Each rendezvous I place a few coins in the box that is tied with a cord to his ankle to dissuade snatch thieves who might think robbing the blind is easy-pickings. I've never known his name, I simply call him Maestro. He calls me caballero (gentleman). The titles we have conferred on one another seem to be enough to foster our respectful friendship. Recently returned to La Paz I've kept an eye out, looking in all the customary spots. But no where to be found. And then today in the market, I heard strains of his Bandoneon. I made my way through the swarm of shoppers to see his hands, enjoy his phrasing (accents on the 1st, (sometimes also 2nd) 4th, 5th, and 7th beats) and watch the crowd respond to Milonga al Fresco! Because no matter where el Maestro plays the world changes for the better... an inspired young man took a long-legged girl into his arms, looked deeply into her eyes and they danced a few pasos - at first impassioned, then laughingly and clearly much taken with one another. It didn't matter they hadn't a clue. The crowd applauded their youth, their lack of inhibition and the fact they were in love. BRAVO! MILONGA AL FRESCO! BRAVO MAESTRO!
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