The sun seems to set too soon over Buenos Aires as Summer comes to a close and I make my way toward the Northern Hemisphere in anticipation of Spring. I have said goodbye to my best friend and watched him turn the corner onto Defensa as the San Telmo Street Fair noisily winds down for another week. I may never see him again.
It’s hard to notice how exhausting Buenos Aires is when you’re caught up in the middle of it. But between flannel sheets in the dark and almost cloying silence of the suburbs of Calgary I notice the drain. I feel weary, but in other ways – full. There are surprisingly few tears (so far) and I believe that I’ve made the right decision – to come home. I feel anxious but it is not the anxiety of loss, regret, fear and despair as has accompanied me so often on this journey but the excitement over the opportunity to nurture and share the many seeds I have sown, germinated and grown in the belly of Argentina.
My first practica upon return is disappointing – as I knew it would be. I look forward to May when I will attend a Tango Festival in Vancouver (vantangofest.com) and meanwhile plan to infuse new energy into my own small community. I hope there is enough here for me in return. It crosses my mind that I may be better off to go off Tango (cold turkey) and re
turn to Ballroom – or take up skydiving instead – rather than suffer further disappointment. Nothing can compete with Buenos Aires.
My new Comme Il Faut shoes are small consolation for the tango tragedy of leaving one love behind for another – Buenos Aires for Calgary – but like I’ve often said – if the dance isn’t going well at least I have these great shoes hugging my feet while I weep . . .
