A long day at work, a longer drive from Marin back to San Francisco, I'm not feeling energetic about doing a tango class as I finally find a parking spot. I slowly get out of my car and feel the chill in the air. But across the street I hear a slow, alluring tango floating out of the studio, down the sidewalk, around the faces sitting next to each other at the tables in front of a French cafe, the notes linger there enjoying the conversation, finally they turn red and yellow and flow inside Coleur restaurant where they mix with blue salsa notes swimming upstream.
I'm inside the studio now & I feel the warmth of the people. I look around & realize this class is so San Francisco...such a wonderful mix of people it feels like the UN, but with better dancers. A tall African-American woman glides through backward ochos while her face beams. To her right is a short, semingly shy Asian-American woman wearing glasses who has just rotated to a tall Caucasian man. He is so happy to see her he picks her up in a big bear hug & her feet are now dangling three feet off the ground, which breaks through her shell & she can no longer contain the big grin that spreads across her delicate face. To her right is an Italian man talking to himself as he repeats the leader's steps over & over again. His face is intense with focus at first, but then slowly relaxes as he gets better at the move with each run through.
I'm feeling rejuvinated now. This class is about to end and I'm ready for mine to start. Christy Cote is teaching the class how to cabeceo in her usual endearing way. The class takes partners as they begin their last dance, full of joy to tango, but sad it's their last of the night. Their class ends, mine begins. I'm energized now by the music and friends. I walk to one of my favorite partners and we take each other into a close embrace for our warmup tango. I'm very happy to be here...
