In February I came to Buenos Aires to interview palmists for this column. I stayed at a delightful hostel run by artists and social workers in San Telmo who came together as a collective during the crisis. While there, I partook of the free tango lesson.
Afterward, our teacher took us to a milonga.
There we were, a straggling pack of Americans and Europeans with one lesson under our belts roaming the streets at midnight. We landed on a second floor loft just in time to hear an all women’s tango orchestra, Boca Pintada.