Photos courtesy of IdiomArt

“I still can’t believe you agreed to tango lessons,” I called out to my husband from the bathroom, barely able to contain my excitement as I got ready for our first date in what felt like forever.

I’m sure I couldn’t have concealed my nerves either, since I’ve always viewed myself as a spectacularly inept dancer. “Well, we needed to do something, according to Dr. Daniel,” Michael said as we checked comms with our son on our way out the door.  Nico was just happy to have an evening to play video games and eat delivery pizza without us.

Our son’s doctor recently emphasized the importance of doing more activities together… without him. He just turned 13 and needs to develop more autonomy.  He’s our only child so letting go has been hard for me, which is why I needed a professional to point it out.

Michael spends most of his free time on his bike trainer and I’m a social butterfly so often I just go out without him.  We joke that he’s my “Snuffleupagus” (the creature in Sesame Street that only Big Bird could see so no one believed he really existed).  We struggle to find time to do things together and I sometimes feel like I have limited access to him – that he’s always so busy. When the newsletter came from IdiomArt announcing tango lessons, I didn’t think he’d be game for it.  I was wrong. 

On our way to the first lesson, the late afternoon sun in Cuenca cast a golden glow over the town. Amid the bustle of post-almuerzo activity and the picturesque cobblestones and buildings of El Centro, walking a mile to class was dreamy. 

When we reached idiomART, the studio was alive with music and laughter.  We were greeted by the effervescent Sarah HB, idiomART Director. Luis and Greisi, our elegant Venezuelan tango instructors, welcomed us warmly. The room was filled with couples which was reassuring because I promised Michael he wouldn’t have to dance with anyone else.  All the men looked so nervous. I guess I wasn’t the only one who lacked dancing confidence.  There were a few single women as well and everyone was chatting animatedly.  

Rediscovering Romance One Tango Step at a Time

“Bienvenidos a todos!” Luis called out. “Esta noche comenzamos con los pasos básicos. ¡Encuentran a sus parejas!”

Michael gave me a confident smile as I tried to suppress the nagging thought that I would trip over my own feet.  I always get turned around in step exercise classes.  Michael’s mom teaches Zumba and we join her when we visit.  Not because I want to demonstrate my glaring inability to follow her moves, but because I like my mother-in-law and it makes her happy. But it’s also how I’m reminded annually that I suck at it.

Starting with simple steps, to my surprise Michael was not half bad. We took dance classes 20+ years ago before our wedding so we wouldn’t embarrass ourselves in front of friends and family.   I couldn’t manage the salsa but we did a passable waltz and were spared shame on our big day. People even said we were pretty good when we busted out with our favorite move, “the triple twinkle”.

As the lesson progressed, Luis and Greisi borrowed Michael to demonstrate leading for the single women – something I told him he wouldn’t have to do.  Oops.  However, I watched with pride and amusement as my usually introverted husband tangoed with ease, earning praise and applause from the other students.

“Look at him,” one of the women said, winking at me. “He’s really good!”

I, on the other hand, felt like my brain was working overtime to make my feet do the right steps. But as I danced with Michael, something unexpected happened. He was a better leader than I had anticipated, guiding me with confidence and patience. I relaxed and actually started to enjoy dancing. I wasn’t as hopeless as I thought.

We were both smiling as we walked home through the now dark streets of Cuenca.

“I can’t believe how much I enjoyed that,” Michael said as we strolled hand in hand.

Tango became the thing that we looked forward to every week. We laughed at our mistakes, celebrated our victories, and enjoyed the community of fellow tangueros.

Our teachers, Luis and Greisi, deserve all the credit though.  Despite their limited English in a class of mostly gringos, they demonstrated the moves multiple times and were very patient with us, making every lesson a pleasure.  We even practiced at home, much to Nico’s horror.

“Come on, buddy, join us!” I joked, resulting in the kind of dramatic eye rolls only a teenager can muster.

One night on our walk home Michael said, “You know, I think Dr. Daniel was onto something. This is really fun.”I agreed and took his hand.

The power of tango, or any social dance, lies in its ability to create an intimate and wordless connection between two people, weaving their movements into a harmonious flow that transcends verbal communication. 

And the power of community, something that idiomART has created and maintained with each new event, class, workshop, is not to be underestimated. 

I love watching Michael interact with others in a social setting, something I don’t see him do at home.  It reminds me why I married him.  He can be quite charming when he tries.

We don’t aim to be great dancers, only to enjoy each other and the moments we share, which, as busy parents, seems to be harder to find these days. In that music and laughter-filled studio and on our peaceful walks through this magical little city, we found a new shared interest and a little extra joy.