Someone told me once that the dance is made of feelings. I think what happens in the dance is some kind of indescribable, nuanced thing that is to do with the couple and the music. But at the same time I often feel that the tanda is self contained - a clear beginning and an end - to everything. Nothing needs to be said because things are said, wordlessly and understood in the dance.
The tanda ends and despite that we may have been deep inside the music and the embrace, moving as one, it is easy to walk away. Metaphorically, I mean, even if sometimes I feel a bit rocked from, well, I’m not sure what from, the whole thing. At the end of a tanda with a great guy dancer my occasional silent disorientation must be evident because guys usually seem to understand and unsurprisingly are pleased. At least I take it that’s why I see them grinning as they take me back to my seat. Besides, they seem to know it’s not just good manners, but that I need the escort ‘til I come to.
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