Tango Blog

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From National Geographic Traveler, October, 2010   NOW AND THEN, in Buenos Aires, I have the urge to rub against a man I’ve never met. When that occurs, I usually go to La Boca, the barrio that throbs with afterglow of Italian immigrants who poured brilliantly colored paints over their drab tenements in the early 20th century. This afternoon, I find my guy near El Caminito, a pedestrian way where the polychromatic hues are even louder than my pink high heels.READ MORE

From Skirt! Magazine, 2009 – My Personal Peace Movement – In late 2006, I arrived in Buenos Aires with hair under my fingernails and blood in my eye. I was down and out after a long relationship ended. I had done the unspeakable—pulled the other woman’s hair. Along with three suitcases, I had brought my chagrin, broken heart and adequate skills in dancing tango. I intended to stay two months and chill (and give her peace of mind). But after two days of dancing tango in the place of its birth, I canceled my return ticket. I stayed a year and a half. READ MORE