La Música Tango:  A Time Warp

Me encanta. Last Wednesday night, my roommates and I trekked the whole half block from our house to a small, intimate little bar called El Boliche de Roberto. Mikael and Aliya were heading to Brazil the following day for a couple of weeks, so we thought it exceedingly necessary to celebrate their brief departure. After a few bottles of wine, some cheese, some excitement from the fútbol game on tv and the usual debatable topics of conversation spewing from Mikael, a woman came to a stage which was no higher than 10 inches off the ground and no wider than can fit 2 people. The second she took to the stage, the entire bar fell silent and all eyes were concentrated in her direction. Our table was directly in front of her as I sat inches away from the music that would capture me for the rest of the night. When she finally opened her mouth to sing, I felt transported to a time and place, unfamiliar.  Her raspy voice: oddly beautiful. The music: a fine balance of intensity and comedy. I only understood about less than half of what she was singing but the passion behind her subject was evident in her voice, her face, her body language and even the guitarist was moved by his own guitar playing. I was obsessed. She sang about five songs and then while she walked around collecting tips in a basket, which I was glad to hand over, her younger male apprentice came up to sing and as I suspected, I had not been disappointed. Now, on to DANCING Tango!