La Tanguera Stole My Heart

La Tanguera Stole My Heart
How a minute pose with the Tanguera turned my world up side down…

Blame it on Argentine Tango. If I were to describe a phrase about this dance, it would be “too close for comfort.”

It was a fine afternoon walk in one of Buenos Aires’ oldest districts, San Telmo. It is in this place where 19th and 20th century architecture converged. It was a double date, me and mi amor with Martha and her German boyfriend Guenter. Both just arrived from Patagonia where they spent a week with the penguins.

Soon we were at the center of San Telmo, in a square called Plaza Dorrego. We went to a café with Tango performers. I was dumbfounded watching the performers danced so passionately with perfect rhythm, timing and with temperature rising sensuality. Tango!

And there she was, my Tanguera. Her sexy moves made my heart stop beating. She was dressed in a simple sleeveless tight and black dress. Enchanting. Captivating.

She dances there everyday for tips. She and her group teach tango lessons too.

I consumed my coffee. Her performance, finished. I clapped my hands with all my might. She noticed me and smiled. I smiled back. Then her partner came around with his black hat signalling to throw our generous tips in it.

And then an opportunity came to take pictures with the performers. Without further delay, I stood up and handed my camera to La Karina and posed with my beautiful Tanguera. I can smell her sweet perfume. She’s a Latina. She’s hot. I held her close and posed. It was a wonderful moment. I wanted it to last. Then there was the flash of my camera. “Time is up Greg.” I told my self. Not far from me I heard an angry voice shouting, “Mi amor, I am your girlfriend!” I was dead.

Back in Manila, in my free time, whenever I see my pictures with the Tanguera, I can’t help but think of her for a few moment. I never knew her name. I never asked where she lived, her MSN or her mobile number.

Sometimes, a lot of what ifs enter my thoughts about my lovely Tanguera. But she was just a sweet memory to cherish, a dream, a girl with no name. And so I called her, La Tanguera.

A Brave Yet Foolish Decision(part2)

A Brave Yet A Foolish Decision
Our Road Trip to Misiones


We reached Misiones unchecked. Bravo! We dozed off for an hour and headed to the falls. We had to start that same day to see this giant falls. I realized how limited my movements would be when an Italian Argentine driver we hired asked me if I had my travel documents with me. I said no. He said it’s a pity because we can never get close to the borders of Paraguay and Brazil. A major downer!

The whole stay at Iguazu was worth the 36 hour ride ida y vuelta. I had a lot of memories to cherish in that Natural Park located at the middle of South American continent. I need another blog post for that Iguazu experience.

The trip was over. Such a sad thing to leave a paradise like that. Almost half-way to Buenos Aires, the bus stopped. I woke up. Then our fear became a reality. Three armed gendarmes dressed in military uniform climbed the bus and started demanding, “Sus documentos por favor.” I can see the sun burnt face of mi amor turned white. Panic attack.

Then one of the officers was in front of us and said….¿”Senorita….?” La Karina is always prepared like a girl scout. She handed her Argentine ID and she was ok. Then the officer asked for mine. I said, “Lo siento, no tengo documentos. He olvidado los en Buenos Aires.” I was still explaining in a limited Castellano when La Karina interrupted us explaining that I left my documents in her house. She further said that I am her future husband and that she will take charge of me. She said’ “I am a businesswoman. I am the president of a company and my company will take the responsibility for my boyfriend. I have copies of his documents in my office."

And then she turned to me and translated everything in English what she just had said to the officer. I can see that the officer had a hard time discerning English and I have to cut her off and told her, “Hablame en espanol.” Then, I started asking for a consideration from the officer not to take me to the precinct. I told him that I am a Filipino. I showed him my credit card with a Philippine Flag courtesy of my HSBC PAL Visa. He said, "I need your Argentine visa and not your Visa Credit Card." I would like to laugh, I felt stupid in front of him, and then I said., “ I showed it to you to let you know that I am telling the truth about my nationality." And then I showed him my foreign exchange receipt for the USD I converted at the airport. I showed him my passport number in that receipt and explained that I can not enter Argentina without a visa and that the Forex company was located at the Ezeiza Airport where I converted my USD to ARP upon my arrival. I tried to be calm and smiled after each statement I uttered.

He agreed and said, "Don’t travel without documents. We are near the borders of Brazil and Paraguay and lots of illegals are entering Argentina from here." “Muchas gracias senor.” I told him.

I can’t believe it. Gracias Instituto por ensenarme el idioma. This language saved the day. When the gendarmes got off, the conductor told me, you’re a lucky man. An Italian passenger who speaks only Italian and English, also left his documents in Buenos Aires. He was taken to the station and would be released only after the gendarmes could get a confirmation from the Italian and Argentine Embassies whether his entry to Argentina was legal or not. And he added, shortest day you could stay at the jail is three days. ¡Mi madre!

A Brave Yet Foolish Decision(part1)

A Brave Yet Foolish Decision
Our Road Trip to Misiones, Argentina

I decided to celebrate 2008 Valentine’s Day in Argentina. A week before that, I was in Rio de Janiero for the Carnival. La Karina and I agreed to spend 4 days together in Cataratas Del Iguazu in Misiones. She arranged everything from bus ride to hotel booking. She is good at it, especially when it comes to haggling for discounts. She would always say,” It’s a pity to pay a lot mi amor.”

Before leaving our hotel in Buenos Aires, I told her not to bring things she won’t need. This was my third visit. The first two, I ended up carrying a heavy suitcase stuffed with things, some of which she never used. I am a light traveller. I hate carrying a heavy bag. It makes me immobile.

We checked out and left our luggage at their residence as agreed. We still had an hour to drop-off our bags and proceed to the bus station for our 18 hour ride to Misiones. This task would only require us 30 minutes. I asked for a five-minute extra time before leaving our hotel room to fix my things. Before agreeing, she reminded me to hurry because we might miss the bus. I said ok. She checked the living room, dining room, and bathroom for things we might have left. Each room check equals one reminder. That made three plus one before that so she aready reminded me four. times. I did not reply. When she was about to utter another reminder while watching me locking my suitcase, I have to cut her. I lost it and said, “Will you just shut up?” In my anger, I put all my travel documents inside my suitcase and locked it. That suitcase was not going with us. It would stay at their residence.

I left all my travel documents in Buenos Aires. I only had my credit cards and wallet with me in a travelling bag I was carrying. I only realized it when the bus was about to leave. Damn it! And so there was another Latina exploding in panic. We have to make a decision, postpone it or take the risk of being held by the gendarmes at the military checkpoint or get lucky and never get checked at all. I made a firm decision. We should proceed. “¡Mujer, calmate!”

And we took the bus.

Argentina Te Quiero (part2)
Buenos Aires

It was springtime in 2006 when I first visited Buenos Aires. Coming from a tropical country, an almost zero degree temperature is intolerable. In Manila, I am not accustomed to knowing the exact degree. For me it’s only hot or not. No big deal on what the figure says because generally it’s hot when the sun is up. Besides, the weather is pretty much predictable.

But all that changed in Buenos Aires. I had been globe trotting since 1996 but I would always prefer travelling in summer or fall to a particular destination. Before leaving my hotel, I have to check the temperature first with the concierge in my well re-hearsed line, “¿Cual es la temperatura afuera?” Then dress planning would follow: inner shirts, sweater, jacket, bonnet, scarf, gloves, boots, and knee high socks. I was like wearing a full-battle gear and oh!, T’was heavy.

Unlike my other foreign trips, I don’t need to take a hop-on hop-off tour bus to see the city. Neither would I join a city tour group with an English speaking tour guide for lo and behold beside me was a native who lovingly explained with pride and passion the interesting places and history of her country, in Spanglish. Cute.

And so with her, I discovered Avenida 9 de Julio, claimed to be the widest avenue in the world by the Argentines. The name coincides with Argentina’s July 9 Independence Day Celebration. We took a stroll on the avenida. It was the most logical thing to do to burn the fats I just consumed courtesy of Parilla Mariposa. I never imagined how in the world can I finish a big plate full of greasy, mouth watering and yummy beef. Then I started thinking about my late night work-outs at the Makati Shangri-la Health Club. Guilt stricken.

At the intersection of this avenue and Corrientes, we stopped to take photos at the modern monument called the El Obelisco constructed in 1936 in commemoration of the city’s 400th Foundation Day. With its height of 220 feet, it took us a while to take a good photo with its entirety. It was in this incident when I first learned the level of patience of my Latina girlfriend. She is short of it. She has also a bad temperament. She is sweet for a while and suddenly could explode like a bomb. It left me thinking, how can this woman got easily impatient and suddenly erupt like a volcano when the springtime weather is too good to cool her head off.

At the Obelisk there is a Plaza with a congregation of pigeons. I was busy taking pictures and she was constantly advising me to open my eyes, watch my camera, wallet, etc. At one point I got irritated because I felt like I was being treated like a child. I’d been to more dangerous places in Manila and in Brazil, especially in Sao Paulo. I don’t like her over-protecting me so I have to cut her the next time she uttered the same reminder for the nth time. Then, there goes another argument. Cultural differences?

We passed by Teatro Colón. This beautiful opera house is turning 100 years in 2008. It’s one of the world’s major opera houses. I was told not to miss it because of its horse-shoe shaped auditorium and special interiors. When we checked the schedule of shows, it was then we realized that it had been closed for renovation. A year later, I came back, the renovation job was still unfinished. It reminded me of what she told me that the theater was constructed for twenty years. I was wondering if the renovation would be another “history repeats itself” phenomenon in Argentina.

We reached Avenida de Mayo. This avenue connects Plaza de Mayo with Plaza de los Dos Congresos. We were heading towards the eastern end of Avenida de Mayo where La Casa Rosada (Spanish for "the Pink House"), officially known as the Casa de Gobierno ("Government House") or Palacio Presidencial ("The Presidential Palace"), is located. A pink house! Cool! And when we were in the square en frente de la Casa Rosada, la Karina, my girlfriend guide, started lecturing me as if I was one of her law students in a University in Buenos Aires where she is a faculty member. She commanded, “Look at that half open window, and the house’s balcony, that’s the podium of Evita, the same podium the Papa del Roma used during his visit in 1998. It was exactly the same place where Madonna rendered her “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” anthem. Oh brilliant! With that, I can give her a 9.

We took a stroll on the plaza then went inside the Metropolitan Cathedral of Buenos Aires. La Karina took time to pray, I took pictures. She’s a catholic. I am not. We headed to the Cabildo or their Council during colonial times then took some quick snaps and proceeded to the May Pyramid.

Tired and exhausted, we took time to recharge in one of the benches in the plaza. We chose a strategic place fronting a monument and a fountain. It was a lovely day with a clear blue sky and nimbus clouds, pigeons feeding on grains, lovers kissing, children cavorting at the plaza grounds. Oh Buenos Aires! You are my Paris in South America.

Argentina Te Quiero (part1)

Argentina Te Quiero

Argentina on my mind… Evita Perón, Diego Armando Maradona, los gauchos, Buenos Aires, Patagonia, Misiones, tango, teatros, vino tinto, dulce de leche, bombón, parilla,… Argentina my second country and always will be.


¡Hola Buenos Aires!

I first set foot on this former Spanish colony in South America in 2006. After flying for 38 hours with three stop-overs in the continents of Asia, Africa and South America via Malaysian Airlines, feeling dizzy and sleepy, I knew still that my two-week holiday in this Latin country would be filled with fun and discoveries.

Los Argentinos

Diego Armando Maradona

From aeropuerto de Ezeiza on the way to Sarmiento Suites located at the center of the city, my first attention was caught by a huge billboard of Argentina’s football legend, Diego Armando Maradona. Diego was known for his ‘la mano de dios’ goal, his infamous handball in the quarterfinal match between Argentina and England in Mexico City at the 1986 FIFA World Cup.

This guy did not lose his popularity among los Argentinos after all. They still adore him. A few days later, I asked my bombón girlfriend why Diego is still well loved by his people despite of his drug scandals; she has only this to say, “Most of us separate his personal life from his life as a football player. He is our source of national pride. He is our hero.”

For some, to say that Diego is being adored is an understatement especially with the fanatics. They idolize him. They even founded the Maradonian Church in 1998 for they believed that he is the best football player of all times.

Diego is an example of a “rags-to-riches” story. He was born in 1960 and grew up in Villa Fiorito, in a poor district of Buenos Aires. He made his fortune in football by winning trophies for Boca Juniors, FC Barcelona and SSC Napoli in his entire career. While most of los Argentinos adored him, he had offended the sensibilities of the Catholic Church when he spent USD3,000,000 for his wedding ceremony with Claudia Villafañe when so many Argentinos were suffering from poverty. Though in 2004, this extravagant marriage ended in a divorce. He was also suspended twice; first, for failing a dope test for cocaine in Italy in 1991 and second, for ephedrine test in USA during the 1994 World Cup.

He retired at 37 on his birthday and was considered a legend in Argentina. His team’s victory over England in Mexico brought a lot of national pride and was considered by many as Argentina’s sweet revenge to the British for the Falklands War.

I like football though I haven’t played much in school. We had a big football field in my high school in Bacolod City, the capital city of Negros Occidental in the Visayas region. I played a couple of games in my Physical Education class and that was it. Football in the Philippines is not as popular as Basketball. So in this trip, I once again learned to like this sport and the Argentine team, and ended up buying the famous No. 10 shirt of Maradona.


Eva Duarte Peron

I spent my first day in Buenos Aires with a walk along calle Maipu noted for its old buildings similar to those in major old cities of Europe. Tango bars and restaurants, bombonerias and specialty shops line this street. I noticed posters of Evita on some building walls, hailing her. After her death, Evita is still an icon to recon with, an inspiration for the Peronistas and the las feministas de Argentina.

To those who watched Evita, the 1990s musical movie about her starred-in by pop queen Madonna, they can relate to her being considered as a spiritual leader of her nation.

I should say I’m a fan of Evita and I can sing with emotions the song Don’t Cry For Me Argentina. Never mind my voice, for as the song goes, “it’s not that easy and you’ll think it’s strange …”


El Gaucho

Los Argentinos are synonymous to Gauchos, South America’s version of cowboys. Los Gauchos started the distinctly Argentine custom of drinking yerba mate, its own version of tea. They were early horsemen of the pampas of Argentina. They can also be referred to as the mestizos or the mixed race people. I was amazed to see that they have all sorts of eye colours: blue, green, grey, brown, black. Name it, los Argentinos have it .

The family of my novia is a classic example of an Argentine gaucho. On her mother side runs German and Italian blood while on her father side, Spanish. She has a tall and slim hermana with green eyes and chestnut hair while my girlfriend looks like she is descended from the Andalusíans de Espana.

Carlito, our driver in Argentina, is half-Spanish and half-Italian. I met a tango maestro whose surname is Dubois. He has a French father and an Italian mother. The parents of my novia's brother-in-law are German and Spanish. This explains why most Argentinos look a lot different from the other latinos in Centro and Sud America.

In Iguazú Natural Park in the province of Misiones, I visited a sanctuary of native Argentines with their distinct cultural traditions. They resemble other American Indians, and look totally different from Argentine Gauchos walking in the streets of Buenos Aires.

I was also amazed how los Argentinos have this beautiful and distinct Spanish accent different from the Castellano I’ve learned and speak from my abuela and from Instituto Cervantes. They have this Italian accent and to me it sounds sweet and romantic. Argentina te quiero!

And their women, bombónes? Based on my experience, they are similar to other latinas, son hermosas y calientes pero son locas . Oh mi bombón, me vuelvo loco.

Los Veranos de Mi Infancia

Nunca olvidaré los veranos que pasé cuando era pequeño en la Hacienda de mi gran abuela, quien se llamaba Engracia procedente de Negros Occidental. Cuando recuerdo esas épocas felices, deseo ser un niño otra vez.

Los veranos de mi infancia, comenzaba después de terminar el último día escolar. Con mis hermanos y primos, íbamos por el campo en Ma-ao, donde se localizaba la Hacienda Engracia. Mi gran abuela por parte de mi padre era la dueña de la hacienda. Ella era una mujer con carácter muy fuerte, como también era la matriarca de nuestra familia.

En la huerta, subíamos a los árboles y buscábamos los nidos de las aves mayas dentro de las plantaciones de azúcar. Era una cosa fácil para realizar porque le había enseñado a mi perro, su nombre era Wooba para ayudarnos. Él era una mascota lista y valiente. Después de cazarlos, los comíamos sin cocinarlos. Mi gran abuelo tenía un rifle, que aprendía como usarlo, dado que practicaba mucho, a pesar que él era muy grande para mis manos pequeñas. Con mis amigos, lo usábamos para tirar a las aves y a los pájaros.

El rifle no estaba permitido en la huerta de mi abuela. Pero cuando ella solía estar en el campo con los trabajadores, lo usábamos con mucho gusto, disparando con mucha prisa, con cuidado y prestando atención, porque si la gran abuela nos descubría, el grito de ella, era tan ruidoso como el sonido de la exploción que salía del rifle.

En la hacienda había muchos caballos, carabaos, y cabras. Mis primos montaban los caballos y carabaos pero yo, como era pequeño montaba solamente las cabras que para mi, era aburrido y sentía envidia por mis primos.

Durante la estación de cosecha de la naranja, lanzones y rambutan. La abuela nos ordenaba vender las frutas en un mercado las que habíamos recolectado. Pero ante de llegar al mercadito, nos habíamos comido las frutas más dulces y mejores.

Verano, es una estación del año que mucha gente piensa que es la mejor época para pasar en las piscinas y en las playas, pero por mi parte, yo asocio siempre el verano a los pájaros de la granja, los animales especialmente las cabras, las frutas y los chicos trepando a los árboles.