Tango – The Traveling Blues

Given my brother’s ability to quickly pick up foreign languages and the adventurous spirit that once brought my sister to New Zealand and keeps her moving into a new apartment every 6 months, I might have been the Lear voted least likely to travel the world. However, life works in mysterious ways, and I’ve turned into the Lear that’s now spent over a year of her life outside of the USA.

We’ve received more than a few visitors during our trip but there was none as anticipated (for me) as my brother coming to meet us in Buenos Aires for his first international trip (Canada doesn’t count) and my first immediate family member to ever visit me abroad. He was joined by his girlfriend Mandi whose Spanish from her previous travels in Mexico came in handy, especially during their multiple customs stops.

Lucky for us, one of Ryan’s theater friends, Dario, is a Porteño (a “Buenos Airean”) with the most generous family on the planet. If any of you have enjoyed the hospitality of our parents you’ll understand why we referred to Dario’s folks, Martha and Oscar, as the Argentinian Barb and Ken. Their home is your home and somehow they anticipate your every need including those you didn’t even know you had. Continue reading Buenos Aires: The Blear Perspective

“So, did you understand it?”

“Un poco.”

When we first agreed to go see our hostel owner’s performance in Cordoba, we were assured that Spanish comprehension was not integral to understanding the essence of the show. She explained she’d be singing Tango throughout a theater adaptation of a story by a famous Argentine author. After an extremely confusing two hours, we speculated on the walk home about what we had just seen.

Marea suggested that the primary conflict was that a big, black, half-human half-bird was haunting and strangling people in their beds with what appeared to be an oversized sweater.

I suggested the whole show was a discussion about the birth and loss of a baby, as illustrated by the human/bird during his interpretive, birthing sweater dance.

When a Spanish-speaking audience member from our hostel said she was moved to tears by the performance, we decided we should maybe do some independent research before attempting discussion with others.

Continue reading A Quick Stopover in Cordoba