Aneya: Ahh, men. Where to begin? Men baffle me on every continent, and South America is no different. Of course, I've heard many rumors about Latin men, all of which had some sort of negative connotation. They're aggressive and sleazy! They suffer from that whole "machismo" complex. They're loud and rude! They're sexual predators, out on the prowl for a new girl every night! They're savages, savages, I tell you!
Well, now that I've been here a few weeks, I can inform you all that yes, some of that is true, and some of it is just hyperbole. Let's just say I was prepared for the worst.
Lauren: Oh, the Latinos. I too am quite familiar with those same stereotypes associated with men from Latin American countries. But, as is true of any country, it takes all kinds and there are as many cads and lechers here as in the U.S. or anywhere. There definitely seems to be like a more amorous attitude here on every level. People are more affectionate with the family and friends, and definitely with their significant other. And, as would be expected, people are more, hm, vocal, about certain things.
Aneya: Lauren and I have gotten plenty of stares, lots of horns honking, and, this is the worst, lots of kissy sounds. This is truly revolting. The sounds seem to emanate from everywhere. Cars, street vendors, men just standing around chatting. One time a man meowed at me! I swear to god, I was walking alone, looking for a store, and a group of men were sitting there, seemingly entranced by my every move. Then, one of them started meowing at me! I thought there might be a cat nearby, but no, that special sound was just for me. What kind of response do they want from me? Do they want me to bark at them? To meow back? To tell them how impressed I am by their animal sounds? It's all very peculiar.
Lauren: There is an entire vocab devoted to such behavior, according my constant reference to all things Chilean (Daniela). The jotes are the men that whistle, stare, or shout. The churro is the long kissing noise. Especially revolting. Most of the time, if I'm running through the neighboring Parque Forestal in my tight exercise clothes, these sounds just become a blur behind the music of my iPod. Or, when headed to dinner or wherever, I imagine them part of the landscape of city noises: the bus's breaks screeching, the rustling of leaves, the blasting of the castle's cannon at noon, and the "Ooooh, que (insert adjective here)!"
It's some forwardness that I can do without. You can say or do whatever you need to from a 10 foot distance, but touching, grabbing my arm, that's a call for the law enforcement-strength Mace because that's just too close. But there's really no threat. Usually.
Aneya: Then, we went to the now infamous castle party, which was where we really got a chance to see men, out on the prowl, as they say. The men here seem to ogle more than in the U.S., and stare freely at a woman's breasts and butt, as if making notes: "Nice rack, flat ass". They're all quite friendly and confident, even if they don't speak a word of English. They can be aggressive, but only if you seem game, too.
Lauren: I don't remember that! But then again, that night really was a blur. Friendly and confident, si. That one guy was crazy about you Aneya, so I can imagine why you'd notice the aggressiveness. It's like he had a tracking sensor on Aneya and could find her anywhere.
Aneya: The whole "machismo complex" doesn't seem to apply here, or at least, I haven't had the misfortune of encountering it, yet. The men on the streets generally say nice things, if anything, in passing. Pretty, beautiful, my love (that's a little much) one guy called me rica (which can mean delicious or, even worse, tasty) which is kind of gross, but then again, I've had worst things hollered at me in L.A.
Lauren: I wouldn't consider rica nice, and sometimes if I'm actually paying attention the shouting can really drive me bananas. It's just rude. And some things are just vulgar. But it's not young, attractive men who are saying these things. It's 50ish (or older) men who are hollering or even stranger whispering! Quite often the jotes wait until you are just ... out ... of ... sight to start talking. Usually it's a cowardly mumble under their breath as they walk by. Just peculiar.
Aneya: The men here seem bemused by us, if anything. They love playing the "guess my ethnicity" game with me, and I love playing, because I know they'll always be wrong. Brazilian? Argentinean? Arab? No, no, no. I get the feeling "half Sri Lankan" is not their next guess.
Lauren: Ha! I mean, really. It is like we have green skin or five eyes. The way people look at us sometimes is just priceless. It's both fascination and I can't even say. Something else for sure.
Aneya: They do seem to love my hair and are transfixed by it, as they are with Lauren and her white skin. Lauren said she felt like a martian here, with all the stares she was getting. I told her to get used to it, because it's not gonna stop. I just hope I can gather enough vocabulary to one day say, "Back off, man, she's mine!" Although that might just make them more excited. Oh well, c'est la vie.
-- Aneya & Lauren
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