The Man on the Wall teaches me tango. When I practice backward ochos, hands sliding lightly along his shoulders, he teaches me to make a full pivot. I tend to stop short of 180 degrees without even knowing. It took The Man on the Wall to show me. With every incomplete pivot I move a few inches away from him. After three or four ochos I am at arm’s length and must stop what I’m doing to step back into line.
The rhythm of the ocho is hypnotic. Once I am into it I don’t want to stop.
TeacherTom says ladies are like Energizer Bunnies, once we start ochos you can’t get us to stop. He says this to make the men understand that they had better be ready to put on the brakes. It should be enough to simply stop leading the step, but when ladies are off in their own ocho world, extraordinary measures apply.
When I screw up the ochos, The Man on the Wall leaves it to me to fix it. A dance partner wouldn’t do that. As the distance between us opened, a dance partner would step forward to move with me, or he would tug on my arms to bring me back to him. The Man on the Wall does not compensate, he does not correct. He allows me to experience the consequences of my actions, then waits while I figure things out.
I love him for this.
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