After El Cielo in the Dokzaal Pieter wanted a change of scene for dinner before his train but everywhere we looked for food seemed closed. It took us ages to find a place we both liked that was open. We found Cafe Koosje on a corner of Plantage Middenlaan that was something between a restaurant, bar and pub. I was ravenous and we had as kind of shared starter, but apparently inappropriately, bitterballen. Pieter said it was more what you have as an early evening snack and I suppose it was heading towards 8pm.
We seemed to spend a long time in this place where the atmosphere either was or was not gezellig. Later I found out it was knus. Doesn’t gezellig mean 'cosy'? I said, ever curious about words for feelings for which there is no English translation. Like 'hygge' or 'gemütlich'? It appears not. Gezellig seems to have a bit more pizzazz to it. The way Pieter explained it in straightforward Dutch manner, the Dutch are loud so gezellig plus loud is the Dutch version of 'cosy'. When on another day I asked Dutch-speaking Sebastian for his take on the term he illustrated it by saying the atmosphere on particularly that Wednesday afternoon in El Cielo had been gezellig.
We seemed to spend a long time in this place where the atmosphere either was or was not gezellig. Later I found out it was knus. Doesn’t gezellig mean 'cosy'? I said, ever curious about words for feelings for which there is no English translation. Like 'hygge' or 'gemütlich'? It appears not. Gezellig seems to have a bit more pizzazz to it. The way Pieter explained it in straightforward Dutch manner, the Dutch are loud so gezellig plus loud is the Dutch version of 'cosy'. When on another day I asked Dutch-speaking Sebastian for his take on the term he illustrated it by saying the atmosphere on particularly that Wednesday afternoon in El Cielo had been gezellig.
As in Cambridge, I had overdone things. Dancing swapped in the embrace with a beginner guy in a very busy ronda of a milonga one does not know with dancers in front and behind whom one does not know is in my experience just about the hardest thing a girl can do and as it nearly always does it had taken it out of me. Then there had been the sightseeing and the lateish dinner. I couldn’t face going out again and as in Cambridge skipped, not without reluctance, the evening milonga run by Corine's team from La Bruja.
I had been before during TangoMagia and knew the Duif, a former church in central Amsterdam, to be, aesthetically, a lovely venue though I was not sure now what I would think of it as far as good conditions for a milonga. I mean for instance the size of the room. I remember lighting being good but the room being large with rows of seating one behind the other and it being not necessarily easy to see across the room for cabeceo. Three years though is a long time and I could not now say any of this with certainty. My main memory of that evening in 2013 is meeting Franc who I found out later organises the Oranjerie salons in Arnhem. We danced two tandas. He struck me as modest, a nice guy and a marvellous dancer - one of the best dancers I had encountered at that time.
Duif is pronounced more like dowf only the vowel sound is softer and more nuanced than that; you need to hear it from a Dutch speaker. The DJ was going to be Jacob El Jirafa whom I had enjoyed hearing at La Bruja the first time. I expected the milonga in the Duif to be very popular and thought it would be mobbed which the next day I heard had been true.
I had seen Jacob's soubriquet written as El jirafa and La jirafa. Which is it if it's a guy? I asked Enrique by email. He said: the correct way of writing it is "La jirafa". A male giraffe would be "la jirafa macho". Although "El jirafa" for a DJ even if not grammatically correct doesn't sound wrong and is quite catchy.
I knew Enrique because some mutual friends had put us in touch when I had been looking for Spanish conversation before going to Buenos Aires. He wanted to learn to dance so he could dance socially with his wife. He had been to some milongas abroad to watch but had not enjoyed classes. He liked the idea of learning more naturally. What this meant in practice was that he came over one weekday evening, met the boys and we chatted over a cuppa in my kitchen as I cleared up the boys' tea because if we had not got on it it would have been a no-go. I doubt either of us could embrace in dance someone we did not like no matter what the arrangement. But we did get on and went more naturally to the milongas in Edinburgh once or twice to dance in swapped roles. I know how easy it is to slip into and stay in one language but he was very good about chatting away to me in Spanish even while I, able to say more than I did, but lacking confidence, replied in English. By the time I got back form Buenos Aires Enrique had wisely left Scotland to live in sunnier Spain. He was a lovely guy and a natural dancer, really good and with all the right instincts. Since then I have learnt a lot about dancing with beginners, including beginner guys, especially how to slow things down as with new dancers they can tend towards the opposite.
I had been before during TangoMagia and knew the Duif, a former church in central Amsterdam, to be, aesthetically, a lovely venue though I was not sure now what I would think of it as far as good conditions for a milonga. I mean for instance the size of the room. I remember lighting being good but the room being large with rows of seating one behind the other and it being not necessarily easy to see across the room for cabeceo. Three years though is a long time and I could not now say any of this with certainty. My main memory of that evening in 2013 is meeting Franc who I found out later organises the Oranjerie salons in Arnhem. We danced two tandas. He struck me as modest, a nice guy and a marvellous dancer - one of the best dancers I had encountered at that time.
Duif is pronounced more like dowf only the vowel sound is softer and more nuanced than that; you need to hear it from a Dutch speaker. The DJ was going to be Jacob El Jirafa whom I had enjoyed hearing at La Bruja the first time. I expected the milonga in the Duif to be very popular and thought it would be mobbed which the next day I heard had been true.
I had seen Jacob's soubriquet written as El jirafa and La jirafa. Which is it if it's a guy? I asked Enrique by email. He said: the correct way of writing it is "La jirafa". A male giraffe would be "la jirafa macho". Although "El jirafa" for a DJ even if not grammatically correct doesn't sound wrong and is quite catchy.
I knew Enrique because some mutual friends had put us in touch when I had been looking for Spanish conversation before going to Buenos Aires. He wanted to learn to dance so he could dance socially with his wife. He had been to some milongas abroad to watch but had not enjoyed classes. He liked the idea of learning more naturally. What this meant in practice was that he came over one weekday evening, met the boys and we chatted over a cuppa in my kitchen as I cleared up the boys' tea because if we had not got on it it would have been a no-go. I doubt either of us could embrace in dance someone we did not like no matter what the arrangement. But we did get on and went more naturally to the milongas in Edinburgh once or twice to dance in swapped roles. I know how easy it is to slip into and stay in one language but he was very good about chatting away to me in Spanish even while I, able to say more than I did, but lacking confidence, replied in English. By the time I got back form Buenos Aires Enrique had wisely left Scotland to live in sunnier Spain. He was a lovely guy and a natural dancer, really good and with all the right instincts. Since then I have learnt a lot about dancing with beginners, including beginner guys, especially how to slow things down as with new dancers they can tend towards the opposite.
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