Reflections on My New Tango Home

Since moving to this city, I’ve been dancing at this particular milonga for about two years. The dance floor is a rectangular space, approximately 45 feet long and 30 feet wide. Typically, 40 to 50 people come here to dance, most of them seasoned tango dancers in their 50s, 60s, and 70s, with a handful of younger or less-experienced participants. The gender ratio is approximately 27 men to 23 women, putting the men at a slight disadvantage. Interestingly, a couple of women prefer to lead, and most men tend to avoid dancing with these female leaders, which exacerbates the shortage of followers.

Most women here are familiar with cabeceo, though a few are not, and these women receive fewer invitations as a result (see Women’s Role in Cabeceo). Apart from a handful of exceptions, most people dance in a traditional close embrace, and dancers with different styles rarely partner up. Overall, this milonga has an above-average dance level, which I really appreciate. However, the sense of community could be warmer. In America, this isn’t unusual—people come here to dance, not necessarily to form deep connections. By contrast, in Buenos Aires, a group of people who dance together regularly will quickly form strong bonds.

I regularly dance with most of the women here, though there are a few I haven’t danced with—not because I don’t want to, but because they haven’t shown any interest. My rule is simple: I only dance with women who are friendly and open to dancing with me. If someone acts dismissive, I don’t ask them to dance. I’m not entirely sure why some women seem aloof. Do they have very high standards? Do they only dance with fixed partners? Do they think that invitations are only a man’s job? I prefer not to assume the worst because I believe most people are genuinely kind. One possible explanation is that they are socially inexperienced or lack cabeceo skills. Regardless, I have my principles, and since I’m not lacking partners, I haven’t danced with them yet (see Tango Etiquette: Eye Contact, Talking, Clique and Hierarchy).

There’s a sizable tango community in this city, and this milonga, with its seasoned dancers, often attracts visitors. However, these visitors rarely return, perhaps due to the lack of a warm and welcoming atmosphere I mentioned earlier. I’ve also visited a few other milongas in this city, but the dancers there tend to avoid engaging with newcomers, so I didn’t stay either. It’s a common issue, and I believe there is room for improvement. Some possible solutions might include encouraging people to greet each other before the dance begins, providing cabeceo education, prompting everyone to dance at least once with someone new, or requiring dancers to rotate partners during the first tanda after the break. These small changes could help break the ice and foster a more inviting environment (see Tango Is a Fellowship).

To me, a good milonga requires three essentials: an amicable atmosphere, experienced dancers, and good music. There are several DJs here who mostly play classic tango hits from the Golden Age. While a few have unique tastes that don’t always align with mine, most DJs strike a good balance in their selections. Overall, I’m satisfied with the music here, though I think the selection quality could still improve to make this milonga even better. It’s not about novelty—it’s about choosing tracks that are great for dancing. The more classic and familiar the music, the better—this is akin to playing musical instruments, where well-loved pieces often resonate best with both players and listeners. I don’t understand why Pugliese is rarely played here. Considering most dancers here are experienced, adding more Pugliese might be a thoughtful touch (see My Two Cents on Music Selection).