Wondering, as usual, if communication between men and women is even possible, mid-June:
Learned something last night at 1924. Watching Fernanda and Cristian, I thought: women don't understand men. Men don't understand women. And how could they--they don't even speak the same language. But she speaks fluent Woman, and he speaks fluent Man, and in that moment of dance, somehow the not-understanding goes away, or it doesn't matter, at least in that moment. And look at them--I saw three things, which is always how I know it's a good tanda...I saw one person, another person, y una pareja.
The world of Eastern massage relies heavily on accepting that we don't understand and realizing that we can profoundly influence life *without* "understanding" exactly what's happening. Reiki, qigong, and stuff like that have been eradicating cancerous tumors, knitting broken bones, and restoring mobility to nonfunctional limbs (amongst many other things) for thousands of years and there *still* isn't anyone who understands the neuroscience of what's happening. Yet somehow, without anyone having degrees in the neuroscience of tomorrow, people are helping people heal.
"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." (--One of my favourite milongueros, William Shakespeare.)
So, back to Fernanda and Cristian--she doesn't "get" him, he doesn't "get" her, and yet there is that beautiful dance that says that clearly *something* important is getting understood, somewhere, on a different and probably more important level. The dance is there; we don't understand it but it happens anyway.