My poor, poor feet HATE me today. If I was staying here longer I would have to learn the bus systems because walking everywhere has caught up to me.
I had a wonderful private lesson today with Pablo and ---we'll call her Maria because I forget her name. I wasn't sure what I wanted to get out of it but Pablo road tested me and they had some really great drills (for lack of a better term). Body positioning, long steps, reading the lead in the chest - really good stuff. I don't think they were quite ready for me though - sarcasm and giggling when I mess up. When asked why I'm so uncomfortable in close embrace I told them I was worried about bad breathe. "Yours or his?" she asked. "Both!" She translated, Pablo checked his breathe and apologized. Quite funny.
The other crazy thing is that Pablo did not speak English and Maria did. We would stop and they would start talking. It seemed like he was yelling and they were arguing and then she would, quite calmly, translate something into one sentence. I thought he was pissed at my crappy dancing. Then, since I have learned some key words, I actually listened and I don't think he was angry - emphatic, yes -- angry, no. But then again what spanish do I really know?
I then walked up to the main park area to look at the artists that come on the weekends. I watched an amazing couple tango dance in the park. Any frame you would have snapped of them would have been perfect positioning and posture. And they were both young and gorgeous. I am thankful I caught some video. Following this was lounging in different areas of the park listening to different live music - and shopping for art. The artists are actually there. The woman I bought some pieces from today gave me a hug and kiss on the cheek and told me to take them home and enjoy them as a reminder of the memories I make while in Argentina. When does that ever happen in US? Never.
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