La Chica Yanqui learns to Shake

Taking a break from watching Freaky Friday dubbed into Spanish to note down some of my weekend experiences...

I went clothes shopping yesterday for the first time since arriving. Leti (my host sister) took me around the barrio and showed me all of the best places to buy clothes. I fell in love with one store, Takana, that sells clothes made by independent designers. I got two dresses and a skirt (todos muy lindos!) for 290 pesos total, which is less than 75 bucks (what WHAT). There are cheaper clothes here, too, but these are of excellent quality and exactly my style (I branched out a little bit – only two of these items are purple.)

Last night, Leti graciously took me out for a real noche porteña. She did my makeup for me (possibly more than I have ever worn off-stage) and helped me pick out my outfit. We left the house around 1 am (“Oh, it’s still early,” they all say), then met up with a couple of her friends, and made it to the boliche around 2 am. My first real boliche, says Leti – Sahara didn’t count! This one was definitely bigger and nicer, with a much bigger crowd, and everyone seemed to be in the 19 to 25 age group. √ +. The club is Club Araoz and the boliche is called “Lost/Shake” – Lost on Thursdays, Shake on Fridays. There’s a difference, don’t ask me what.

This night out was definitely very different from anything I’ve experienced in the States. Things that stood out:

1) Alcohol was not featured. People were drinking at the club, but I only saw a couple of people who were visibly drunk. In fact, no one I was with drank anything the entire night.

2) Men approach women assertively.* Vassarians, I know this happens at the Mug, too, but boliches foster a whole new breed of creepiness. There will constantly be a creeper standing by watching a group of girls, and a guy will grab a girl’s hand/waist/hips to start dancing and protest fiercely when she politely declines (usually she’ll say she has a boyfriend, even if this isn’t true). Not exactly my cup of tea, but the girls here are used to it – they laughed at how I disconcerted I looked as I observed these situations.

3) They danced ALL NIGHT. 2 am to 7 am. No sitting around drinking and talking, no late-night meal, no changing location. Just dancing. I cannot comprehend their stamina.

All in all, it was a fun night, with a healthy dose of culture shock. I don’t think I’ll be revisiting the boliche scene in a hardcore fashion anytime soon, but I’m glad I had the experience. Leti’s friends were also nice enough to teach me some actual dance steps to add to my usual endearingly (?) awkward routine.

Tonight, I’ll be out with the Americans! Tomorrow, I have readings to do, but I might also get to go to the theater again! I’m also expecting an overseas call from the ’rents tomorrow morning, they’re in Finland right now (our first time in completely opposite hemispheres!) They can take this blog shout-out as proof that I’m excited to talk to them!

As always, thanks for reading!

Les mando besos y abrazos :)

Isa

Word of the day: fiaca - n. Laziness.

Coming soon: Photos of classes and new clothes :) Watch me learn to juggle in style.

*Hey, do you like my asterisks?**

**Sorry. Continuing. Men approach women assertively...This is generally true in this city. Men (not all of them, obviously) call out to women on the street as they pass by (this is called piropo). Gwen and I even had someone whinny at us the other day. (I didn’t know that human vocal chords could produce such a very equine*** sound)

***I love the words equine, bovine, ovine, ursine, etc. I learned them through taking a Sporcle quiz. I don't often get the chance to use them. Forgive me.