Aguascalientes is a comfortably sized city for me (under 1,000,000 people); the streets are safe no matter the time of day or night. Heart-warmingly friendly people who stop me in the street to welcome me to their city cos they can see I’m foreign.
HOW DOES EVERYONE KNOW? Do I have a larger & flatter ‘snorer’ than the rest of the Northern Hemisphere? Are my clothes so bizarre that I must come from the Antipodes (has ‘Once Were Warriors’ screened here?)..Nup, I don’t think it’s any of those things; after some serious people-watching & evaluation, I’m none the wiser! Certainly, there are white Mexicans here.
cheap, Cheap, cHeAp, ChEaP, CHEAP cost of living if you shop for food, clothes, & sundry other requirements at your local tiangues..10 peso’s (US$1) for the pair of Calvin Klein shorts that I bought & only peel off my body once they’ve become too crinkled for words … ah-ha..that’s it! No self-respecting Mexican steps out the door in jeans, shorts, or trousers without a knife-edged crease ironed down the middle of their pants! Now that I come to think of it, I haven’t seen any women wearing shorts either. No, that’s not true, I have seen a couple, but they were wearing ankle-breaking stiletto’s as well..definitely NOT my style!
Have you ever felt like you’re something under a microscope?
Whilst doing my ‘geriatric’ impersonation with a couple of ruined ankles for almost 2-months, I requested to be dropped at a park for fresh air & sunshine a couple of times..a nice break from my room & TV..or so I thought.
No matter where I sat, every time I glanced up from my book, I was confronted by ‘the stare’; women as well as men! As I mentioned in the ‘Moscow to Ags’ email, women don’t approach each other. I wasn’t concerned about the women’s stares..they were just curious & making feminine comparisons. The men were a different matter. Detrimental to my recuperation, but necessary for my psychological comfort, I moved several times.
Disconcerting were the 2 guys that came and flanked me on the bench, and spent an hour staring at me..”Go away guys, you’re making nervous!” is what I wanted to say..afraid of being paranoid, insufficient language skills to hand, I settled for one acknowledging smile to each, and engrossed book reading thereafter.
What do you do?
Most disconcerting of all was the guy who spent 90-minutes maneuvering his way around a ¼ hectare of park until he was sitting next to me. Treated with ignore, after 30-minutes he wandered off..”whew!’ I thought. Then I spotted him in the next ‘bay’ peering round at me. “OK! Now you’re freaking me out!” An intricate navigation of the park..a wheelchair or zimmer-frame would’ve been helpful..eventually out onto the very public benches overlooking the main road..frigging hot & sweaty terrain, but I lost the cretin!
It’s the 1st time I’ve felt intimidated here.
When Rene collected me to take me back to the hotel, I talked about my ‘microscope’ day. He said “you dress differently..you walk differently..everything about you is different.. most are attracted to you because you’re different, & your age doesn’t matter..there’s nothing you can do to change what they see; the young ones are more aggressive..You did right to get away from the weird guy though!”
That was a useless educational pep-talk because I still can’t see what everyone else seems to see.
“Rene, why do Mexican women use umbrellas instead of wearing hats?” (I feel like a 4-year-old!) It stems from the early Spanish occupation apparently, and they’ve never changed. “Oh, and that’s another thing that identifies you as foreign..you wear hats!”
Interesting information/Spanish lesson: umbrella in summer = parasol..para (for) + sol (sun).
I saw a ridiculous sight today (actually, most days)..a woman with a perfectly pretty and functional hat, held aloft like a parasol to keep the sun off her. What the …? Hat hair; it has to be a fear of hat hair! I can ‘get’ that..after a day sitting in the park or traipsing the streets in a hat my hair looks like 200 grams of rat’s tails; better that than rushing about holding a hat above my head like a loon though!
2nd visit to the park..I’m NOT doing it again! One guy came to sit and talk with me; he spoke English, was 27 years old, and asked me to be his girlfriend! Disrespectful laughter didn’t work. “No, you’re too young for me” didn’t work. “No, I’m only attracted to men my own age” didn’t work. “No, I have a son your age” didn’t work. “No, I work in Guadalajara and am going back there tomorrow” didn’t work. “No, you’re moving to Canada in a couple of months” didn’t work. Fernando (“Like the ABBA song” he told me proudly, and sang the chorus) gave me his phone number, and demanded to know when I would call him, and when he could come and stay with me in Guadalajara! “Never!” I said. Undeterred, he finally left me with assurances that we WOULD become lovers! Good Grief!!!
Hot on Fernando’s heels came Arturo, who spoke almost no English. He wanted me to go for a walk through the park with him. When I pointed out my broken ankle and said I couldn’t, he told me he’s a professional masseur, and went to grab my leg. “NO!” I yelped. More talk, he wanted to know where I’m from, where I’ve been in Mexico, and when we could get together. “Sorry, we can’t, I’m going back to Guadalajara tomorrow, which is where I work.” “That’s great! I’m a tour company manager and I’m in Guadalajara every week. I can see you there! What’s your phone number?” he said. (Huh? I thought he said he was a professional masseur!) Give me strength!
After Arturo came the guy..I dunno..maybe 20?, who all-but attached himself to my hips. He skipped to either side of me, depending on who looked as though he may seat himself next to me. No-one was going to come between us! He never once spoke to me. Since that day, I’ve spotted him in the same shops I’ve been in; curiously we seem to have the same itinerary. This guy doesn’t scare me; I think he’s just curious & shy.
I did discover one invaluable defense trick..Mexican guys can’t cope with full exposure to the sun. They overheat, and their skin burns. Go my reptilian need to bask in the sun; go my Kiwi Teflon skin! All requests to sit in the shade turned down, it’s only a matter of time before the boys are forced to abandon their quest!
My only almost-welcome ‘amour’ is a senior cop often in the area. He’s an oldish codger (gotta be in his 60’s), and a real gentleman. He’s often personally walked me across roads arm-in-arm when the lights change to ‘pedestrian’; once on the other side, he kisses my hand & returns to duty. Today, when I grinned & greeted him with “Buenos dias” he grabbed my hand, fished into his pocket, and ‘made me his fiancé’ by sliding an incredibly tacky yellow plastic heart-ring with glitter and pink and white flowers set inside onto my left hand . What a hoot! This time, he stopped ‘green-light’ traffic, and I was helped across the road with his arm around my waist.
Rene was astounded when I showed him my “engagement” ring. Floored when I told him about the regular traffic-stopping and escorts. “But..but he’s a nasty old b@st@rd! Everyone’s scared of him! J#s%s Kiwi-Chick, you’re an unusual one!”
Mobile again (should’ve been tentative, but why go for anything less than ‘all guns blazing..no guts, no glory?’) I ended up going for what became a 2-hour walk. A life-time’s worth of ogling endured, I found myself down where ‘The Ferria’ will be centered. The great thing about my hats here, they have big woven brims that I can see through..it’s a one-way convenience. When I’m sure all is flat and safe I take a glance up from the road to get my bearings or take in a ‘cool’ sight, but not such a high glance that anyone can see my eyes (sunglasses are helpful too). I cop the full impact of everyone’s gaze, but they don’t know I’ve seen them so they can’t interpret any encouragement from me. Most are content with unacknowledged open-mouthed gazing, plenty seek a reaction by whistling and cat-calling. Some come right into my space and demand attention by grabbing hold of me..arm or body twist to release their grip (Angel gave me some nice little personal protection lessons back in January), glasses raised to give the full impact of my eyes when brassed off! “DON’T touch me!” The combination of skillful twisting & stroppy eyes & voice works wonders! Mexican girlies are free with their kisses, but not much else; wives & ‘novias’ (girlfriends) are feisty but controllable; a foreign, single, white woman who’s friendly & chats but refuses to be ‘easy game’ is a novelty & commands respect..”sorry, I’m so sorry, let me take you to dinner & introduce you to my family!”
A month or so ago I was flattered by the ‘gentlemanly’ appreciation I was getting. With ‘The Ferria’ looming & the population swelling from circa 600,000 to 4 million, too many men are from out of town & aggressively out of control; I’m really hating being alone in public at the moment.
Time out..I need to get indoors and eat some food over my book, under my hat and through the tissues with which I indelicately blow my nose at the moment!
Bon Appetite .. Prietnovo Appetit .. Enjoy your Meal!
Sunday, May 28, 2006 The Ferria is over..hoo-oo-oo-rah! Aguascalientes is back to normal. I was introduced to a local guy today..a car-detailer. He’s a sweet wee man who turned himself inside-out telling me I have beautiful eyes, with no sexual overtones. YEAH RIGHT! I HAVEN’T SLEPT FOR A WEEK. I LOOK LIKE CRAP!
Monday, May 29, 2006 I’m back to not getting it! How do the Northern Hemispheroids know?..I let a WHITE guy through the gates today..I was wearing a skirt, top, & shoes bought in Mexico; no-one in NZ would’ve looked twice at him, no chance of considering him a foreigner..but he took one look at me & started speaking fractured English. Once inside the office, he was clearly a native Mexican.
Oh, it must be my trend-setting all-over array of mosquito bites at the moment! Ok, the mystery’s solved..for now!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment