Cabeceo and Other "Rules"

[itwillhappen]

Everyone has to weigh up their own need for freedom and the requirements of a harmonious event. Everyone also has their individual sensitivity and resilience.

I generally do not turn down a first-time invitation of any kind, especially when someone is a stranger to the milonga. The second time I say truthfully whether I want to or not, like with mirada/cabeceo, no excuses. And if I have the impression that someone wants to dance more by asking aggressively, then I tend not to want to.

 

[JournalInTime]

I always introduced myself by name and that broke the ice. Remember, it's mostly the same familiar faces at these milongas. An unknown sitting in the corner is hesitantly cabeceoed.

Introductions by name are important even among mostly familiar faces at local events! I've seen the same followers around for years in some cases, but they've ignored my invitations until we've chatted off the floor and learned a little about one another, beginning with names. The ice broken, we then dance when we cross paths at local events.

An extension of this is the courtesy of introducing your regular life/dance partner to people known to you but not them. For instance, I used to work at a studio where I tended bar and accompanied many dozens of followers without partners, so I met a lot of people – men and women, leaders and followers. Since then, I've gone out to dance more than my partner, whose medical situation means she has less energy than me. So, when we show up to a milonga together, I know far more people than her . . . and when we cross them at the entrance, in the cloakroom, at the bar, or on the edges of the floor, I make an introduction. My partner dances a lot more because of that.

I realize that some people prefer "anonymous tango," where then silently invite, dance, and disappear, and don't converse or make acquaintances. Some enjoy the anonymity of a whole other city or country. They're seeking to dance – not to join a community. Still, if you frequent a local scene for years, intros by name for you and those you are with are a big deal; I'd say essential.

Remembering names is a separate issue. I'm fortunate to have been the coordinator of large university courses for years. My father, a career lecturer and educator, taught me the tricks to remember the names of 400+ people in a group. But here in tango, 90% of the followers I meet are named Anne, France, Geneviève, Lyne, Sophie, Stéphanie, or Sylvie, which makes life tough . . . stand-out names (especially non-québécois ones like Angelina and Salomé) are easier to remember.

 

[TTanguero]

Remembering names is a separate issue.

Try it with mild facial aphasia!

Mild facial aphasia, or why you have to introduce yourself to me multiple times

As some of you will know, I suffer from mild facial aphasia, also known as partial prosopagnosia. Since tango people are often curious about it when I mention it, I thought I’d write a brief …

benlovejoy.blog

 

[Brummbaer]

They're seeking to dance – not to join a community. Still, if you frequent a local scene for years, intros by name for you and those you are with are a big deal; I'd say essential.

I'm not good at remembering names; my wife is (former teacher). You can learn to remember them. I used to write down names around a table at a meeting (shows age: notebook, write, meeting). A solution is the (alleged) Bill Clinton networking approach: the equivalent of the Rolodex (even older!) notes of who, where, when after the encounter. But it does sound really creepy applied to social AT.

Still, if you frequent a local scene for years, intros by name for you and those you are with are a big deal; I'd say essential.

And that's probably the key aspect. It's a community, not just a dance market.

 

[JournalInTime]

Try it with mild facial aphasia!

Oof, that sounds tough.

My own issue: I have bad vision – myopia and astigmatism that started at -4 and worsened to scary figures throughout my life, an obscure aberration that can't be corrected, developing presbyopia, and a strabismus that wasn't corrected when I was young. With eyeglasses, I can recognize people nearby in bright light . . . but milongas are often dark and require me to invite people on the far side of a large room. As I'm also moderately colorblind, things like "She's blonde" or "She has a mauve blouse" aren't much help. And as I can't dance without my specs, which some followers dislike, people sometimes turn me down.

So, I feel you.

 

[TTanguero]

Oof, that sounds tough.

Can also be amusing! I've more than once introduced myself to a follower as we enter the embrace, and had a response along the lines of "I know, Ben, we danced yesterday" ...

 

[JournalInTime]

Can also be amusing! I've more than once introduced myself to a follower as we enter the embrace, and had a response along the lines of "I know, Ben, we danced yesterday" ...

I know that one, too. I just laugh!

The shoe on the other foot, I have the advantage of a name that people struggle with here. Québécois(es) have serious problems with my name, "Sean," despite its similarity to "Jean" – due to the drawn-out vowel sound relative to the short, sharp one in "Jean," they most often they think my name is "Charles." But my East Asian friends call me "Chang" or "Xian." I answer to anything. Anyway, that breaks the ice.

 

[JournalInTime]

And that's probably the key aspect. It's a community, not just a dance market.

That's my view as well.

I know quite a few dancers who are "competitive," in that for them, tango is about dancing with as many "good" partners as possible, and raising their profile. They care that you know their name, but they don't want your name unless you perform, teach, and preferably tour. I dislike their attitude, but I'm diplomatic at heart and take it in stride. Anyway, those people do nothing whatsoever to build a community, because they're blind to 90%+ of the people in it and follow market trends to choose partners, studios, and events.

I try to do the opposite. I ask names. I dance with people who look like they want to dance, and re-invite the ones who are happy to dance, irrespective of fame or level. In fact, I avoid the popular, higher-level dancers because they have full dance cards and don't need me. I choose partners, studios, and events that need my support. I'll probably never be seen as high-level or desirable (and I suspect that's why I'm never invited to invitation-only events), but I like to think I'm part of the community, not the market.

 

[JournalInTime]

And as I can't dance without my specs, which some followers dislike, people sometimes turn me down.

Incidentally, this is why I'm grumpy about people aiming for any sort of contact above the shoulders. I must wear my glasses to dance safely – it isn't optional if I want to avoid walking into people and obstacles. The contact lenses that would fix my vision don't exist yet, and the laser surgeon just shook her head sadly. So, I'm insistent on minimizing the risk of contact with my specs.

To bring that somewhat on topic:

Eyeglasses mess with the cabeceo, particularly under certain lighting conditions where there are reflections off the lenses or shadows caused by the frames. Also, my strabismus means that I invite the wrong person much of the time. Thus, there are valid physical reasons to invite people in other ways.

I've also noticed that certain followers refuse to accept invitations from leaders who wear eyeglasses. I'm not sure whether it's because they can't avoid head-to-head contact and fear they'll knock off the glasses, assume that such leaders can't avoid contact and will smash their glasses, believe that such leaders can't see the traffic for floorcraft purposes, find specs aesthetically unpleasing, or think that not removing glasses is somehow a sign of disrespect. But it's a real thing that drives me nuts.

I once had someone not so much ask me as tell me to take off my glasses. From my perspective, that's way over in the Land of Unrepentant Rudeness.

 

[Mr. Moustachio]

Québécois(es) have serious problems with my name, "Sean," despite its similarity to "Jean"

I'd like to point out to English speakers who don't speak French that "Jean" (in French) does not rhyme with "bean." It's pronounced like "John."

 

[JournalInTime]

I'd like to point out to English speakers who don't speak French that "Jean" (in French) does not rhyme with "bean." It's pronounced like "John."

Of course, "Sean" (in English) doesn't rhyme with "bean," either – it's pronounced just like "John," just with an "S."

I honestly can't figure out why, when I say "Sean" correctly, I get back "Charles."

 

[ProgressNotPerfection]

Of course, "Sean" (in English) doesn't rhyme with "bean," either – it's pronounced just like "John," just with an "S."

I honestly can't figure out why, when I say "Sean" correctly, I get back "Charles."

Because the French pronunciation of the name “Charles” starts with the same soft “sh” sound as the name “Sean,” and is followed by the same open “ah” sound, before trailing off into an indistinct final consonant - all of which is done in a single syllable.
Sean…Shawn…Shaw…Shawl…Sharl…
Also, your tongue starts from the same position (against the insides of your upper back teeth and the roof of your mouth) when you say both names, and then your jaw lowers by the same amount, so the two names look almost identical to someone who is watching your mouth when you speak (as many of us do, when there is loud music blocking aural input).

In American English, of course, we tend to chew up our consonant clusters and make meals of them. Where I live, the name “Charles” starts with the harsh “tch” sound (as in “fetch”) and has two complete syllables: tchar-ulls - and thus would never be confused for the name “Sean.” But in Quebec? Doesn’t surprise me at all. Especially if there’s loud music and conversation in the background.

 

[JournalInTime]

Sean…Shawn…Shaw…Shawl…Sharl…

Thank you! That makes perfect sense. Especially since I pull the quintessentially québécois move of speaking French and then casually dropping my name in English : «Enchanté! Je m'appelle Sean.» And I say my name with a Nova Scotia accent, which softens and elongates it.

 

[ProgressNotPerfection]

Thank you! That makes perfect sense. Especially since I pull the quintessentially québécois move of speaking French and then casually dropping my name in English : «Enchanté! Je m'appelle Sean.» And I say my name with a Nova Scotia accent, which softens and elongates it.

I suppose you could try overemphasizing the final consonant: “je m’appelle Sean-NUH” - but you might get some funny looks in return. And I bet you’d rather be called “Charles” than “Shawna.”

Ooo! I have a brilliant (?) idea. “Je m’appelle Sean. As in Connery.”

How’s your Scottish accent?

(Ok, sorry; I’ll stop being silly now.)

 

[JournalInTime]

I suppose you could try overemphasizing the final consonant: “je m’appelle Sean-NUH” - but you might get some funny looks in return. And I bet you’d rather be called “Charles” than “Shawna.”

Yeah, that falls into the "What could possibly go wrong?" category.

Ooo! I have a brilliant (?) idea. “Je m’appelle Sean. As in Connery.”

How’s your Scottish accent?

(Ok, sorry; I’ll stop being silly now.)

You laugh, but I do that! «Je m'appelle Sean. Comme Sean Connery, mais moins riche.» It works fairly well with people my age and older. A lot of 20- and 30-somethings have no clue who I'm talking about; maybe I should say "Sean Combs" in their case?