As the taxi got off the freeway and drove through Boedo, I had that strange excited feeling that I get when I’m in Italy.  Buenos Aires had Italy energy today.

It was very nice and a relief to unpack my things, arrange my tango shoes on my shelves, and just chill.   It felt good to come back home.

After chatting with Miss Tango today, I decided to take a walk, opting to walk on Yrigoyen so I could pass the Congreso Nacional.  In just two weeks, the vibe of the city has changed - fall is in the air.  I didn’t need a jacket, it was still relatively warm, but there was that slight change… no more summer clothes, a few brown falling leaves here and there, and that “autumn” smell.

As I listened to people talking to each other in Castellano as they passed by me, I relaxed and became more content.  In just three months, this city has become so familiar to me, and having two weeks up north without that beautiful porteño accented Spanish surrounding me was like being a fish out of water.

Everything felt different on my walk.  I felt as though Buenos Aires was truly welcoming me back.

I am so happy and grateful to be in my Buenos Aires. 

Back in the loving arms of my Buenos Aires…

…is like being away from a lover.  I just miss it sooooo much.

Will be back in BsAs in 5 days…

I’m missing my Buenos Aires already.  I know I’ve only been there a short time but I feel like it’s my home now.  It has been blissful so far to see the people I love in Seattle, and at the same time this trip has served to make me realize just how a part of BsAs I feel now. It has me doing some interior juggling about what to do with my plans in the near future.  Ah, I’ll just chill out for now…

It’s looking better now. Thank goodness!

Here in Buenos Aires, you enter the milonga and wait for the host or hostess, who seats you in what will be your spot for the duration of the night. That seat becomes your home base, your property, your spot. I’ve had hosts mix up seat assignments at milongas once or twice, which is usually easily resolved, but I’ve never had another woman deliberately take my seat until last night.

At last night’s milonga I had been seated in my favorite little spot, and I was sure to mark my seat by putting my jacket on it, as well as my purse while I danced. When I came back after a tanda, I saw a woman sitting in my seat, talking to her friend.

“Excuse me,” I said, thinking that perhaps there had been some confusion, “This is my seat.” She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders and kept talking to her friend.

A woman nearby saw this and said to me, “tap her on the shoulder and tell her again.”

Not knowing what else to do, I tapped her on the shoulder and when she turned around I said, “This is my seat. I was given this seat and it has all of my things on it.”

She said, “Well I’m going to sit here now because I want to talk to my friend. I already told the organizer.” (She did not, by the way).

I wasn’t sure how to respond. I sure was feeling not only confused, but a little pissed off. I wasn’t sure whether to argue or to be nice. Being “nice” here can sometimes lead to one’s demise in the sometimes wicked world of Tango. On the other hand, I didn’t want trouble, and I hate being anything other than nice.

The woman who had witnessed this, stepped in on my behalf and told her, “Che, when you see a jacket and a purse on a chair, it means it belongs to someone else. Common sense. You can’t take that seat. You want a seat, go ask the organizer.”

They argued a bit and the girl in my seat finally got up and stormed off. I took my seat back as fast as I could. The girl’s friend, who was seated in front of me, turned around and said, “Excuse me, but my friend is special. She knows the people here and she wants to sit with her friends.” I bit my tongue to avoid telling her what “special” means where I come from. I just said, “Well, this is my seat. It has my things. I shall sit in it.”

The organizer of the milonga came over and we explained the situation to him. Since I had gotten my seat back, there wasn’t much for him to do, except find the girl and give her the seat next to me, which had been free. And so, she sat there.

Yes, that’s right there had been an empty seat next to me the whole time. But you can’t just take empty seats either. For all you know it could be reserved, so I wasn’t going to move to it and I wasn’t going to offer it. The host decides where you sit, not you, and certainly not some bratty young milonguera.

Perhaps the whole idea of owning one’s seat might not sound very normal to some, but here it’s the way it is. And you have to make sure you keep your seat because if there is confusion and someone takes it or is accidentally seated there by the hostess, and it’s a crowded night, you are left with no place to sit. No fun for a girl in Comme il Faut heels.

From this I have learned that I can’t be so “nice” all the time at milongas. You kind of have to fight for yourself here.

I was proud of myself, by the way, for having carried all of this out in Castellano.

The view from my balcony last week

~

The view from my balcony today at 1pm

The past couple of days I’ve been counseling someone who is at the airport in Houston, on whether to fly down or not. She has already postponed her flight to Sunday night (she was supposed to fly Thursday night, I believe), and is trying to decide what to do.

Last night it was completely clear and I saw no smoke at all. This morning, the smoke was back, and as of an hour ago it got worse.

It seems to go away at night and come back in the mornings.

My advice for anyone who is here visiting, is to partake in indoor activities during the day and drink lots of water, as it’s very, very dry here right now. Eye drops might be handy to have around. I’ve read that it’s pointless to buy a dust mask, because while it may make breathing a little more pleasurable, it does very little to protect you from the particles in the smoky air. But I say, do what you need to do to feel good.

At night, as I’ve said, it doesn’t seem too bad, and I’ve been able to go out to dinner and dancing the past few nights with no problems whatsoever.

Hopefully the wind changes direction soon, or better yet, it rains!

(Somebody had to use the most cliche idea for a blog post title, and that somebody was me)

Here’s a set of pictures from BCC of what’s going on in Buenos Aires…

I wanted to take some pictures of my own, but out my window I can see perfectly clearly. Ether I’m used to the smoke and have forgotten that it’s there, or there just isn’t that much in my neighborhood. Either way, this can’t be healthy. And my hair smells like I’ve been in front of a camp fire. Quite sexy for the milongas, no?