Eventually music, dance, i.e. people's movements, will change the world, as anarchist Emma Goldman avowed to Lenin, "If I can't dance, I won't join your revolution." Saturday in Buenos Aires marked celebrations all over the city for the birthday of legendary tango hero and musical genius Carlos Gardel. My new friend Anna from Barcelona and I walked from San Telmo to La Boca, home of the famous futbol team, to the colorful Calle Museo Caminito, along the Riachuelo. Among buildings painted a tangle of bright neon, tourists mingle among artists and lively locals plying their trades. La Boca is the roots of tango heaven, so enter the dream, do the real thing - or at least take a photo with a sexy fishnet-stockinged leg wrapped tight around you. Tilt the bolero to be forever transformed! On the way random security officials told us "Beware", as La Boca is....somewhat economically challenged...certainly some of upscale barrios Recoleta or Palermo Hollywood's vast wealth could be redistributed here!!! The locals we met were way simpatico - Juan who owns the empanada place gave us cards featuring his career as a ventriloquist, and one of his patrons gifted me a peso in trade for a canadian quarter (exactly the exchange rate).
La Caminito featured ever-present state-of-the-art political grafito and murals of giant mermaids/sirenas plea-ing for help to keep the river clean. We entered a Santeria shop with statues featuring La Virgena and the beautiful healing water goddess Oshun. We got roped into taking a photo against a backdrop of Boca stadium with thousands of fanaticos! (we were hoping to run into Diego Maradona but we heard he's accepted a post coaching the Iranian National team!)
With temps above 30 degrees it became necessary to sip chill drinks (aqua con gas) at a local cafe/bar - just in time to hear a ten-piece tango orchestra playing the music of Carlos Gardel and other tango greats. Two accordeonistas, a big bass, several violins/strings and a sweet-sounding old piano rounded out the gang meriting absolute dedication to their profession. Closing my eyes, I imagined a time when men wearing crisp linen suits floating barebacked ladies in sequins and feathers was the order of the day ( it still kinda is). Follow the flashy shoes and the passionate embrace of tango dancers, ladies and gentlemen, for an exquisite delight. The accordion players wore frankenstein and frida kahlo t-shirts, respectively.
Returning to San Telmo by bus along the river, we spotted a turtle milonga. That night the city exploded with fireworks and big bangs, as if tango was the beginning of creation, and who's to say it isn't?
