TangoSpam:La Vida Con Deby

How The Dog Park Changed My Life

TangoSpam — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 01:53:58 -0300

If you have been reading this blog for any amount of time, then you know, that I have been suffering from pain in my back. In 2006 I was in a bad car accident here in Buenos Aires. I fractured my hip and damaged my knee. I thought that I had recovered from that accident. I am not a hypochondriac and I don't like being told no. I pushed myself beyond what my doctors thought I could do.

I knew my body was not the same, but I pushed myself harder. I was not going to give up. For years after I had a nagging pain in my back. My doctor blew it off. It was the humidity of Buenos Aires. It was the aftermath of the accident. The same for my knee. The pains got worse.

If you knew me during this time, I was a mess. I was not me. I was exhausted all the time. Me, the person who could go on 4 hours of sleep. The pain became insufferable. I think in the last year and a half I saw probably 8 orthopedists, 2 neurosurgeons, and 2 rheumatologists. I went to physical therapists, accupuncture, and massage therapists. Everyone had their opinion on what was wrong with me.

The orthopedists and the neurosurgeons all wanted to carve me up for something I did not have. Thank God for Dr. Brain my neurologist. He read my MRIs and told me I didn't need surgery. They were all convincing in their stupid doctor ways. You have to wonder, were they stupid? Or did they just want to make money?

The Internet can be a fabulous tool. When the first doctor told me I had lumbar stenosis I went to the Internet to research it. Hello. I did not have one symptom. I could write a book on the little devices they wanted to install in my back - X-Stop, Cofler, Pixus. The funny thing was I knew more about them, than the silly doctors who wanted to shred my back and install them.

The rheumatologists? The one with his fancy degrees sent me to GPR. (Global Postural Re-eduacation) He blew me off on to the son of his colleague. A young man who eventually told me that there was nothing wrong with me. The drugs he prescribed didn't help. He told me to do sit-ups. When I told him that sometimes the pain was so bad I wanted to die, he rolled his eyes.

The famous neurosurgeon who was dazzled by her own credentials began to grow fangs when she told me what she wanted to do my back. It was horrifying. "You are so young." she clucked. "What a shame." The one positive thing she did was send me to a pain clinic.

They believed me when I told them I did not have stenosis. You can't walk 30 blocks and have stenosis. They decided to take more xrays. The xrays none of the others wanted to take. Because the CAT scan showed no stenois and what it did show was that one vertebrae had moved over the other. Very common in athletes and dancers, they told me. That was why I had pain. That and I had arthritis. I had heard that before. Except none of the drugs for arthritis helped.

About a month ago they gave me a fancy guided block. It was supposed to make all the pain go away. It didn't. I still felt like a truck had driven over me every morning. I was exhausted. I figured it was from the chronic pain. They told me to go swimming. I hate swimming.

One day in the dog park with Maxi an older woman approached me. She stopped and looked at me and asked me what was wrong. I told her I had arthritis in my spine and that I was in pain. She took my hands in hers and looked into my face. She told me to call a doctor at Hospital Italiano. It was a very strange meeting. She made me repeat his name 3 times and to promise to call him.

I go to this dog park every Sunday with Maxi. We are the same crowd of people. I have never seen this woman there before. She said she was from Tandil and her dog needed to run. I figured that I had seen so many idiot doctors, one more didn't matter. There was something about this woman, that made me want to call for an appointment. It took almost 2 months to get one with him.

Two weeks ago I went to see this doctor. I was the youngest person in the waiting area by probably 20 years. I seemed to be the only one not in a wheelchair, using a walker, or a cane. Talk about feeling out of place. I clutched my millions of xrays waiting to see him.

I walked into a small room. There was a doctor sitting behind a computer and a young woman doctor off to the side. I offered my xrays but he waved them away. "Sit down." he barked at me. I did. I don't think I had much choice. The other idiot doctors all asked me to tell my life story. This guy didn't want to hear it. He started asking me questions. "How do you feel in the morning?" "How do you feel 2 hours after you get up?" I could not believe it. It was like school. He didn't miss a beat. He just kept asking me question after question.

Finally he told me to stand up and touch my toes. I did. Then they asked me to do a bunch of tests for flexibility. I wowed them. I don't think I had much competition, considering the waiting room. At some point I think they were having fun with me. Then they asked me to lay on the table. The woman associate began to press points on my body. I thought I was going to die. It was horrible. When she got to my back I wanted to slap her. I didn't think that was a good idea.

When she was done and I got down, the doctor looked at me and said "Señora, you have fibromyalgia." "Huh?" That never entered my mind. He explained that it was very difficult to diagnose, but I had a classic case. There are 18 points in the body to test. Usually 11 are inflamed. I had all 18. My back was worse because of my dancing. He told me he felt badly for me. My arthritis is not that bad nor is the problem with the vertebrae. This was my problem all along and none of the drugs that I was taking were the right ones. He gave me a prescription for two more. "Don't worry." he said to me. "There are many drugs we can try until we get the right ones. Come back when you can get an appointment, in a month or 6 weeks."

Could it be this simple? I rushed to fill the prescription. I am pain free. It is weird. For the first time in a long time I have no pain. I am also sleeping. What a trip. I always thought the pain in my shoulders and neck were from using the computer. The pain in my arms from bad dancers. I justified everything.

Weather changes still bother me. Now all I need is tylenol and darvocett instead of an army of drugs. I am still tired at times, but not like before. They say this can be corrected. I am just happy to be pain free. I am happy to have my life back. I can dance again.

The doctor says I have to be monitored. The drugs sometimes have to change. Whatever. He says all the exercise that I do along with the Alexander Technique is great. I have been reading up on this syndrome as they call it. Some doctors refuse to believe that it exists.

I always knew throughout this whole ordeal that there would be an answer. I never gave up. I just kept going to doctors. I figured sooner or later I would find one that would know what was really wrong with me. I finally did and in the oddest way. In the dog park.

I looked at a couple of forums on fibromyalgia but those places are not for me. I never wallowed in self pity. I just kept pushing on. It was not easy. But it was better than being carved up for something that I didn't have. I am lucky that in the Argentine medical system I can go to a doctor without a referral. I could have seen every doctor in my book if I wanted. (Now that is a scary thought.) I just had to do it in Spanish and with doctors who hated a patient who knew more than they did at times. I know my body.

They do not know what causes fibromyalgia. It can be a tragic event such as my accident was. They say it is the nerve endings gone wild. I know for me, that I will not let it dominate my life. I am thrilled to death that I do not have pain. I know now that if it comes back, then there are other drug options. For the time being it is two pills in the morning and 1 at night, the gym, walking, and of course tango.

Whose Tango Is It?

TangoSpam — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 09:51:39 -0300

Last week I was talking to the woman who owns Bien Porteño. She sometimes shares my table in Gricel on Monday nights. I have known her brother Armando for years. We have other Argentine friends in common. I mentioned to her how much I thought the tango had changed. “No,” she told me. “The tango has not changed. You have changed. The magic is not there for you anymore. Now, you know the tango.”

I have since thought about what she said. In some ways I agree with her, but in many ways I do not. Yes, I have changed. When I first came here I was overwhelmed by the milongas in Buenos AIres. I thought everyone could dance. I know now this is not even close to being true. I loved the idea of being able to dance as much as I wanted. I would start my day at an afternoon milonga dancing at 4 in the afternoon and not stop dancing until 4 or 5 in the morning. I could do this 7 days a week until my feet could no longer take it. I remember telling people I felt like the little mermaid in the morning. It felt like knives were stabbing my feet with every step I took.

It didn’t matter. Armed with bottles of ibuprofen, buckets of ice water and salt, I would deal with my swollen feet, refusing to rest them. I had to dance. The men were waiting for me in the milongas. That is what they told me. I would eagerly rush to the milongas looking for them to dance with. Patiently, they would help me with my dance. I was learning in the style of the milongueros. I was mesmerized by the milonga culture. I didn’t want to spend time in classes. I didn’t learn well that way. I learned by watching, by listening, and being corrected.

In the arms of some old guy I would get a music lesson. In the U.S. you dance the same to every song. People dance tango to vals, a tango variation to milonga, the same steps to everything. Here in Buenos Aires I was told that you dance different to each orchestra. Long back steps to DiSarli, more giros to D’arienzo. It was exciting. There was so much to learn and the milonga was my teacher.

After a couple of years I stopped most of the afternoon milongas. I just went out at night. Every night. The muscles were built up in my feet and they had stopped hurting. I had also discovered a shoemaker who made shoes I could really dance in all night. I don't know what I would do without Leo.

Now I have been living here almost 5 years. I still dance tango. I still love my dance. Now I am wiser. Tourists often ask me “How do people here stay out all night and then go to work?” Because those people don’t work. They live in the milonga. They get a free entrance. They are charming. They look for someone to buy their drink. They look for someone to take them home so they have somewhere to sleep. The next day is the same. Maybe if they dance well enough someone will take them out of the country and present them as a tango teacher.

Women who are militantly politically correct in their own country become butter in the arms of a man who sleeps on a chair in a car wash. In the only suit he owns he showers them with compliments they would never accept in their own country, careless caresses they would have them arrested for. Somehow in Buenos Aires it is alright. He dances. He is Argentine.

Men who never fall prey to the women of the night find themselves feeling sorry for the grandmotherly woman who has not the money to buy her medications. The young woman who can’t buy her son’s books. A sad face and a few tears can buy wonders in the milonga. There is always a small problem a few pesos can resolve.

I have seen it all. I know the cast of characters. They know longer hold any mystique for me. In that regard my friend is correct. There is no longer any magic around the milonga. I go to dance, to listen to the music. Nothing more. Now when I watch, it is more like street theater. The foreigners throwing themselves at the Argentines. The Argentines running around like pieces on a chess board. One of my friends says to me her milongueros friends says that the “foreign women are like rain – always falling.”

I do not agree with my friend when she says the tango has not changed. In many ways it has. In 2000 when I first came here I would never had dared to wear pants to a milonga let alone jeans. Now you see both. People came to Buenos Aires to dance tango because it was Mecca. You came because it was the heart of tango. It was the only place where tango was danced the way it was danced here. People had traditions and codigos that were strictly observed and it was expected that the extranjeros (foreigners) would observe them as well.

In 2004 the government of Buenos Aires was determined to capitalize on the tango for tourism. Shoe stores sprang up on every corner. Quality was no longer an issue. Made of cardboard and plastic with prices as high as those in Europe and the USA, tourists wanted “authentic” tango shoes. Tango shows charging outrageous prices with a dance that hardly resembled tango and prices no Argentine could ever hope to pay, were all over the city. Everyone became a tango teacher. Academias del tango were in every barrio. Tango hotels, tango clothes, tango everything, and at prices no local who danced tango could ever afford to pay.

They came from all over the world to dance tango. When they got here, what they found was not what they expected. People spoke Spanish. They were not supposed to go to the tables to ask women to dance. Women were not suppose to accept dances from men who came to the table. And the people, they were so old. Where were those people who danced in the shows? Why was everyone dancing close?

People used to come to Buenos Aires to dance the “real tango.” Now they were coming to party. Women hired taxi dancers hoping to get more for their money. Men offered young women in the milongas a nice daily rate for “showing them around town.” Many locals became resentful. Others found a goldmine to capitalize on. Nobody can deny, the tango hasn’t changed.

I am dumbfounded by tourists who come here and proclaim how they have the “right” to change tango and dance it any way they want to whatever music they want. There are over 100 traditional milongas in Buenos Aires and they choose to go to milongas that are frequented by mostly foreigners dancing in the style danced in the US or Europe. Why would you spend all that money to come here?

What makes Argentine Tango unique is the abrazo – the embrace. When you take that away, you take away the essence of the dance. The tango is a seduction. It is two people playing with each other. The tango like a seduction is improvisation. It is not the same steps over and over again. When you take away the embrace, you dance the same steps over and over again, and you don’t even dance it to tango music, what are you dancing?

I don’t know. I just know, that I think it is sad. That many people no longer come here to enjoy Argentine tango for what it is. They want it to be something else. While Carlos Gavito always said, “Make the tango yours.” I don’t think this is quite what he had in mind.

This post was originally written for Blog Critics and published on 10/21/09 http://blogcritics.org/culture/article/whose-tango-is-it/

Medio Vaga

TangoSpam — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 22:54:36 -0300

I feel like I waste a lot of time since I started living here. I spend too much time on Facebook, emails, and hanging out with friends, when I should be working or looking for work. Before I moved to Buenos Aires I was a classic type A personality. I worked all the time. I made every minute count. I was always looking to be more efficient. Now I don't care.

My Argentine friends think that I am "muy trabajadora." A hard worker. I rent the rooms in my apartment, I teach English, I translate, and I write. I took two contract jobs in IT, which was the career I had before I moved here. It made me realize why I moved here. They were too stressful and I had less free time. I was always working.

When I started my search for an apartment to buy I devised a spreadsheet and a system to look at as many apartments as possible. Real estate agents here are worthless. They don't really do much to help you. I was on a mission. I had a spreadsheet of all the places I visited. I could sort it in a any number of ways.

Every weekend I would get the paper and reference all the apartments that had open houses on a copy of a street map. I would arrange things so I could see 10 - 15 apartments in a day. I had a separate sheet for comments. Everything would be transferred to the spreadsheet. My Argentine friends were in awe. "You act like this is work!" they would say to me.

When I started to look for things to buy I did the same thing. I made lists. I used to be a great one for lists. I would go from store to store comparing prices. Then I discovered that prices are basically the same everywhere in Buenos Aires. In the US fair competition is the ability to sell things at competitive prices. Here that does not exist. Stores sell things at more or less the same price regardless if it is Wal-Mart or a mom and pop.

Since I moved here in 2004 I have stopped making lists and I no longer wear a watch. When I lived in the US I had a clock in every room. Even the bathroom. Now, somehow, I get where I need to go without the time obsession. I remember what I need to do or buy without lists or spreadsheets. I still have an agenda but only to keep the appointments I make, not to plan my life months in advance, like before.

I gave up much materially to move to Buenos Aires. My friends still talk about the "things" that I had. I know that while I gave up many things, I gained a lot more by moving here. I never saw myself as a laid back person, but compared to how I was, I certainly am now. I have lost the need to plan every minute of my life. I take things as they come. If they don't get done today, no big deal. I can always do it tomorrow. Or next week.

This post was originally written for Affordable Calling Cards