On the eve of Argentina's bicentennial we went to Feria de Matadero, thinking that there would be lots of concerts and lots of interesting stalls run by merchants from all over Argentina, or at least the nearby areas. The bus trip was about an hour (though still costing just an equivalent of 30 cents). But half way through the bus trip I got a text message from a friend who was already there and told me that it was a "bust" and that not much was happening. We were already half way so we decided to just keep riding the bus that crossed the entire city from the northeastern side to the southwestern edge. People looked more humble, poorer, buildings less well-kept, and hardly any dogs leashed to some young person on an easy stroll.
When we got to the fair, we did indeed see that most stalls were empty. The ones that were open were selling really cheap stuff, in quality as well as price. But we made the best out of it. I saw all these little ponies, whose size was hardly more than the biggest dogs I've seen in the US. Kids loved riding on them and having their pictures taken for a fee. I also saw a very dirty llama, who at first looked as if it had no legs as it sat in the middle of an intersection. There was also a farmer on a horse-drawn carriage full of puppies, and one black puppy was sitting on the horse. The man was a character to look at, such a gaucho, wearing a gaucho hat, face wrinkled and darkened by the sun, and full of expressions. Nearby was a stall with the Argentinian and Uruguayan flags, selling these deep-fried sweet to which a huge line of people were waiting. I didn't try, not for the line and not for any fried food.
What else was there? All those cheesy looking mate gourds. Some were made of the hoofs of some animal. So weird, and disgusting for our vegetarian friends. But other than that not much was happening. And we got hungry so we went looking for a place to eat, and at that point we saw this "Peña", a place for folkloric place. So we went inside, paid $2.50 each and sat inside a very rustic place. I felt like I was in some country fair inside. We were sitting at long, old, wooden tables with attached benches. The tablecloth was some plastic with cheesy designs. We were no longer in posh Palermo or Recoleta, not even San Telmo. And soon music came on, with chacarera first. Lots of people started dancing, and then we realized in the next two hours that Argentina had dozens of other dances, and chacarera was just the most popular with people not from the countryside (such as Porteños and tourists).
I danced two separate sets of chacarera (it was hard to tell if a chacarera was coming up or an escondido). But then I got dragged into an impromptu zamba dance by a woman who showed me what the man's role was. That was fun. Sometimes the body just wants to move to the music, whatever kind it might be! And I even did a chacarera doble towards the end.
I have to say that I was so surprised by the variety of folkloric dances. Almost every set was a different dance! And though they all have similar body movements, the patterns of the dances and the style of the dancers in each type of dance were different. I was quite impressed that a country of only 200 years old could come up with so many possibilities.
At some point they started playing live music, with two singers, a guitarist, a drummer, and even a bandoneon player! Really beautiful!
After that we went looking for food, since there wasn't much food in the peña. No luck on this eve of the Argentinian 200th birthday. So we just went home on that same, long bus ride. On the way back I got into a discussion with one of the tangueras about why tango dancers seem so weird, at least from North America. That lasted most of the bus ride plus dinner. I won't talk about it here, but for those who do dance tango, it's an interesting question to pose about why there seems to much more emotional drama in the tango world than in the real world.
The day had been fun, even if tiring. We went to bed the previous night (morning?) really late since La Viruta had a very late night since the next day was a holiday. Thinking there was so much to do in Matadero we forced ourselves to wake up earlier than our bodies wanted. But then the day didn't end with the post-Matadero tango discussion. With great reluctance, we dragged our bodies to El Yeite, which took place in a new venue. That venue really sucked. The floor was made of uneven, unpolished stones! Impossible to pivot on. After many attempts, including use of scotch tape on the soles, we gave up and went to Canning, where it was really packed, most packed I've experienced in Buenos Aires. And supposedly it is like this during other times of the year. I wonder how people enjoy dancing when there is so little space!
That milonga also ended at 6 AM! Such is the life of a tango dancer!
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