My University

My summer in Argentina is over, but I still have a lot to say. Unfortunately while in Argentina I prioritized tango over spending time in front of computer screens contemplating my blog, so now I will try to lay out a few of the ideas, thoughts, and beliefs that I never presented.

First of all, I need to remind everyone (including myself) the reason that I went to Argentina: to take summer classes. My subconscious desire to dance tango that I encountered shortly after my arrival was lucky to have found the study abroad program that I did where I did: it was one of the few programs that not only included a language course but also two courses on politics, economics, society and history (basically my major, Global Studies, in a nutshell,) all taught in Spanish. The courses were fairly slow paced because we were all foreigners, but I learned an immense amount about Argentina that was complimented by my living within the very society that I was studying (you see why I keep trying leave the country to study?) Also, I passed through with flying colors: I did very well in all of my classes and now have nine credits to show for an entire summer that cost less than the cost of nine credits at Hofstra.

Politics and Economics
The politics and economics of Argentina are horrendously depressing. Ask an Argentine, and while he may be quick to boast Argentine asados (BBQ’s) or soccer, he will be even quicker to use every adjective of insult to describe his politicians and the state of his government. “They are all corrupt, they become politicians to line their own pockets, they buy votes to win, the public good is last on their agenda...” And from all that I learned from conversations with Argentines, from my university courses, and from the news, that seems to be strikingly close to reality. My host and I could sit at the dinner table for hours discussing politics: they all seem to be passionate and eager to express their frustration.
And it is not difficult to understand why. At the turn of the 20th century, Argentina was considered one of the most developed countries in the world, but today it is struggling with much of Latin America and steadily falling further in reverse, even as countries like Chile and Brazil are moving forward. After long lasting dictators, series of military rulers that came into power without elections, and two serious economic crashes in the past three decades, Argentina has seen a rough century. In fact, many Argentines scoff at the economic crisis that the world is facing today: “this is Argentina. We are always in crisis.” The 2001 Argentine crisis was marked by panic, frozen bank funds, forced currency conversions, and inflation as salaries remained unchanged. Argentina went through five presidents in nine days. Middle class workers lost their jobs overnight, and just as fast informal employment soared.

Argentine Universities
Unfortunately the program that I found put us in classes at a private university in Buenos Aires. I say “unfortunately” because Argentina’s public universities are absolutely free to attend (I could have saved some money for more tango classes.) And not just free for Argentines (if you were to correlate it with in-state public university tuition) but to the world: the government is not choosy. They are also very good: for a professor it is a position of prestige to teach in one of Argentina’s public universities, public universities are much more competitive, and the education is thought to be much better than in private schools. Adequate acknowledgement of higher education is at least one thing that Argentina’s government has gotten right. Because of this lucky set of circumstances, students from all over Latin America can be found in Argentine cities studying at public universities. I met many, many young people from Columbia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Panama, and across Latin America living and studying in Argentina because the education is better and less expensive than in their respective countries. With that said, private universities clearly have more money. I spent a day in classes at my Argentine friend's university, marked by graffiti falling down posters, bare bones rooms and bathrooms that made one question sanitation standards. My private university, on the other hand, was clean, pristine, often had trays of food and drinks catered to different classes and meet and greets, and the bathrooms were cleaned, always fully stocked (merely a silly dream to the students where I visited at University of Buenos Aires,) and smelled of fresh cleaning products.

Homage to La Viruta

http://www.lavirutatango.com/english_version/nosotros_la_viruta.html

It is time I give thanks to my second home in Buenos Aires, La Viruta. Yes, yes: I stayed with a family for most of the time and even did some couch surfing, so I certainly was not without a place to stay. But I spent enough time in La Viruta to call it a home and to owe it thanks. “La Viruta” the place is fairly unassuming: it is in the basement of the Armenian Cultural Center, unmarked on the outside as a milonga*, in the barrio Palermo SoHo of Buenos Aires. But once you are inside you would never think that there is a lack of publicity: dance has completely taken over in this huge space—six nights a week, in fact—and people fill the room corner to corner. It offers lessons, dance and shows and is now the most well-known and largest Argentine milonga*. Five days a week there are classes—classes of tango, milonga*, salsa, and swing—and an everyday dance practica** afterwards.

It is extremely open and friendly, and that is mainly why I love it. It is the epitome of a social environment, marked by interaction between friends and soon to be friends. In our modern western world we have iphones and ipods, text messaging and headphones plugged into our ears in public places and thus plugging us out of what is happening around us, and we shun public transportation in favor of our own enclosed vehicles. We as individuals are isolated more and more—and isolate ourselves—from the company of others usually without consciously realizing what we are doing. Walking on my college campus or in big cities (still not necessarily the streets of Port Clinton: I’m happy to say that much of small town Midwest still has a way to go before reaching this stage) half of the people walking by themselves will either have headphones on or a cell phone in hand, and heaven forbid should they make eye-contact with anyone. It is almost as though there is a fear to be in a situation by ourselves where we may have to interact with new people, so we keep ourselves company with electronics and make ourselves seem unapproachable and thus less vulnerable. For adults who choose to take advantage of today’s technology in this way, it is a choice they make often after having lived years without these options. But for youth, it can be debilitating and anymore risks not even being a choice. Two years ago I had a girl in one of my art classes. It was a hands-on three dimensional building art classes, where as you mold clay or cut wire, it was only natural to chat with the other students at your table. I never heard her speak once: she always had her ipod turned on. Whatever: music helps her focus on her work. So for part of our grade, we were required to go into Manhattan and visit art galleries as a class. Through the wait at the train station and the ride into the city she was watching movies on her ipod (while all the rest of our small group stayed in conversation) and again in the galleries she was equally as isolated with her little ipod of technology. I realized: it’s not just that she likes to work to music. She is socially totally underdeveloped because, whereas before it may have been necessary, today technology prevents her from needing to go out of her comfort zone. So if people have the choice between going out of their comfort zones and, well, not, what are they likely to choose? And to just think about it, it is only becoming worse, and quickly. When I was ten (not so long ago) and I wanted to invite a friend over to play, I had to call her home phone, her scary dad would answer and I had to practice talking to adults before getting my friend on the phone to invite her. Today ten year olds can text their friend directly rather than go through that uncomfortable formality with adults, being confronted with the situations less and less for developing those social skills. What a scary thought! Realistically, if I want to, I never need to deal with another clerk at a store, pizza man on the phone, or university professor again: I can do it all online, gracias a technology. More and more youth are developing to be like the girl in my art class from growing up glued to electronics: without social skills and with a huge lack of confidence in situations with new people. She probably did have her own group of friends, but because it was no longer necessary to leave her comfort zone very often, she did not force herself to do so.

This is why I think social dance is so amazing! It is based on interaction: not technology or being entertained by electronics. Cultural dances that the community participates in have been part of communities for thousands of years across cultures…perhaps an indicator of why it is so important to try to keep social dances around today! If you try any sort of social dance you will notice that a) you meet new people and b) people are happy. People love the interaction that it brings! Today (inserted later: September 1, 2009, back at Hofstra University) the Latin American club along with the Latina Sorority hosted an event with free food and live Latin music, from cumbia to bachata and salsa to reggaeton. While all of those members came from different families, different parts of the country with heritage from different parts of Latin America, they all were clearly having a great time, breaking down boundaries just by sharing the music and dances of their childhood. This is what social dances give: a commonality among otherwise often different people.

Of all of the many milongas I frequented in Argentina, La Viruta was by far the best example. All ages attended, and there were no bars between them. You could easily show up alone, and you would not have to worry about feeling isolated or an outsider. Or on the contrary, if you showed up to a class with a partner, it would not be long before everyone switched and you met someone new with whom to dance. La Viruta does not have a demographic: its patrons range from 18 to 80 wearing ragged jeans to debonaire suits, and they all share the same floor. Those age groups and social classes do not stay segregated for long: I shared many a dance with every age in that range.

The classes were divided by ability in different areas, so someone could show up for the very first time and get a lesson on the basics, while a well-weathered dancer could also come and have a meaningful and challenging class. All of the dance teachers were fabulous: probably not because they are the best in the industry but because they were having such a good time. The atmosphere was so relaxed that they let their goofy sides shine through, making the classes more honest. And what better way to meet a new friend in the classes than to laugh with them?

While La Viruta boasts being the largest milonga in Argentina, as the most well-known it still becomes absolutely packed. Often you cannot find seating—even when I showed up at 3:30 in the morning it was often still full. Many times I did not bother finding a seat or table: I stuffed my bag and coat under someone else’s table (I never even worried about anything being stolen) and stood along the side of the floor, never waiting too long to be invited to dance, and in fact often with not even enough of a break to get a drink inbetween. I could do this all night never sitting down, whether I had arrived with friends or by myself.

Another virtue of La Viruta
People may begin frequenting La Viruta to learn tango and walk away knowing salsa, swing and milonga, as well. Entrance is one price: one ticket is $16 Arg. pesos, or $4.50 USD (unless of course you buy them in a pack of four and receive half off!) That one price will get you in any time you choose, so if you come at six pm to take three lessons before the milonga it will cost you $16 for the entire night, or if you arrive after 11 pm only for the milonga it will cost you the same $16. Well, might as well stay for it all, right? It actually encourages patrons to learn more dances for the sake of having more dance and thus more joy in their lives at no added income or benefit to itself (Wow--coming from my society where money is always the bottom line, this is tough to wrap my brain around.) On some days, I would go to one of Buenos Aires’ numerous other milongas, but head over to La Viruta before the end of the night, where it would be free after 1:30 am on week days or 3:30 on weekends. That way if it’s all you can afford you can wait to come late and enjoy some late night tango for absolutely free. That is bare bones tango—one of my friends was a poor college student but would ride his bike over to join us after they stopped charging—so even the poor can dance. On Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays it was open until 6 am. 6 am! And many full-grown, responsible members of society with real jobs (presumably) would stay right up until the end! Remember this is not what you may consider a sin-bath rave lasting until the wee hours of the morning: this is people listening to very classical sounding music, maybe sharing croissants or empanadas with friends and partners, and alternating between relaxing at their tables, chatting, watching and dancing.

While I had a variety of dance friends from classes and milongas (Argentinians, Italians, a German, a Iranian, a couple of Frenchman, etc.) my last several weeks in Buenos Aires I was lucky enough to have found a supportive dance community. By the end of my summer, on Tuesday, salsa night, my friend Alejandro (who I had met in a couch surfing online group through our interest in salsa) and I had formed a group of at least six other couch surfers that would come every Tuesday to take salsa lessons. I also had my three New Mexicans—Meghan, Derek and Greg—who were some of the nicest individuals that I’ve met with a love for dance so visible that watching them dance would make anyone want to try it. Then there was Ricardo, an Ecuadorian who while studying at a public university in Buenos Aires had met and fallen in love with tango…and so many others!

I certainly did not hold my own dancing tango from the beginning (after all, you have to start somewhere,) and this is another part of the reason that I love La Viruta. Other milongas and practicas seem sometimes clique-y and people may only dance with friends or dancers that they already know are “good enough” for them: not the case at La Viruta. There were people of all levels, so it was the only place that from the beginning I did not feel out of place and could always be assured a dance. It was the perfect learning environment when I was still new to tango, and even later on after I had improved greatly, I kept a special place in my heart for those little old men who were willing to practice with my clumsy feet and stiff following when I first began.

*milonga: (1) a place where tango is danced, aka a social, practica
(2) also the name of a dance in Argentina, similar to tango but with faster,
livelier music and quicker footwork

**practica: Where a social dance is danced, aka social or milonga when specifically
referring to tango