foyer of the dance studio. Guadalupe is a few minutes earlier and I tell her what happened. She at first expresses concern, then mirrors my self-mocking amusement, and then she tells me that when someone is an idiot people her parents age say “¡Que Zapato!” to indicate the person’s foolishness. Also Guada tells me that in a dance hall it is common to call someone who can’t dance un zapato, as in “How was it [the dance]?” The answer: “Not good, bailando con un zapato.”
That idiot! Dancing with one shoe! Both use the singular form of los zapatos: shoes.
There is a different attendant behind the desk and she has no idea if a shoe was left yesterday. She looks under the counter and starts laughing. She pulls out my other shoe.
Now I can start the lesson properly and learn to walk all over again.
Bum…Bum…BuhBuhBUM…Bum…Bum…BuhBuhBUM…
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Writer Photographer Man of Mystery
Sam Krisch
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop… Ba Ta Bum.
A question – not really a comment. I have NO qualifications for this comment other than I did partner a seriously rhythm-challenged friend during long months of dance classes….And: living in South American, I find that “they” do not put a big emphsis on counting….they, as you say, insist that you “feel” the music. I contend that you cannot “feel” the music until you can count it…(I’m such a prissy gringa….never popular in any Latin country with a new dance partner) So, here is what I would try….(1) come up with a count…the bum, bums….or: slow, slow, tango-close is one have heard…or: step, step, step-together, stop….or: good ol, one and two…..(whatever the count actually is) It seems your teacher is proposing the “feel” method of the music, but implore her to TRY to come up with a count. Then: you count right out loud (over, and over, and over, etc) I do not for one minute think the Latin American countries “feel” one thing more than their neighbors to the North, but perhaps they get there without the counting…you seem worried about the rhythm – so just take it out of the picture – and shout it out…(I truly believe this will work). I thought the video was just lovely and your dancing was great. Really – you are very very close to a “breakthrough”. And trust me: you will “feel” the music in capital letter once you can count it…. All the best, jacqrio
Actually, we count all the time, Jacqrio. Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, etc. I agree that there are many ways to try to make the rhythmically challenged gringo to learn. In the next video, you’ll see a longer dance rather than just steps and you’ll see that whether you call it feeling or whether you call it counting, I’m trying to learn to keep time to the music. Thanks.