Everyone knows that Tango is the most famous dance of Argentina. As a proud Argentine man myself, I was always a bit embarrassed that I didn’t possess the dancing skills of so many of my fellow countrymen. So this year, I decided to tackle the dancing challenge and enrol in some proper Tango lessons. I still have a lot to learn, but here is a video showing the result of my journey into Tango so far…
Writers and poets have continued to be inspired by Buenos Aires’ melancholic and persevering atmosphere. The city is poetic – its history, folklore and romance are evident in every neighborhood, and the stories these elements have produced make it a destination for literary lovers and contemporary writers alike…
Argentines will tell you the best stuff is when mamma makes it, but making dulce de leche from scratch is a bit like waiting for a solar eclipse. You wait and wait (stirring condensed milk on a low heat for two to three hours), and finally see its magnificence for a brief moment, but it soon disappears with the blink of an eye. It’s best to keep a small stockpile in your cupboard…
They say that tango is the very expression of the Argentine soul. Certainly its roots are entwined with those of modern-day Argentina as the country emerged into a nation of immigrants in the late 19th century. It was a time of tremendous change especially in the port of Buenos Aires (B.A) which was swamped with Europeans seeking a new life in the New World. Soon the influx of Italians alone outnumbered the resident porteños – citizens of B.A, who were mainly descended from Spanish colonists and African slaves…
The first time I tasted Fernet I hated it. I was young (and for legal reasons I will not say how old, just in case the alcohol police are reading) and just starting to go out with friends to “los Boliches” (discos) and bars around Mendoza, Argentina. That black bitter drink, strong as hell and sweetened with Coca Cola, was not my ideal dancing partner. Diluted lager beer served in a simple plastic tumbler was more agreeable with my inexperienced liver and empty pockets, until…
The sky turns white with torn newspaper. The clattering of drums heightens. Machines blast out blue and yellow smoke. “Ole, ole, ole, ole” 40,000 of the world’s nosiest fans scream. They bounce – the shaking stadium is felt more than two miles away. Many have their shirts off in the heat and are swinging them around their heads. The horn section can be heard through the melee. And the fans continue singing: “Soy de Boca/cada dia te quiero mas”, I’m Boca/everyday I love you more. Boca Juniors have just appeared from the tunnel…