The Tango-L mailing list archive
Digest from 25 Sep 1999
to 27 Sep 1999
Reply-To: Discussion of Any Aspect of the Argentine Tango <TANGO-L @MITVMA.MIT.EDU>
To: Recipients of TANGO-L digests <TANGO-L @MITVMA.MIT.EDU>
Date: Mon, 27 Sep 1999 03:00:00 -0400
Sender: Discussion of Any Aspect of the Argentine Tango <TANGO-L @MITVMA.MIT.EDU>
From: Automatic digest processor <LISTSERV @MITVMA.MIT.EDU>
Subject: TANGO-L Digest - 25 Sep 1999 to 27 Sep 1999 (#1999-17)
There are 9 messages totalling 620 lines in this issue.
Topics of the day:
1. LAST CHANCE to win a Tango CD and download 20 Tangos in MP3 for FREE
2. Tango Shows (not Shoes)
3. Argentine Flirting (long)
4. ARGENTINE TANGO -JAPANESE STAMP
5. Change of direction
6. Daniel Barenboim and the Story of Tango
7. JAPANESE TANGO STAMP
8. News From BAires
9. Any Tango in Berlin October 8 - 11?
Send "Where can I Tango in <city>?" requests to Tango-A rather than to
Tango-L, since you can indicate the region. To subscribe to Tango-A,
send "subscribe Tango-A Firstname Lastname" to LISTSERV @MITVMA.MIT.EDU.
Date: Fri, 24 Sep 1999 11:45:50 -0300
From: "Ing. Leonardo G. Vazquez" <vazquez @APTO.COM.AR>
Subject: LAST CHANCE to win a Tango CD and download 20 Tangos in MP3 for FREE
Tango Lovers --> LAST CHANCE TO PARTICIPATE
The survey in Internet that I put in orther to collect data that I need to
sustain my thesis is finnising. Remember that I put a Web page with 20
Greats Hits of Tango in MP3 format to download to all that fill the survey.
Moreover I will make a raffle of a CD of Tango Hits. You only need to enter
in the survey page, fill the survey form (that only have 5 questions) and
then you will obtain an user and password to download the Tango MP3s and a
number for the raffle.
I WILL MAKE THE RAFFLE THE OCTOBER 1st , 1999, THEN YOU NEED TO COMPLETE THE
SURVEY RIGTH NOW IF YOU LIKE TO PARTICIPATE IN THE RAFFLE. (the raffle will
make in Buenos Aires, with the presence of a notary and publitated in the
Web). ITS FREE, IF YOU LIKE TANGO YOU NEED PARTICIPATE !!!
Please fill my survey at:
Main page:
http://www.apto.com.ar/tango/index.htm
Only in english:
http://www.apto.com.ar/tango/english/index.htm
Only in Spanish:
http://www.apto.com.ar/tango/espanol/index.htm
I expect that you enjoy the Tangos.
Thank you in advance.
And good look in a raffle !!!
Sincerely
Leonardo G. Vazquez
vazquez @cadema.com.ar
vazquez @apto.com.ar
NOTE: The information colected is NOT going to be used with commercial
purposes, this data will be used only for my thesis.
Date: Sat, 25 Sep 1999 19:54:16 -0700
From: Jean Walsh <tangochic @HOTBOT.COM>
Subject: Tango Shows (not Shoes)
A few things about Tango Shows.
"TANGO X 2" (www.tangox2.com) has posted its schedule for next year's tour in Europe. Too bad they are not coming to the States.
Does anyone know what happened to the "Tangoing"? Is it true that Daniela & Armando were fired from the show? If so, why?
Any reviews on that big show in Miami?
Muchas gracias,
Jean.
HotBot - Search smarter.
http://www.hotbot.com
Date: Thu, 23 Sep 1999 13:10:38 -0500
From: Tom Ronquillo <chitiger @MAIL.DAVE-WORLD.NET>
Subject: Argentine Flirting (long)
A woman friend of mine who grew up in Buenos Aires sent me the following
article about piropos. Some of us on the list are old enough to remember
when flirtation was a skill that was as important as how well one
danced. Today, my younger latina feminista acquaintances will engage me
in vociferous debate about the wrongfulness of such sexist behavior. In
response, I will say to them that I am still evolving. Then I will tell
them how beautiful they look when they are angry at me.
Tom (El Tigre) Ronquillo
salon.com > Travel May 7, 1999
URL: http://www.salon.com/travel/wlust/1999/05/07/argentina
The Argentine art of flirting A young American learns to stop resisting
and love the piropo.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
By Kaitlin Quistgaard
Amid the pale purple jacaranda of Plaza San Martmn, I fell into one of
those impossibly long stares that strangers engage in here. I had been
in Buenos Aires a week and my inner Argentine, developed during a
previous four-year love-hate battle with the place -- a battle that had
ended with my return to the States two years before -- was on an
unprecedented high. Pheromones were no doubt wafting up from the crowd
of park-bench lovers and the full-bodied Italianate Spanish was infusing
my thoughts as the night jasmine perfumed the city streets.
So I playfully clung to his silvery gray eyes. We didn't trade smiles or
winks, but my chest tingled with a soundless giggle. It was good to be
back on the teasingly sensual Argentine streets. But that night, as the
wooden plates were being cleared from a gluttonous asado in which we'd
sampled every cut of beef that could be barbecued, my friend Peter
challenged the longevity of such public sensuality. I didn't hear what
prompted the thought, but his words rang out across the raucous dinner
party: "They don't say as many piropos these days."
A piropo is the most simpatico of flirtations -- a kind of street poetry
that a man whispers just when he's close enough to look a woman in the
eye. Traditionalists might memorize a rhyme popularized decades ago,
like "Adiss florecita de arroz, maqana voy a casarme con vos." (Goodbye
little rice flower, tomorrow I will marry you.) But even a mundane "!Qui
piernas!" (What legs!), when delivered by a bewitching flatterer, is
pure excitement -- a moment of unexpected intimacy with a stranger --
and then, before your cheeks have fully flushed, he's gone.
I had come to think of the piropo as the Latin-lover cousin of the white
trash catcall. In the American version, a construction worker, towering
above the world on a scaffold, whistles at a bouncy giglet on the
sidewalk below, drawing upon her the cruelest attention. But the piropo
is subtle -- with refined machismo, it replaces public humiliation with
a private fantasy of romance. At most, a person walking beside you might
hear, but often no one, not even the mystery man, looks to see your
response. The compliment arrives quietly, like an anonymous gift.
I was horrified to think the tradition might be dying. Of course, this
stunning revelation was delivered by an eccentric foreigner -- a
curry-addicted Catholic who had foolishly traded Bombay for Buenos Aires
a quarter-century ago, only to be generally known as el hindz, since
Spanish makes no allowances for monotheistic Indians. As a non-native,
non-female, Peter would have seemed an odd expert on Argentine machismo
-- but even after an afternoon of sidewalk flirtation, I trusted him to
know. With a fine frosting of gray hair, a well-rounded belly and deep
brown eyes that barely shielded his heart from full view, Peter was
always surrounded by women, playing confidant and romantic advisor to
many -- including, I must admit, me. He had been my best friend in the
final days of my expat extravaganza, the one who suffered through every
grating argument about the narrow-mindedness that could flourish in
these narrow streets -- and in my ex-lover. He also had an inquisitive
mind and when we'd gone on assignment together -- he as photographer, me
as journalist -- he would end up asking all the questions. Now I
presumed he'd been interviewing piropeadores.
Viviana leaned into the table, pushing herself into the conversation
with a coquettish wink, and said, "I don't hear as many piropos these
days, but it's hard to know whether that's because they say them less or
they just don't say them to me." There was an eruption of little-girl
giggles around the table as the women -- every one a vibrant young babe
sculpted into a form-fitting dress -- inwardly tallied their recent
piropos and laughed. Cecilia, with her ebony tresses and voluptuous
curves, took the apparent deficit of piropos with the same good humor
with which she received the verbal ogling itself. Gisela, too, shrugged
off the dearth of piropos and set her fairy-blue eyes teasingly upon
Felipe. He and the other men at the table tickled their wine glasses and
crumbled their bread, but said nothing.
I wasn't so quick to kiss the piropo goodbye. How many times had I been
hurtling down Avenida Santa Fi, plagued by some inane job-related worry,
only to have it washed away by a furtive smile and a flattering line?
"With eyes as bright as yours, who needs the sun?" There were times when
a morning greeting of "!Diosa!" (Goddess!) was enough to bring on a
secret, blushing smile that lasted all day.
It wasn't that I was so hard up for attention. Like many an expat, I had
bound myself to Argentina with a passionately woven romance. I think,
actually, I had gathered piropos like tokens of acceptance from my new
country. Their delivery was predicated on the belief that I understood
both the language and the culture of the piropo, which is so foreign to
my American roots that if there existed some kind of world consciousness
that could identify me as a yanqui, I never would have been treated to a
single one. But these mysterious piropeadores behaved toward me as if I
was Argentine, and it was as if by comprehending them, I became one.
A bittersweet nostalgia for that seqorita I had struggled to become
rippled through me as I polished off a final espresso and began the
requisite round of cheek-kissing goodbyes. Peter directed the taxi to
Viviana's place, where I was staying while working on a travel video.
Then, sitting up front while Viviana and I commandeered the back seat,
he asked the driver if it was true that they said fewer piropos these
days. The taxista, who was in his 50s and surely putting in 14-hour days
to make a living, agreed. "There's no time," he said flatly. "Everyone's
in a hurry. There's no siesta anymore, no time to dream up silly
verses."
By then we had left the curving cobblestone streets and crumbling, belle
ipoque barrio of San Telmo and were barreling down Avenida 9 de Julio,
heralded as the widest in the world since the government bulldozed a
collective of neoclassical mansions to roll out eight lanes in each
direction. During the day it was a motionless sea of traffic, and even
now, at 2 a.m. on a weeknight, it was busy -- quick schools of red tail
lights darting past the opulent opera house and into the current of
another rushing boulevard.
Memories of my Argentine life cascaded down these avenues, and I
recalled discomforting moments during my education in the ways of this
sensual culture: It had been unnerving to learn that the piropo was not
always an anonymous affair. Countless times, I had arrived at the office
of some government minister or well-known executive whose secretary had
put me off for weeks, and the big muckety-muck would size me up while
shaking my hand and purr, "If I had known you were so beautiful, I would
have agreed to the interview ages ago."
At first, I would just freeze and return their winking words with an icy
handshake. But gradually, as the filter through which I had been trained
to view the world dissolved, I found humor in these fawning men in
suits. Sure, they were sexist and a bit grotesque, but they hadn't been
schooled to not say what they were really thinking. And their admission
of attraction -- if you could even call it that -- seemed harmless. I
suppose any feminist would have howled at my apathy, but by then I would
have howled right back if I could have found the party responsible for
draining the sweaty-palmed humanity, with its unchecked crushes and
flirtatious freedoms, from my homeland. Over time, I came to revel in
Argentina's unbridled acceptance of everyday sexuality, and with my
feminist education and Seven Sisters diploma in tow, learned to offer a
smile and genuine thanks to these piropador-acquaintances, before
turning to the interview at hand.
I awoke the next morning in the tiny twin bed in Viviana's apartment,
troubled by the dwindling piropos and wondering what such a change would
portend for Argentina's relationship to sexuality. If the taxi driver
was right and over-busy lives were to blame, I wondered if the country
would ever recover. The government was hellbent on arriving in the
devoutly worshipped First World; competition, longer workdays and the
American entertainment monoculture had long begun their beguiling
encroachments on simpler ways of life. I could hardly bear to think that
my sexual paradise -- not that of an easy lay, but one in which casual
attraction had a voice -- could be Americanizing. The last thing the
world needs is another prudish freak show of a country, I thought,
hanging my towel beside the bidet and pulling on a sleek black dress.
I slipped into a taxi and headed to La Boca. The portside brothels and
bars that had witnessed the birth of Argentina's sultry tango had long
given way to an impoverished barrio turned tour-bus standard. Decades
ago the cheap rent had attracted artists, who converted the little
houses on stilts into an outrageous palette of kaleidoscoping reds,
greens and purples. Now a booming business in sidewalk watercolors and
other "local crafts" attracted European and American tourists. I hadn't
ventured here for six years, since the very first week of my Argentine
sojourn, and wouldn't have been back if the blatant color schemes
weren't perfect for TV.
But it turned out to be a godsend, for here I met Oscar, a vaguely
creepy street artist and tango dancer. Handsome and aging, he absolutely
dripped with Argentinity beneath a pale fedora and worn blazer. My
question about what time the art stalls opened prompted the first piropo
of my trip: For a woman as beautiful as I, he said, the stalls would
open at any hour. With a hint of a smile, I asked if it was true that
they say less piropos these days. "Sadly, it is," he replied. Asking my
permission, Oscar led me to a nearby park bench, arranged his silk
aviator's cravat, lit up a cigarette and told me the history of piropos.
"In the old days," he said, looking straight into my eyes with
familiarity, "men came alone to try their luck in the New World. They
left their wives and families behind. Soon there were far more men than
women in Argentina. How do you get the attention of the only woman
around?" His eyes followed a passing teenage girl, whose deep tan traced
its way from her painted toes right up to the hem of her 4-inch skirt.
"By saying the most beautiful words. It's the same as dancing the tango
-- maybe you're ugly, but if you are a beautiful dancer, you have a
chance."
His chatter drifted toward the salacious dance and he began, as any tour
book would, to tell me how it had been prohibited in Argentina until
news of its European popularity reached these shores and gave it cachet
with the locals. He made a valiant effort to impress me with his travels
to the United States to lecture on the tango, while running his eyes
over my legs. I steered him back to the piropo.
"Men used to dress well, act properly and try to impress the girls.
Today everything is much more aggressive," Oscar said. The famed
melancholy of the tanguero spread across the elegant lines of his face.
"The city runs at such speed. And women ask men out. You don't need a
polished turn of phrase to get a girl to sleep with you."
There was something uncomfortably forward about his manner as he said
so, and for a moment I wondered if he had interpreted my pert response
to his piropo as some kind of invitation. The woman my mother raised me
to be wouldn't have dreamed of sharing a park bench with a flirtatious
art-hawker. She would have run at the slightest sexual innuendo. But in
Argentina, I could only chuckle, finding no hint of impropriety in his
banter. I relaxed back into my seat."Before, I would work a piropo in my
head until it was something wonderful.
Then, if I impressed her enough with the verse, maybe she'd agree to
have a coffee with me. If she found me interesting, maybe she'd give me
her number. And maybe we'd go out again. It was all very slow." He shook
his head, enraptured by the memory of a difficult, old-fashioned
conquest. For a second I wondered if this story -- told by a man who had
mentioned that he'd been married more than 30 years and spoke proudly of
his grown daughter -- was more fantasy than truth.
In any case, it was time for me to get back to work. I thanked Oscar and
began to extricate myself from his reminiscences with a goodbye
handshake. He insisted on giving me his card, then pulled my hand
closer. "Remember," he said, reprimanding my cold exit strategy,
"everything here is a kiss." His lips brushed my cheek and he took his
leave with a broad smile.
That evening, sitting on the floor with a glass of Malbec, I recounted
the tale to Viviana. What was really going on with the piropo? After
all, Oscar, that peddler of art and history and flirtation, had agreed
with my friend Peter's theory that its popularity was diminishing. And
like the taxista, he blamed its demise on speed and modernity. But our
whole damn encounter had been a piropo. Oscar's scheme had worked on me:
He'd said something charming that had enticed me to pass half the
morning with him. At that Viviana nodded and broke into a rollicking
laugh.
I called Peter. I was eager to tell him the story of Oscar and discover
the genesis for his theory of the dying piropo. Filming on my travel
video was starting the next day and I was moving to a downtown hotel to
join the crew, so Peter and I arranged to meet in the lobby after I
checked in.
I gave Viviana a goodbye kiss and headed downstairs to find a taxi. The
sidewalk was busy with children coming home from soccer and ballet, and
friends parting ways following an after-work drink. An unoccupied taxi
was just coming into view as the silhouette of a man came up the street.
I saw only dark hair, a brown coat. But then his eyes pierced mine and
with the practiced flourish of a piropeador, he gestured at my luggage
and asked, "Oh sweetness, must you leave so soon?"
I was besieged by silent giggles and a faint blush as he disappeared
into the hazy pink evening.
salon.com | May 7, 1999
Date: Thu, 23 Sep 1999 23:08:41 -0500
From: Joe Grohens <joe @WOLFRAM.COM>
Subject: Re: ARGENTINE TANGO -JAPANESE STAMP
Sergio wrote:
> Japan issued a Mail Stamp with a couple dancing Argentine Tango - Both
> partners dressed for the ocasion,even hats; the lady doing a BOLEO. On one
> side it says, " 100 Years Of Friendship Between Argentina and Japan"; both
> in Spanish and in Japanese.
> A beautiful stamp!
This stamp can be seen at
http://www1e.mesh.ne.jp/osaka-post/mail%2010t-argentina.htm
This special stamp was first issued in last October in 98.
I am not sure if it is still available in a postal office, but I have
asked a colleague to try to find it. I agree, it is a very beautiful stamp.
Joe
Date: Thu, 23 Sep 1999 13:28:06 EDT
From: Jonny Lapongo <s6s6s6 @HOTMAIL.COM>
Subject: Change of direction
Does any one knows what this change of direction means.
I got the term from the TangoUSA letter about Fabian Salas.
Alberto
______________________________________________________
Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com
Date: Fri, 24 Sep 1999 09:13:45 EDT
From: "J. Ingojo" <Ingojo @AOL.COM>
Subject: Daniel Barenboim and the Story of Tango
On OVATIONTV (a cable channel) I caught the tail end of
a tango musicvideo.
It seems that there is a tango documentary and the blurb
says:
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D
Daniel Barenboim and the Story of Tango
Sunday, October 31, 1999 - 11:00:00 PM
Tangos Among Friends: Daniel Barenboim in Buenos Aires =96
This documentary follows conductor and pianist Daniel Barenboim=92s return t=
o=20
his homeland of Argentina to explore the South American culture and roots=20
that lie behind his success. His most recent CD release, Tangos Among Friend=
s=20
is=20
Barenbom=92s largest selling ever.=20
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D
Does anyone know about this or seen it?
Jose Ingojo
Date: Fri, 24 Sep 1999 09:21:15 +0200
From: Robert Barta <rho @TELECOMA.NET>
Subject: Re: JAPANESE TANGO STAMP
> Http://wwwle.mesh.ne.jp/osaka-post/mail%2010t-argentina.htm
Correction:
http://www1e.mesh.ne.jp/osaka-post/mail%2010t-argentina.htm
\rho
Date: Sun, 26 Sep 1999 13:11:40 -0300
From: Lady <lady @FIBERTEL.COM.AR>
Subject: News From BAires
Hola A migos;
Como es mi costumbre desde hace mucho tiempo ya... y para hacer conocer
las publicaciones sobre los distintos moviminetos del tango aparecidos
en los periodicos de Buenos Aires, transcribos los links, que en esta
ocasion pude obtener, no son muvhos... tampoco tampoco...son muchas las
publicaciones sobre tango aparecidas, y tambien es verdad que el tiempo
no es lo que abunda:))
Disfrutenlos, , usenlos quien los necesita, como siempre Bien Venidos a
LA MECA del TANGO!!!
=
COMO SERA LA OPERA DE BORGES Y PIAZZOLLA )(
http://www.clarin.com.ar/diario/99-07-04/c-00601d.htm
El tango, con pasaporte internacional
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/11/S04.HTM
El teatro tiene nombre de mujer
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/14/S08.HTM
Con "Barrio reo", Horacio Molina
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/17/S05.HTM
Tributo a Piazzolla, con perfume frances
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/17/S21.HTM
Enrique Cuttini, SE ENSE=D1A BANDONEON, DANZA, PIANO Y CANTO
http://www.clarin.com/diario/hoy/c-02101d.htm
Beba Pugliese - En vivo en Almagro
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/18/S13.HTM
Sobre el puente de Avi=F1=F3n
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/24/S10.HTM
Tango-danza y Poulenc.
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/24/S25.HTM
Avi=F1=F3n, sobre un puente teatral
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/26/S02.HTM
El lunfardo del 2000
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/28/S01.HTM
El barrio de fin de siglo, en una letra
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/28/S03.HTM
Del tango al rock, un largo camino
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/28/S02.HTM
"Demoliendo tangos", Espejo de una generaci=F3n
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/28/S04.HTM
El klezmer, musica argentina
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/29/S13.HTM
Avi=F1=F3n se despide al ritmo del 2 por 4
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/31/S09.HTM
Apostillas de "La France".
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/31/S10.HTM
Breves
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/07/31/S16.HTM
Tango con acento franc=E9s
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/06/S12.HTM
Tangos sin estridencias de la Rinaldi
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/06/S03.HTM
De Berl=EDn y Avi=F1=F3n al Obelisco
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/07/S05.HTM
El director acapar=F3 la atenci=F3n de Avi=F1=F3n
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/07/S03.HTM
=93Juancito de la ribera=94 los porte=F1os del pasado
http://www.pagina12.com.ar/1999/99-08/99-08-07/pag26.htm
LOS NUEVOS ESTILOS DE BAILE
http://www.clarin.com/diario/99-08-08/c-00801d.htm
Opinan los milongueros
http://www.clarin.com/diario/99-08-08/c-00802d.htm
Rinaldi, en la cumbre
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/11/S03.HTM
A 100 a=F1os del bautismo de la Fragata Sarmiento
http://www.clarin.com.ar/diario/99-08-11/c-00301d.htm
Horacio Salg=E1n, el incansable
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/17/S13.HTM
Horacio Salg=E1n Ovaciones en Suiza
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/17/S14.HT
Borges y Piazzolla. "El tango",
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/08/22/S12.HTM
HOY HACE CINCO A=D1OS MORIA EL POLACO GOYENECHE
http://www.pagina12.com.ar/1999/99-08/99-08-27/pag25.htm
ENTREVISTA CON RUBEN JUAREZ
http://www.clarin.com./diario/99-08-30/c-00401d.htm
Con alma de bohemio
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/02/S15.HTM
Serrat-Ruben Juarez
http://www.frecuenciaweb.com.ar/htm/news/report_idx.html
Serrat-El tango y sus influencias
http://www.frecuenciaweb.com.ar/htm/news/report_idx.html
El arranque y Lidia Borda!
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/03/S14.HTM
Nuevas voces para Pizarnik
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/05/S08.HTM
El Pachano tanguero
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/16/S21.HTM
Mederos, con el tango sin fronteras
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/18/S10.HTM
EL TANGO, SEGUN RODOLFO MEDEROS
http://www.pagina12.com.ar/1999/99-09/99-09-18/pag27.htm
Stekelman: un perfil cincelado por la danza
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/25/S07.HTM
Milone, entre la TV y el tango
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/25/home.asp?pag=3Ds10.htm&a=3Dprem
El Nuevo Quinteto Real
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/99/09/26/S04.HTM
Hay de todo y para todos, quienes se interesen, por el movimineto
tanguero!
Un abrazo Milonguero
L @dy
////
( O O )
oOO--(_)--OOo--------
Lic. Liliana E. Tijman
Kinesiologa
http://situar.com.ar/lady_tango
La pagina de la Sra Tita Merello
http://situar.com.ar/tita
Also LU7AUI __ ICQ:37615582
Date: Sun, 26 Sep 1999 17:39:23 -0400
From: Reuven <Reuven @THEBEST1.COM>
Subject: Any Tango in Berlin October 8 - 11?
Hello Tangueros! My wife an I are planning to spend the above weekend in
Berlin and hoping to dance (of course...). I looked at
http://www.snafu.de/~rasch/TangoInB.html but it is in German and
didn't
indicate any special events. Would anyone have any information?
We are from New York, and also need some inexpensive place to stay in
Berlin. Any help would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you, Reuven Freuman
End of TANGO-L Digest - 25 Sep 1999 to 27 Sep 1999 (#1999-17)
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