While in Argentina, my
first priority has not been finding an Argentine boyfriend. There are a few
reasons for this:
- The Cubata - The Argentine mullet which is still very much in style and sported by a large population of would-be attractive men.
- Smoking – cheap, popular with many men, and total turn-off.
- The Argentine male population’s complete disregard for the fact that no, I am not like the girls in American Pie, or American Pie 2, or EuroTrip or wherever else you get your impression of US women.
This is a continuation
of my previous blog, “Three Incredible Chicas” because the following all
occurred on the same bus we had to fight to get onto (only casualty,
Alexandra’s pride). So without further ado… the story of Hugo ladies and
gentleman.
After finally
clambering onto the bus, we four girls collapse into seats (Yona and I in one
row and Lorri and Alexandra behind us) still unable to breathe through fits of
giggles. It didn’t help that our 300 pound friend was sitting a few rows up
oozing over one of the single seats by the window and fueling our hilarity as
we relived Alexandra’s poor luck of an encounter with him. We were lucky to get
seats though as more and more people crowded onto the bus, filling the aisle
with bodies – the less aggressive folks who were going to have to stand the
whole bus ride back.
We were sitting
towards the front of the bus, so just as the last handful of people were paying
their fares and pushing for railing space, four Argentines get on the bus and
head for the last open standing room, right next to our seats. There was one
blondish guy (definitely not naturally blonde), one guy with enormous ears, one
guy who looked a little older than the others, and Hugo…
…who was the most
beautiful Argentine we’d ever seen.
Clean shaven, cubata-free,
beautiful brown eyes and with quite the dashing smile I think I heard Lorri and
Alexandra audibly sigh behind me. Of course these four guys are quite taken
with the sight of us girls (clearly foreign) and are staring curiously, and
naturally Yona starts talking to them. And by “them” I mean Hugo.
Argentines are very friendly people and with nothing better to do and a long bus ride ahead, Hugo and Yona start happily chatting away. She explains we’re exchange students and we all introduce ourselves. I’m completely content at this point to just let Yona talk, at least I have a legitimate excuse to stare at Hugo now and admire without the pressure of using my brain. Over the course of their conversation, Yona learns (and relays to the rest of us) a lot about Hugo and his friends, here’s a quick recap:
Hugo – Non-smoker,
training to be a police officer, birthday August 22nd (no
seriously), turning 22 years old, a little shy, knows very little English, and
still takes the cake for most gorgeous Argentine we’ve seen.
Hugo’s Friends – Wait…
on second thought, we only got to know Hugo.
As you can see, Yona’s
pretty good at getting to know people, language barrier or not, and every now
and then I would try to pop in some intelligent phrase or question in Spanish,
but mostly I just smiled and stared. During one of the lolls in conversation
though, Hugo suddenly looks at me and says in broken English, “I love your
eyes.”
New recap:
Hugo – Non-smoker,
training to be a police officer, birthday August 22nd, turning 22
years old, a little shy, knows very little English, still takes the cake for
most gorgeous Argentine we’ve seen… and he’s suddenly flirting with me.
Oh dear god.
Next came the
onslaught of questions and flirtatious small talk all of which was made far
more difficult primarily by Hugo’s thick Argentine accent, but also by Lorri
and Alexandra taking full advantage of Hugo’s lack of English skills by
commentating on all the proceedings. Here’s an example:
Hugo: What kind of
music do you like? (Looking at me and blushing)
Yona: All sorts
actually! Music is so interesting and I love all sorts of genres,
particularly….
(Lisa breathes sigh of
relief because now I KNOW I understood the question and have time to formulate
a response. Meanwhile…)
Lorri/Alexandra: Don’t
mess this one up Lisa. Music’s super important here! Op! He just sneaked
another glance your way!! Stop turning red, you look like a tomato! Say you
like any music he’d sing to you… (dissolve into fits of laughter).
Lisa: I like lots of
music too. (Tomato status reached at this point). Coldplay, The Beatles…
Hugo: Greenday?
Lisa: Sí! (We both
blush and look away from each other).
This occurred various
times with a variety of questions Hugo was brave enough to ask me and which I
relied on Yona to translate:
What’s your favorite
color?
- · His: orange like the sunset
- · Mine: yellow like sunflowers (he was very excited about this response)
Do you like coca-cola?
Do you like Mendoza?
Do you like to dance?
And Ale and Lorri’s
personal favorite…
Do you like cops?
“Oooooo!! Tell him you
like a man who can protect you! And that you have a thing for handcuffs!” (More
laughter and general hilarity as I try not to burst out laughing myself). I
think I managed to say something about how cops are important for the security
of the community and that I admire people who take on such a dangerous job.
There was only one
time I tried to be really flirtatious, and here’s how that went:
What languages do you
speak?
Yona: “Spanish,
English….
Meanwhile I ask Lorri
and Ale if I should use the one pick-up line I know, that I’m fluent in “body
language” (as in I know how to move on a dance floor).
Ale and Lorri: “Do
it!!! Just say ‘expresión corporal’! Oh my gosh this is going to be so good!!”
Confidence fully
built-up by my cheerleaders behind me, when Yona finished her spiel about the
difficulties of learning Japanese, I started listing off what languages I knew…
“Spanish, English, and
expression corporal”
Hugo: Oh! Sign
language?
Damn. Now I’ve just
undermined a very difficult language used to communicate with the
hearing-impaired. Awesome.
I decided to stop
flirting after that.
 |
| Hugo is the attractive one closest to Yona and I. Sorry the picture quality is not ideal. |
At this point, I
thought I was home free, but unfortunately the four of us missed our connecting
bus to Mendoza due to all the weekend traffic. We plopped ourselves down on
some benches and reenacted our favorite moments from my attempt to flirt and
Hugo’s attempt to get to know me. This brief intermission was duly interrupted
when, low and behold, Hugo and his friends come casually sauntering up to us
(me turning red instantly). Turns out they’re taking the later bus to Mendoza
too.
For a little while,
the scene looked very much like that of a junior high lunch room. – a group of
girls all huddled together, a group of guys all huddled together and much
sneaking of glances between the two. Hugo was too shy to come over and talk to
me, regardless of his friends’ bantering, and I frankly just didn’t have the ability
(Spanish was completely escaping me at this point).
Instead, my friends
and I decided to show off a little of our “body language” (not to be confused
with sign language) by practicing a little Tango. We stand up and start going
through the moves, and sure enough, the guys start curiously watching us.
Lorri, god bless her, knew the steps for the man and did her best to “make me
look good” for my on looking suitor. Eventually, the awkwardness was broken
enough for us to ask if any of them danced Tango to which they responded that
Tango is more the dance of Buenos Aires, and that instead, they prefer Folclore
– the dance of the guachos. “Oh so you all dance folclore?” “Yes,” answered the
guy with the big ears, “but Hugo’s the best out of all of us.”
Quick Review:
Hugo – Non-smoker,
training to be a police officer, birthday August 22nd, turning 22
years old, a little shy, knows very little English, still takes the cake for
most gorgeous Argentine we’ve seen, and he’s a folclore master….
Why don’t you just try
a little harder to make this guy perfect God? Hmmm?
At this moment,
fortunately, my Spanish speaking ability came back to me and I (much to my own
surprise) asked if he could give me a quick lesson, and, sure enough, in the
middle of the bus depot I learned some folclore from the most gorgeous
Argentine man I’ve met. (See photo for proof). Key to folclore? Don’t take your
eyes off the eyes of your partner. It seemed we’d come full circle with the
whole “eyes” theme.
 |
| I swear I'm dancing. I would never just walk away from this guy... |
Unfortunately Hugo and
I couldn’t spend all night staring at each other and dancing in the bus
station, and soon enough our buses came to take us home. We were in separate buses
to get back, but from the window Hugo and I blew kisses to each other and drew
hearts on the windows, (with much hurrahs from my girlfriends and the same from
his guy friends). By the time our buses pulled out from the station and I could
finally start digesting what happened, I found that I really couldn’t. The whole
experience was way too much like a movie:
Boy meets girl on bus.
Boy expresses his affections to girl. Girl and boy reunited in bus terminal.
Dance traditional dance whilst staring into each other’s eyes. Boy and girl
part after expressing their love for one another.
Isn’t that the plot of
some Hollywood film? I have to think so, cus there’s no way that’s my life.
In fín, I never saw
Hugo again after that, which I’m grateful for because my inability to speak
with him would have undoubtedly turned into some version of Cyrano de Bergerac
with Yona being my wing man (not that she has a big nose). Nope. That one night
was enough of an adventure for me with the men of Argentina, but one last
thought…
…thanks dad! Seems
like I wasn’t such a “victim” of heredity this time!! XD
-Lisa en Argentina
