booty call

It is no secret that the famous Latin machismo is alive and well in Buenos Aires. In a lot of ways, men, both young and old, rule this city. They dine alone and in large groups, spend hours over beers, and love, but oh how they love women. It seems that men are trained from birth to admire women and admire them out loud.

It took some serious adjusting and constantly referring to my lunfardo dictionary to get used to being subject to a barrage of remarks in the city and to understand what was being said to me. Indeed the divorce rate is high in Argentina, and the infidelity rate even higher. Just the other day I was sitting in a locutorio as a middle-aged man was typing on an instant messenger to a scantily clad girl on a web cam while simultaneously assuring his wife at the other end of his cell phone that he would be home soon. How can you blame him? There’s just something about women that makes men do crazy things. Combine that with the springtime sun that will soon become oppressive, summertime swelter, and you have one hell of a horny city. Sex is big business here. Telos, or by-the-hour hotels are everywhere and range from seedy, back alley, dirt huts to Vegas-style masterpieces replete with vibrating beds and room service menus offering a variety of sex toys. Where else to take your lover when the wife is waiting for you at home?

I think booking my plane tickets home got me thinking about men and machismo in Buenos Aires. It is just luck that the Casa Rivadavia is beside the pancho stand where all the motorcyclists in Buenos Aires post up to drink beer and peep ass. I can barely get a foot out the door without an ay, mamita or mirá que cola or sos una bomba. It is so common to hear such things that I actually get offended these days if I don’t. Men indiscriminately holler, whistle, whisper, and whoop at women – young and old, fat and thin, gorgeous and missing teeth. The surprising thing is that it feels good and a great gauge these days for me to know when I absolutely, inarguably look like hell.

So I keep thinking about going back to Santa Barbara to visit in December, escaping the worst of miniskirt months in BA. I think about the men at the stores around the house and my neighbors who call me preciosa, linda, corazón, and querida. Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, I think maybe my self-esteem jumped a point or two. It will be strange to go back to a more reserved plane and people; a place where really I am just another brown-haired fat girl. I miss my family and friends so much but when I finally pack it in here, it’s the little things that I will miss. I guess I am starting to come around on the machismo… that’s all I am saying.

banda ancha blues

I am sharing the following in the name of timeless comedy. Anyone who has spent time in Argentina knows the woes of the banda ancha or high speed internet service. While Buenos Aires is modern and speedy, finding good, reliable internet in your home can be tougher than you think... just ask my boss.

Since moving to Argentina and working on a website, my life has been a complicated mix of WiFi cafes, shuffling my laptop to the hostel across the street, and locutorios - little stores with by the hour internet. Locutorios are absolutely everywhere, incredibly cheap at $1-2 pesos per hour, and generally pretty speedy. However, a couple of days ago, I learned the dark side of shared computers in Latin America.

In a huge rush, sending a quick IM, I ran from the locutorio leaving my MSN Messenger open. What ensued was apparently a bevvy of IMs to friends and former colleagues from a bored Argentine teenager. PRETTY HILARIOUS and not a bit sad. I have, countless times, used a shared computer at a locutorio when someone has left their IM open and, like a good citizen have closed it. NO MORE. I can't wait to find someone's open Messenger so that I can 'Pay it forward' next time. MWAHAHAHA.

In the meantime, here is a transcript between my friend Tanya and "me". If you received a similar IM, I ensure you that I haven't taken up speaking Spanglish nor have I started youching mi clitoris in public... yet. Could my life BE more rediculous?

As they say in the BA... disculpe las molestas. I will be more careful in future.

Start of Clare.. heart of darkness buffer: Fri Oct 13
10:53:45 2006
[10:44] Clare.. heart of darkness: hello biatc
[10:44] Clare.. heart of darkness: h
[10:44] Tanya: lol
[10:44] Clare.. heart of darkness: bitch
[10:44] Tanya: hi stinky
[10:44] Clare.. heart of darkness: jajaja
[10:45] Tanya: it's okay, i got the gist of it
[10:45] Tanya: how are you, my love?!
[10:45] Clare.. heart of darkness: I'M OK
[10:45] Clare.. heart of darkness: i'm horny rightnow....
[10:45] Tanya: oh my god
[10:45] Tanya: too much information
[10:45] Tanya: where is your man?
[10:47] Tanya: oh, you're just going to say "i'm horny right now" and then leave?
[10:47] Tanya: pervert
[10:47] Clare.. heart of darkness: no
[10:47] Clare.. heart of darkness: i'm youching mi clitoris..
[10:48] Clare.. heart of darkness: i'm sooo horny i don't now why!
[10:48] Tanya: i will reiterate
[10:48] Tanya: tmi
[10:48] Tanya: can't you have your boyfriend take care of that?
[10:48] Clare.. heart of darkness: i'm sooo horny i don't now why!
[10:49] Clare.. heart of darkness: n o i take care myself...
[10:49] Tanya: uh, did you leave your im on and now somebody else is writing?
[10:49] Tanya: i hope?
[10:50] Clare.. heart of darkness: mm nop
[10:51] Tanya: so this is what you are writing to tell me?
[10:51] Tanya: don't you have some deep thoughts on international travel that you can share?
[10:51] *** "Clare.. heart of darkness" signed off at Fri Oct 13 10:51:23 2006.
End of Clare.. heart of darkness buffer: Fri Oct 13 10:53:45 2006