TangoSpam:La Vida Con Deby

Feliz Dia Del Amigo

TangoSpam — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 20:57:18 -0300

On Tuesday I answered my phone at 11:30 pm. The magnificent voice on the other end was singing "Muñeca Brava". Only I have my own private tango singer calling to serenade me. It is Pablo. "¿Que haces Divina?" he asks me when he finishes, before I can answer he asks me "¿Te gustó?" How could any woman not like his voice? You would have to be deaf or really hate tango.

I tell him I was relaxing, reading. He asks me what is going on for Dia del Amigos. I tell him that Sandra and I are thinking of having everyone over to my apartment. We are going to share food, cook, the usual. "You need to learn how to make agnelottis." He says to me. I tell him that he is 100% correct. I tell him what happened when I tried to make them. I did not really pay attention when he made them last time and mine were sort of miserable looking and not as good as his. "OK" he says to me "You make the sauce this time, I will make the agnelottis and show you how." Then the best part, "I’ll bring my guitar and sing, is that OK?" I can’t believe he has to ask.

Dia del Amigo is mostly celebrated in Argentina and Uruguay. July 20th was the day the 3 astronauts landed on the moon. They became the friends of the whole world. It is the day where everyone gets together with their friends. Huge groups go to restaurants, others share in friend’s and or families’s homes. So many text messages get sent the cell phone systems break down here. People start sending their text messages the day before.

I sent my text messages the night before to almost everyone in my phone list. I even sent text messages to my ex’s. That is so Argentine. I received many text messages back and one mean phone call to my house of someone calling me a "chanta." (Que boludo) A chanta is a someone that is a fake - a deceiver. Guess they didn’t like my message. (How can you not like a message that says Feliz Dia del Amigo?) I didn’t recognize the voice so they probably had a friend call...how adult. Welcome to Argentina. I get to relive my high school dating years all over again. Keeps me young.

Today Pablo came over at noon with his friend Pepe. He has his guitar with him and a bag of spinach, mozzarella cheese. Pablo asks me to prepare mate. I am not sure why he asks me to do this, because the second I go for the Cachemate (my favorite) he sighs, "NO! El otro, la naranja!" "Si, jefe." I say to him. I prefer the Cachemate, but he likes the mate I have with the orange flavor. He starts the kettle boiling. "Where is your thermos?" He demands. This is all so funny because he knows exactly where it is. It is all so Argentine male. I roll my eyes and bring it out. Pablo prepares the mate. Pepe’s eyes are huge. Most Argentines find it all so amazing when us Americans not only drink mate but that we have mate in our homes.

My doorbell rings and soon my friends start to arrive. Michael, my gay husband, Sandra, Janis, Jorge, all come to share this day. Samy calls, he has the flu and he cannot come. I love my Sundays in Buenos Aires. It has been awhile since we shared our Sundays together. My group of friends grows and shrinks, but we share our Sundays. This is the first time that Sandra and Michael have met. Really this is the first time Michael will meet my Argentine friends. He has met Janis before.

Pablo is busy organizing the agnelottis assembly line. First he is mixing the spinach mixture. He put the spinach on to steam while we are drinking mate. Michael brought a picada and some other great things to munch on. Jorge brought miga sandwichs along with the most incredible cake. He always brings things I do not want to think about eating. He would have made the perfect witch in Hansel and Gretel.

Sandra tells Michael she will marry him for his visa. She gets exited because she can get an American visa and he can get Argentine papers. He tells her he will buy her a ring and take her on a cruise. I tell her to stop stealing all my men. She sticks her nose in the air, "I has something he wants."He is taking me on a cruise she informs me. He is buying me a ring. She says. I turn to Michael, "Boludo, you never took me on a cruise or bought me a ring. I am the wife too you know." Michael turns to Sandra, "Querida," he says to her, "A cruise to Uruguay, and the ring from Duty Free." I think the honeymoon will be short lived and I will have nothing to worry about...he will still be MY gay husband.

Pepe is helping Pablo prepare the agnelottis. He is getting the tapas ready for us to fold and whatever else Pablo needs.

Pablo is ready to start teaching me how to make the agnelottis. My kitchen is a mess. It does not seem to matter where I live, everyone always is in my kitchen. There is food all over the place. I keep trying to put things in the living room on the dining room table but people keep bringing back into the kitchen.

Pablo show us how to fold the agnelottis. It looks simple enough . I don’t know why mine were so miserable when I tried it on my own.

We have a regular assembly line going. That is me with Pablo making the agnelottis. Don’t let that sweet smile of his fool you, he is a taskmaster. He keeps checking my work and sometimes he makes me do it over! I am not sure who "caracter" is mas "fuerte" here. I just know when to be quiet....

Now these things are starting to look like something. We make 50 of them all total.

I tell Pablo this is way too many. He tells me to be quiet, again. You got to love these Argentine men.

Michael on the other hand decides it is much better to drink mate than to help out in the kitchen. I think he rather enjoys listening to Pablo telling me to be quiet...and probably more than that, me doing it.

Jorge is watching everyone and trying to decide is it better to just sit and watch or should he get involved in trying to help. For once he is behaving himself. Do not let that angel face fool you, he is anything but. (Especially when he has a little fernet and coke)

Janis decides that it is OK for Pablo to take a little break. Pepe is taking the larger break clutching a bottle of wine. Of course after being bossed around by both me and Pablo he probably needs more than a bottle of wine.

The agnelottis are boiling in two pots of water. You would think that Pablo is having a baby. He is making me crazy ordering me around. This is a side of his personality I have not seen before. Whatever happened to sweet nice Pablo singing romantic tangos. I ask him if he wants a whip. He gets a big smile on his face. Sandra tells him "I have one you can borrow." This starts a conversation I have no intention of being a part of. I think I will pay attention to my sauce.

I made the sauce on Saturday. It is a salsa tuco. I make it without meat, because I am not a meat eater. Duh. Jorge inspects my sauce. He is the one who showed me how to make salsa tuco a few months ago. Pablo is mildly surprised at how good it came out. I realize that I have never cooked for him. He has always cooked for me, so he does not know how well I cook.

Soon everything is ready. El jefe Pablo orders me to get the plates as he arranges the agnelottis on them. I spoon sauce over them. He looks over to approve. He rearranges several of the plates. He should work in a restaurant. Picky, picky, picky. I think I am going to kill him.

These pictures show us sitting down to eat. There is a feeling at these meals I that I sadly never enjoyed with my family or at my family get togethers. When I tell my friends here everything I have is here in Argentina, I mean it. These Sunday meals are very special to me.

Here you see Janis having an "orgasm over the agnelottis on her plate. I have to say they came out incredible. They were absolutely delicious. The filling was spinach, mozzarella, (tons of it)and peanuts. My sauce was red peppers, green peppers, fresh tomatoes, green onions, garlic and a little red wine. The container Pepe is passing Janis is full of fresh grated romano cheese. We also had wine.

After we finish eating we have coffee and the most incredible fruit salad and cake. I was so crazy with the kitchen that looked like it was part of the attack on the Malvinas, I forgot to take a picture of the cake. Let it suffice to say it was as dangerous as it looks. Right now it is sitting in my refrigerator. I plan to give it to the plumber to take home to his kids, failing that, to the carteneros on the street tonight.

Pablo is finally tranquilo. He gives me a big hug and thanks me for helping him with the dinner. "You know your kitchen is a big mess." he tells me. Oh duh. The hug helps.

Pablo is my good friend. Just like Jorge. The one thing I do find sad, is that generally speaking men and women are not friends here. Once one or the other is in a relationship, the friendship ends. That is one thing I do miss in the U.S. I always had lots of guy friends and it never mattered if I was in a relationship or not. I am glad that these two stay my friends no matter what.

After we eat, Pablo takes out his guitar. I never ask Pablo to sing for me. He just does. He loves to sing. He tells me that sometimes he doesn’t even realize he is singing and that one day when he was on the train, people started clapping after he finished a song. Below is a YouTube Video of Pablo singing.

Dia del Amigos is a special day in Argentina. For me

The Milonga Chronicles:Drama in the Afternoon

TangoSpam — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 20:37:57 -0300

This has not been a good week. It should be. All of a sudden in the middle of winter we are in the middle of summer. Temperatures have been in the high 70s all week long. Who would have known. Two weeks ago it was the coldest June we ever had, now it is the warmest July. Welcome to Argentina.

Prices are going up. I have no change for the bus. The old trick was to buy a pack of gum or mints. They used to cost a peso. You gave a 2 peso note or a 5 and got at least 1 peso back, enough for the bus. Now that pack of gum is around 1.25 and the mints are the same or more.

I got so frustrated I told my friends I was going to stand on the corner and go "Moneeddaaasss" like the bums do. One of my friends said I should open taxi doors on Santa Fe, it might be easier. I decided I should just wear a low cut t-shirt and wash windshields.

My knee hurts. Bad. It has not hurt like this for a long time. I was going for the bus this afternoon when something snapped. I wasn’t doing anything. I was just walking. Then it hurt. If it still hurts, I guess I should call my orthopedist...on Monday. I want to dance. I think. Ibuprofen is my friend.

Everything is so expensive now. I decide to go to Canning to dance this afternoon. I can walk there. I told Sandra I will call her when I get there to let her know what the crowd is like. I am delighted to find that the entrance is only 10 pesos. Dario and Patricia are delighted to see me. I give them both a hug and kiss. "10 pesos," I say to them, "What a bargain!" They tell me "Yes, but on Saturday it is now $18 pesos." I almost die on the spot. I guess that is why when I went a couple of weekends ago with Juan it was fairly empty.

I enter into the salon. The crowd is moderate with many familiar faces. There are men here I have not seen for a long time. I decide to change my shoes before I sit. I enter the bathroom. The woman who attends it throws her arms around me. "Che!" she is thrilled to see me. As I change my shoes she asks how I am, how my dog is. I tell her everything is fine. She shows me the recent pictures of her grandchildren. She told me she gave up falling in love with men. Her true loves are her grandchildren.

When I go out to the salon Carlito, one of the mozos comes to get me. He turns his cheek to me. I give him a big red lipstick kiss and hug. I have known him forever. He works here at Canning and also at El Arranque. I don’t go to El Arranque anymore, so I only see him when I come to Canning. As he leads me to an excellent front table, I see many old familiar faces.

I am seated next to a woman who does not look very friendly. Oh well, sometimes that is the way it is. I look to my right. There is Sandra’s ex. I need to let her know. I look a little farther and I see Rene. He is the first milonguero I met, the first time I came to Buenos Aires. His mouth drops in shock when he sees me. He immediately invites me to dance.

I love Rene. On my first trip to Buenos Aires (December 2000) I found out that I could not dance. It was a shock. In San Francisco I was an intermediate dancer. Here they thought I was a beginner. I had no clue. My teachers had no patience for me. They thought I was hopeless. This was before they discovered the power of the almighty dollar. Rene felt sorry for me and with his gentle patience tried to work with me. In his own way, he protected me from my teachers. They who I was paying would not dance with me in the milongas, because I was hopeless. However they loved to be seen with me, because I was, well, because I was me, American Blondie.

When we meet on the floor he scoops me up into his arms, "Bon bon, que bonbonberia!" He says to me. I laugh at him. "Look at you, I almost didn’t recognize you!" The tanda begins and we dance the first song. It is funny. I remember the first time I danced with Rene. He dazzled me. I have come a long way since then. We must both be thinking the same thing. He says to me "I remember the first time I danced with you. You poor thing, you were so lost. Now you dance better than me." I tell him that this is not true and give him a hug.

He asks me what I am doing. I tell him not much. I try to teach some English, translations. He asks where I have been. I tell him I mostly dance at night, but now I want to change my routine a little. It is nice to see different people. "You must have a million boyfriends." he says to me. I laugh at him. "No." I tell him. "I don’t have a million boyfriends. I don’t need a million boyfriends. I only need one." "Ok" he says, "That can be me." I laugh at him "So how is your wife and the grandchildren?" The tanda ends and he walks me back to my table.

When I get back to my table a woman is just about to sit in my seat. I politely let her know that I am sitting there. She impolitely tells me I am not. I point to my purse and things to show her that I am. Ms. CaradeCulo my table mate does nothing to help. Both are sort of unattractive Argentine women. The fact that they are unattractive is inmaterial, I know that. I also know, that they somewhat resent the invasion of foreign women. They don’t know me, so I am sure they want to lump me with all the rest. I guess I am foreign, whatever, they don’t have to be rude. I on the other hand am not intimidated and refuse to move my things. I ask Ms. CaradeCulo1 if Ms.Caradeculo2 is a friend of hers. She admits no she is not. Ms. CaradeCulo2 whines that the mozo told her that she could sit here. So finally Ms. CaradeCulo1 tells Ms.CaradeCulo2 that maybe he made a mistake. In a huff she goes off to get Carlito to prove that the dratted foreigner wrong. Except when Carlito sees me, he takes her to another table and both Ms. CaradeCulos are shocked. Come on ladies....puuullllleeeeeeeeeeeeezeeeeeeee........... this is an afternoon milonga...save the drama for the night milongas.

I finally have time to text Sandra - Canning Bueno - 10 pesos - malo porque tu cretino esta. I need to go greet a few of the men I know. I see no reason why not to start with Emilio, Sandra’s ex. Yes, I know, he is pissed at Sandra, so that means his anger extends to me as well, me being the best friend. So I saunter over to him in full view. Usually he is such a big mouth. Now he is very quiet. "Hola Emilio" I say to him. "¿No vas a saludarme?" I lean over and kiss him leaving a big red lipstick mark on his cheek. His friend laughs out loud. Emilio mumbles to me "I didn’t recognize you, you don’t look like a gringa anymore." I laugh at him. What has it been, a whole week since I last saw him? Give me a break.

I don’t have time to check my phone as I am invited to dance. It is old home week for me. I am dancing with men I have not seen for maybe a year. Do these men dance well? Most of them do not. Do I care? No. These were the men that when I first started coming to Buenos Aires were so sweet and nice to me. They are the same men, that after the accident, when no one wanted to dance with me, these same men were gentle with me while I once again wobbled around the dance floor in pain.

When I come back to my table Ms. CaradeCulo1 announces she is leaving. "Now you can have the whole table to yourself" she says to me. In my best Porteña imitation I blow her off with "No importa." She stops to say something to a man at the next table looking at me. I hope she feels better about herself. It is amazing how small some people can be. (Yes..me too I suppose.) His response is to invite me to dance while she can still see. Her mouth opens and she walks off in a huff. I don’t remember all this drama in the afternoon.

I go to dance with my friend. "Tanto tiempo" he says to me. I agree. "No veniste aca por mucho tiempo." I tell him that I live close to here and I can walk. Plus it is only 10 pesos. We start talking about the cost of milongas. He tells me that yesterday he went to El Beso and it was 15 pesos. I tell him I stopped going to El Beso on Tuesdays because there are so few people. We talk about how the milongas just keep going up in price. "It’s not just the entrance," he says. "It’s the taxi, the cost of something to drink. By the time you end the night it can be 100 pesos." I don’t want to tell him I could never spend 100 pesos in a night at a milonga. "Who has 1000 pesos to spend in a month on tango?" he asks me "Tourists" he answers before I say anything.

The tanda ends and I sit down. I have 3 lost calls and one message. I assume this is Sandra telling me she is not going to come. Before I can get into my voicemail she plops down into the seat next to me. I am shocked. We look at each other and laugh. Hug, then laugh again. "Che, tu cretino" I say to her. She tells me she got my text message in the taxi on the way over. She says to me, "You won’t believe this. The taxi pulls up right in front of him where he is out smoking a cigarette." He was so mad. I thought he was going to turn blue and die. We both start laughing. He comes back into the milonga and sits down.

We can tell he is furious. Sandra never goes to the afternoon milongas. He thought he was safe. I was bad enough. But I am more of an annoyance than anything to him. Sandra is a royal pain in the ass. The bad part for her is that because she is there, and he is there, none of his friends who are good dancers will invite her to dance. So my friend must sit. The two of them sit. Emilio refuses to dance while Sandra is there. Please do not ask me why. I live here, and there are still some things in this culture I do not understand.

I continue to dance. I see Jose Luis come in. He is the man I call my father. He comes in with a man I call Tio. In the 7 years I have known him, I still do not know his name. Jose Luis was another milonguero who "adopted" me at Lo de Celia’s. When the men would dance too close to me in a way that was not appropriate or they would invite me for "un cafecito", Jose Luis would always intercede on my behalf telling them he was my father and to watch it.

He doesn’t dance anymore, Jose Luis. After several years of bad health they discovered that he has diabetes. His left leg gives him problems. He looks much better than he did last year. I was very much afraid for him. I would ask "Tio" about him constantly. Now he comes to the milongas with Tio, content to see his friends, to listen to the music, and to drink water. I sit with him for a tanda. He tells me he has had re-educate himself on how to eat and live. "But, now" he says to me, "I have a second chance to live." Then he adds, "And maybe I will get to dance again." I give him a hug and tell him how glad I am that he is doing so much better.

There are many faces missing from this milonga. I am sure they are gone for good. Canning holds many memories for me. It always will. There is a mural on the wall of the many people who have passed through this salon. I remember the many good and the many no so good times I had here.

I go back to the table. "Che," Sandra says to me, "Check out Emilio." He is passing from table to table. God knows what he is saying. Whatever it is, they are looking at us. I tell Sandra I should put my arm around her and kiss her cheek. That would drive Emilio mad. She laughs. "I’m going to leave." she says to me. "With him here, I will never dance." It’s late, and my knee is throbbing. We change our shoes and head for the door. Just before we exit, I can’t resist "Chau Emilio" I call to him.

43 Things Tags: Tango

¡Se Ganó El Campo!

TangoSpam — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 12:52:04 -0300

Early this morning history was made. The campo won. Nobody thought it was possible. Everyone thought that the government would buy the necessary votes to get the rentenciones passed. Last night when I went to bed the vote was still 35 for and 35 against. There were still 2 senators to vote. It was said that the vice president Julio Cobos might have to cast the deciding vote.

As a foreigner living in this country, it has been very interesting to watch this whole scenario being played out. Beyond the farmers blocking the road, I cannot understand where the hell La Presidenta is. She certainly has not been before the people. She has been noticeably absent. In a time of domestic crisis when she should be addressing the country, she is no where to be found. Instead, her husband has been doing all the talking.

There are several issues here. One as a woman, I am mortified, that this woman, who was voted to run one of the largest countries in South America is letting her husband speak for her. Is she out of her mind? What the hell is she thinking? She might has well hand him back the presidency and go find someone else to do her makeup, because it is like he never left. The guy never gave a press conference in all the time he was president of Argentina, and now all of a sudden, he becomes a media star.

By letting him speak for her, he robs her of her power. But then, maybe she had no power to begin with. Maybe this was just a joke to start. Whatever it is, it is sad. It sends the wrong message to women everywhere. It is as sad as Hilary letting Bill tell her how to run her campaign. Two very capable women felled by their husbands.

From what I could see, this government refused to not only listen to the people, they refused to even see that there might be another side. The president even had the arrogance to say that she knew better about soy than even the farmers.

On Tuesday this week, the senators debated the rentenciones the president wanted passed into law. She tried to bypass the senate and that did not work. Now it was before the senators. The people wanted democratic process. It was commonly accepted that the government paid thousands of people to come to demonstrate for the government in the Plaza del Mayo. This rally was held at 3:00 pm. They estimated that there were about 150,000 people there.

Across the city in Palermo more than 300,000 and maybe as many as 400,000 people were in Palermo in a rally to support the campo. No one paid these people to come. Yes, there were farmers. BUT, there were middle class people, there were business men in suits, there were people with their kids. All these people supported the farmers and more than that, they supported the democratic process. They supported the right of the people to be heard.

None of my friends who were behind the campo held out much hope. They figured that the government would either coerce or pay the politicians to vote with them. Corruption is the favorite word in Argentina followed by asado.

Last night I was at a networking event. It was a mixed group of mostly young Argentine professionals and some assorted foreigners such as myself. I decided to drop in to meet some new people. Sometimes I get tired of tango people. Me being me, I like meeting new people, regardless of where they come from.

The retenciones were the hot topic. I had the opinions of my friends. It was interesting to receive the opinions from another group of people. The people in this group are educated, well traveled, and professional. They are very unhappy with the government. Not one person there thought the campo would win. "I hate her." said one young Argentine woman. "I hate her, but she is what we have. They will pay them with our money to vote their way." I imagine she was pleasantly shocked when she woke up this morning.

No one ever expected Julio Cobos the vice president to vote with the people. He has been a staunch supporter of the Kirchners. At 4:25 AM in Argentina he cast the vote that broke the tie. On one side of the aisle they say he voted for and with the people. On the other side of the aisle they are calling him a traitor and saying he voted against the government. Cobos said he voted with his conscience. He says he will not resign.

At 12:30 PM Argentine time he still has not spoken with La Presidenta who still by the way has not said a word. It is amazing to me she still has not called a press conference. In fact they only thing we know about "La Presidenta" is that she is going to Chaco to inauguarate a new airport. Maybe she is trying to find someone new to do her makeup.