Milongad Buenos Aireses / Milongas in Buenos Aires vol 1

EST / ENG

LA CACHILA. DERECHO VIEJO.

“Ma lähen Griceli,” ütleb ta mulle pärast tandat kiiresti ja vaikselt. Kuna ma pole ta häälega veel harjunud, tõtt öelda, pole veel meeldegi jõudnud tuletada pea üheksa aastat tagasi kuuldud hääle kõla, tundub kõik kuidagi ootamatu ja ehmatav ning samas nii tuttav. Ühman midagi mhm-sarnast vastuseks. Mis see nüüd siis oli? Konstateering? Kutse? Mõlemad?

Tantsin veel mõned tandad ning otsin seejärel taasleitud tuttavat tantsuplatsilt. Pole. Suur must kott tema tooli alt on kadunud. Läinud. Mida teha? Jätkata tuttaval pärastlõunasel milongal, kus pausideta tants on garanteeritud milonga lõpuni? Või proovida midagi uut ja tundmatut?  Hüpe tundmatusse? Jälle? Taasavastatud tangokallistuse magus mekk õhetab paljal seljal ning otsus on tehtud. Kiirelt koju (sellesse Buenos Airese omasse ikka) riideid vahetama, korraks löön arvutis lahti Hoy Milonga kodulehe, nõndaks, LA CACHILA – ah, kõigest 15–20 minutit jala – uued kingad näppu ja pooljoostes milongale.

Club de tango Gricel. La Rioja 1180. Milonga LA CACHILA. Astun punase tulederea alt sisse, ostan pileti väga sõbraliku proua käest, kes soovib mulle kaunist tantsuõhtut ja imbun kardinaserva vahelt saali. Milonga on juba täies hoos. Mulle astuvad vastu säravad naeratavad mustsõstrasilmad. “Solita?” küsivad nood. “Jah, üksi,” vastan mina. “Mitte kauaks,” teatab lai naeratus ja juhatab mind kohale. Etteruttavalt tuleb tunnistada, et tal oli õigus. Aga sellest mõni teine kord.

Sama tangoklubi teistkordsel külastusel, seekord juba milongal nimega DERECHO VIEJO, selgus, et sõstrasilmad ja särav naeratus kuuluvad mehele nimega Daniel Rezk. Truilt käisin tantsimas Danieli korraldatud milongadel kaks korda nädalas ning koht sai sedavõrd armsaks, et palusin Danielil rääkida natuke endast ning oma milongadest.

Kui enamasti kirjutavad välismaised tangoturistid (peamiselt naised) raamatuid oma tangoseiklustest, mis on kõik kahtlemata väga olulised neile endile, siis mina püüan oma tagasihoidlikul moel tutvustada neid inimesi, tänu kellele tangoseiklused saavad juhtuda ning kohti, mis mulle ühel või teisel põhjusel isiklikult midagi tähendavad. Kui sa oskad ja tahad kuulata, siis avaneb maailm, millest sul tavalise milongakülastajana aimugi pole. Ja mida rohkem sa teada saad, seda rohkem saad aru, et sa ikka mitte midagi veel ei tea ... ja soov sügavuti minna kasvab ja kasvab.

Esitasin Danielile kolm küsimust: kuidas tekkis side tangoga (rumal küsimus argentiinlasele, aga kuidagi ma pidin selle küsimuse ju formuleerima); kuidas said alguse Danieli milongad, ja kuna ühtegi toredat suurt asja ei jaksa keegi ajada üksi, siis palusin tal paar sõna öelda ka oma meeskonna kohta.

Aga nüüd sõna Danielile: “Sündisin koju, kus tango kõlas raadiost pea päevad läbi (kui mina olin väike, televiisoreid Argentinas veel polnud). Minu ema laulis väga hästi ning kodutöid tehes või siis vana Singeri masinaga õmmeldes ja isale kodu ülevalpidamiseks toeks olles, laulis ta vanu tangosid. Kuna tango oli tol ajal kõikide jaoks populaarne muusika, siis oli seda lihtne kuulda igast raadiokanalist. Tangot ei olnud vaja “avastada”, kuna see oli kogu rahva loomulik kaaslane. Minu onud olid väga head tangotansijad ja -lauljad ja oli tavaks, et kodustel pidudel tantsiti ja lauldi tangosid. Minu onud jumaldasid Di Sarlit  ning kui ma olen mõnel milongal ning kuulen Di Sarli tangot nimega Milonguero Viejo (seda aeglasemat versiooni aastast 1952), siis näen ennast taas koos onudega vanavanemate terrassil tangot tantsimas, mis tekitab minus muidugi väga erilise emotsiooni. Midagi sarnast toimub minuga ka siis, kui kuulen tangosid, mida laulis minu ema. Näen teda pesupalis külma veega pesu pesemas ning rõõmsalt tolleaegseid tangosid laulmas (Gloria, Maula jne). Üks minu onudest laulis Horacio Salgáni ja Pedro Láurenzi juures ning moodustas duo Edmundo Riveroga, kes oli minu isa sõber ning käis mu vanematel tihti külas. Minu onu nimi oli Carlos Bermúdez. Võid tema salvestusi YouTube’ist leida. Tihti mängitakse teda ka milongadel (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkgXxifi_lY). Kui jõudsin teismelise ikka, võttis võimust rokkmuusika (nii juhtus kogu maailmas ning kogu rahvusliku muusikaga) ja tangot õppisin tantsima alles 60. eluaastates.

Kuidas sündisid milongad LA CACHILA ja DERECHO VIEJO? Daniel jätkab: “Kui alustasin milongadel käimist, tekkis minus rahutus organiseerida milonga, mis vastaks minu maitsele. See milonga pidi vastama kolmele tingimusele: milonga saal pidi olema suur (Gricel); milonga pidi toimuma neljapäevasel päeval (kuna läksin tööle alati hästi vara, siis nägin inimesi vastu hommikut lõbustustustelt naasvat ning sellest järeldasin, et inimesed alustasid nädalavahetuse nautimist juba neljapäeva öösel); milonga pidi kandma mõne Eduardo Arolase tango nime. Nõnda sündiski LA CACHILA 7.märtsil 2008 (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axM_rnyOtxk). Alguses käis tantsimas vähe rahvast, aga koos oma äripartneri Juan Lencinaga, kes kahjuks suri 3. juulil 2017, jätkasime kohaletulnud inimeste eest hoolitsemist, austasime ruumide reserveerimise lepingut ja hoolitsesime selle eest, et milongale ei satuks inetu käitumisega silmapaistvad tantsijad. Mulle ei meeldi inimesed, keda meil kutsutakse “próceres”(meessoost tantsijad, kes arvavad, et on teistest peajagu üle ja kritiseerivad laua tagant teisi tantsijaid nagu oleksid õpetajad). Kolm aastat oli LA CACHILA Buenos Airese kõige külastatavam milonga, aga alati püüdsin seda kohta arendada, uuendada, vaatamata sellele, et mina ei ole koha omanik: ostsin konditsioneerid, lasin paigaldada suure ekraani ja palkasin inimese, kes tegi programmi, mis näitab ekraanil, missugust tangot just hetkel tantsitakse. Kõik need uuendused on nõudnud minult palju raha ja pingutust, aga mul on ükskõik – ma naudin, mida ma teen. Neli–viis aastat tagasi pakuti mulle samas kohas üle võtta ka esmaspäevaõhtune milonga. Esmaspäev oli halva kuulsusega päev, kuna juba aastaid oli sellel päeval toimunud kehv milonga, lisaks sellele veel fakt, et esmaspäeviti alustatakse töönädalat. Vaatamata kõigele eelnimetatule alustasime ja milonga sai taas nime ühe Eduardo Arolase tango järgi – DERECHO VIEJO (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t33h47KDG_U). Milonga arenes päris kiiresti, aga pidi jagama minu teise milongaga sama publikut ning seetõttu plaanisin “verevahetust”. Septembrikuus, pärast minu äripartneri surma, võtsin kompanjonideks oma tütre Laila ning tema abikaasa Leandro. Muutus milonga kellaaeg, kuna Laila ja Leandro alustasid milonga-eelse tunniga kell 20.00 ning alates 21.15 toimus milonga kuni kella 3.00 öösel. Laila ja Leandro tundidesse hakkasid tulema head tantsijad vanuses kuni 35–40 eluaastat ja ka milonga sai uue energia ja jõu. Mõned tantsijad lõpetasid kellaaja muutuse pärast esmaspäevasel milongal käimise (neljapäeviti jätkavad käimist) ja mõned ei tule kadedusest noorte vastu. Noorte ja vanemate tangotantsijate “integratsioon” pole veel kaugeltki lõppenud, kuid on juba palju noori, kes milongal tantsivad endast vanemate inimestega. Olen kindel, et läheb veel paremaks. Kõik esinemised, mis milongal toimuvad, on lühikesed, mitte kunagi üle kolme tango, ja püüame teha nii, et esinejad oleksid tasemel. Tangotunde annavad Laila ja Leandro ringreiside ajal head õpetajad, kes garanteerivad suurearvulise tundidest ja heal tasemel osavõtu, kuna tunnid toimuvad ainult kesktasemele ja edasijõudnutele.”

Daniel räägib pisut ka meeskonnatööst: “Mis puutub meeskonda, kes mind aitab, siis püüan töötada inimestega, kes väärivad minu usaldust, on targad ning hea huumorimeelega. Ma ei sekku väga nende tegemistesse, kuigi üldise organisatsioonilise korralduse kohta langetan otsuseid mina. Kunagi ei kirjuta tango DJ-le ette, milliseid orkestreid ta peaks promoma, aga kindlasti ütlen talle, kas soovin milongal vahetandaks rokki või ladina muusikat. Alati küsin nende arvamust ning otsustame koos, kuigi viimane sõna jääb mulle ja ka vastutus on minu”.

Mees imelise tangokallistusega tantsib minuga vähemalt milonga kaks viimast tundi. Ajataju on ammu kadunud. Mingil hetkel hakkavad valutama jalad ... Ta saadab mu koju.

Aitäh Daniel. Aitäh LA CACHILA. Ma jään teid igatsema

ENG

LA CACHILA. DERECHO VIEJO.

“I am going to Gricel,” he says to me after the tanda, quickly and quietly. As I am not used to his voice yet, to be honest, I haven’t even had time to recall this pleasant sound first heard almost nine years ago, everything seems a little bit sudden and frightening and familiar at the same time. I mumble something OK-like to him. What was that? Statement? Invitation? Both?

I dance a couple of tandas more and then start looking for my re-found acquaintance on the dancefloor. He is not there! Big black bag under his chair is missing. GONE. What next? Continue at the familiar afternoon milonga where I can dance without a break until the end? Or try something new and unfamiliar? A jump into the unknown? Again? Rediscovered taste of the sweet tango embrace on my naked back is flaming and the decision is made. Back to the hostel to change the clothes, quick shower, a check to the Hoy Milonga homepage, well, LA CACHILA  - perfect, only 15-20 on foot - , grabbing the new pair of shoes and a quick walk to the milonga.

Club de tango Gricel. La Rioja 1180. Milonga LA CACHILA. I step in under the glittering lights and buy the entrance from a very friendly lady who wishes me a lovely dancing night and I smoothly glide into the dance hall from behind the curtains. I am greeted by a pair of bright smiling hazel eyes. “Solita?” those eyes ask me. “Yes, alone,” I answer. “Not for long,” states the smile firmly and takes me to my place. Hurrying on ahead, I have to admit that he was right. But about this some other time.

The second visit to the same place, this time to the milonga called DERECHO VIEJO, it came out that the hazel eyes and  shining smile belong to the man Daniel Rezk. As I went to his milongas twice a week and I liked the place, I asked Daniel to tell me a little bit about his milongas in order to introduce them and him to the Estonian tango community.

Female tango turists mostly write books about their adventures with the local dancers which are undoubtedly very important. For them. I would like to introduce you the people behind the curtains, the people whose work make it possible that the adventures could take place. I would like to introduce you the places that are important to me, for one reason or another. If you want to listen, if you are able to listen, you will enter into the world unknown to the ordinary visiter. And the more you get to know, the more you understand that actually you know nothing. The desire to go deeper is growing ...

I placed three questions to Daniel: his first contact with tango; how his milongas were born; and how the teamwork at the milonga functions as it is obivous that organize something big and spectacular alone is not possible.

And now the word to Daniel: „I was born to the home where tango was the music I heard throughout the day from the radio (when I was a little boy there was no television in Argentina). My mother was a good singer and sang old tangos while doing housework and sewing on an old Singer in order to help my father maintain the household. As tango was pop-music of that time, it was broadcasted in every radio channel. For me it was not about „discovering“ tango as was your question, tango was an everyday companion of all the population. My uncles were good dancers and singers of tango and it was common to sing and dance tango at family parties. My uncles adored Di Sarli. When I am at the milonga and Milonguero Viejo is played (the slow version from the year 1952),  I see them dancing at the terrace of my grandparents. Of course, that scene moves me deeply. The same happens when I  listen to the tangos my mother used to sing. I see her doing the washing in the washbasin in the cold water and singing happily the tangos of that time (Gloria, Maula, etc). One of my uncles was singing with the orchestras of  Horacio Salgan and Pedro Laurenz and formed a duet with Edmundo Rivero. The latter was a friend of my father and thus visited very often the my parents´ house. My uncle´s  name was Carlos Bermudez and you can find some of his recordings in YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkgXxifi_lY). Quite often his tangos are also played at the milongas. When I reached my teenage years, tango was replaced with rock music and I learnt to dance tango only in my 60s.

How LA CACHILA and DERECHO VIEJO were born? Daniel continues: „When I started to go to the milongas I felt the urge to organize a milonga that would respond to my taste. In other words, it should be held in a big dancing hall (Gricel), it should be held on Thursdays (I used to go to work very early and I saw people returning home early on Friday mornings after having fun at night, so I understood that people started to enjoy the weekend already on Thursday); and the milonga should have the name after one of the tangos of Eduardo Arolas. So LA CACHILA (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axM_rnyOtxk) was born on March 7th 2008. At first we did not have crowds coming but with my business partner Juan Lencina (he died on July 7th this year) we insisted on taking car of the people who came, respecting the reservations we had and tried to keep the place free of uneducated dancers. We call them “próceres” here, the male dancers who are above the others and criticize behind their tables. For three years LA CACHILA was the most crowded milonga in Buenos Aires but I always tried to improve the place: I bought the air conditioning, installed the screen, hired the guy who made the programme to follow in real time which tango is playing. All those modifications have cost me lots of energy, time and money but I do not care – I enjoy it. 4-5 years ago I was offered to start with a milonga on Mondays, too. This day had a bad reputation as the milonga on Mondays in Gricel had been a bad one for a long time already, moreover, Monday is the day people start their working week. Despite of everything we started with a new milonga and we named the milonga after another tango of Arolas: DERECHO VIEJO (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t33h47KDG_U). The milonga started out pretty well but had to share the same dancers with the other milonga so I plotted a little renovation of dancers. In September, after the death of my business partner, my daughter Laila and her husband Leandro joined the team. We changed the timing – first the tango lesson from 20:00  and from 21:15 the milonga takes off. Very good dancers at the age up to 40 years started coming to the lessons and it changed the energy of the milonga, too. Of course, some of the regular dancers stopped coming after the changes, some of them because of the changes in the time (but they still visit us on Thursdays) and some because they are jealous of the younger dancers. I knew beforehand that changes always have consequencies but I am content. We have new people, we have changed the place, and the regular dancers who stayed, have mixed well with the younger milongueros. The integration of several generations is not finished yet but there are already lots of young dancers dancing with people who are elder. And I am sure it will get better and better. The shows we are having are short (not more than 3 tangos) and we try to have high level couples performing. When my daughter and her husband are on tours, lessons are given by other good teachers who guarantee high participation as the classes are meant only for intermediate and advance level dancers.

Daniel also tells me a little bit about teamwork: “I respect the team I am working with. I try to work with people who deserve my trust, who are smart and have good sense of humour. I do not intervene into their doings, although the general organisational issues are decided by me. I do not order the DJ to play this or that orchestra but I do say when I want him to play rock or tropical music. I ask for their opinion and we decide together but the final word and responsibility is mine.”

The guy with the magical embrace dances with me the last hours of the milonga without a break. I have lost my sense of time as well as of the place. At some point my feet start to hurt badly. Back to the reality .... He walks me home.

Thank you,  Daniel. Thank you,  LA CACHILA. I am going to miss you.