Tuesday 17 January 2017

Status quo



That's the Belgians said a Dutch friend, when I recounted the tale of the practica in Antwerp.  They don't like the status quo upset. Everything is just so and you are supposed to go along with it.  You didn't so of course that would be a problem for them.

I didn't think the Dutch wouldn't care.   Dutch friends I  stayed with separately said  "Just do as you feel".  Perhaps when they could sense I was feeling torn between doing what, independently I might have chosen and trying to guess what was good for my host; but I think it is also just in their natures.  I cannot say how grateful I was for that freedom.  It meant something like:  I will too.  Then we can both relax.

I asked my parents about their memories of the Belgians they had met.  In the sixties mum had had a sweet, caring and gentlemanly boyfriend from Antwerp.  That aside they recalled an elderly Dutch friend of theirs describing the Belgians she had known as mean-spirited and grasping.  I wondered idly if Antwerp being the centre of the world diamond trade was coincidence.  Diamonds seem so often to be linked to money and sorrow.  Then - surprised - they remembered the only other two of their Belgian acquaintances (not a couple) - both fitted the Dutchwoman's description:  an eye for the main chance, said mum.   Prepared to put money before all else said dad.  It was like that in Tenko too, said mum.  I was reminded of the shameful story of Belgium and the Congo in Adam Hochschild's excellent book:  King Leopold's Ghost.  Things were stacking up against the Belgians.  

The only other guy I could remember said he came from Brussels.  I met him at Tango Train in Amsterdam in December 2016.  He could dance of a fashion but I had chatted to him briefly at a milonga and we didn't hit it off.  The next day I watched him play his own piano tunes during the El Cielo afternoon milonga for his own gratification against the Di Sarli that was playing for everyone else at the time.  Eventually, one of the hosts, Age Akkermanstopped him.  The next night, the Brussels guy was sitting and chatting with that night's Tango Train DJ:  Toufik Cherifi "El Chupito", listed as also from Brussels.  Incidentally that is a DJ I would not go to hear again.  It can be helpful to see who people associate with.

When I told my parents about the Antwerp practica incident they cringed. Dad thought I had been wholly unreasonable, offensive even.  They both sided with the guy.  They thought it perfectly normal for a man to think a woman at a dance will dance as a woman.  Fair enough, I said, except when she has explicitly said otherwise. 
-What were you wearing? said mum
- A skirt! I said.   It was a new place and I hoped there'd be some guys I wanted to dance with. I do wear skirts and heels when I think there's a chance of that. I dance in the other role and wear slacks when I know there are aren't enough guy dancers I want to dance with who also want to dance with me. 
- Mmm. she said unconvinced.

But my parents don't dance tango.  In the fifties and sixties if a man in Britain asked a woman to dance, I hear over and over from people around at the time, that she tended to accept.  I explained that the milongas are different.  You don't presume things about dancing with people.  So when a guy ignores the conventions of the milonga and doesn't invite by look and the girl explicitly refuses him, for the guy to insist  - as happened at El Sur - beggars belief.   I felt on a sticky wicket because I was claiming convention to  my case while also swapping roles which is not conventional - though it is becoming common in Europe. Still, just because you alter one convention doesn't mean that you should get rid of others.

- They probably think you're gay said mum.  
- So what? I said.
She giggled, knowing I was needled.  Dad harrumphed.

- It isn't appropriate anyway, he said.
- What isn't?
- You going to these milongas in Europe in your situation.
- What 'situation'?
- Married with two children.
We left that there.

In the summer of 2014 I took my children camping in the south of England.  The three of us met a lovely family with two little girls similar in age to my boys then.  They all played together.




  

I forget where the father was from but the mother was Argentinian.  Her grandmother had been born in the early twentieth century around the start of the Golden Era of tango music  (1935-1955).  She had not been allowed to have anything to do with tango.  The phenomenon emerged among immigrants, single men and in insalubrious parts of the city.  She wasn't allowed to go to the milongas nor to have nor play any tango records.  She wasn't even allowed to play tango on the piano.  Everything to do with tango music or dance was inappropriate for that family.  The girl got married and still had nothing to do with tango.  Decades later after her husband had died and she was an old lady she started to play tango on the piano.  Apparently it gave her great pleasure.

The tale reminded me of a Dutch grandmother, a widow, whom we met when our respective families were on holiday in Spain some thirty years ago.  As it was later told to me she had been married to a controlling husband.  In her eighties, after her husband had died and she was allowed to pursue her own interests she took up travel and painting.  She visited us in England.  I can remember her painting outside our house.  The feeling about her was peaceful, clear and focused.  Here is one of her paintings and another above:




I have much more freedom than both of these women had in their lives, but it is also 2017.

I heard a sad friend sing today.  She had a good voice.  I suggested she join a choir.  She didn't feel she could because she already goes out one night a week and she thought her husband wouldn't like it.

When I think about people controlling the lives of others or saying what is appropriate for others to do, or people just feeling controlled and that they can't do things because of what they feel their partners and families might say or do it reminds me of those two elderly women in Argentina and the Netherlands and the freedom they achieved but only when independent in old age.

I  respect those brave souls who encourage, without pressure, their partners and family in choice, freedom, exploration and growth, even when it is unconventional and especially when such unconventionality is unfamiliar with them.  I admire those who seek and hear the possibly contrary opinions of others about hard things.  The more we are connected to the people with whom we engage the more these things imply risk but such openness seems to be healthy.

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