Oh. My. Goodness.

I wasn't going to write anything today because it seemed like a pretty normal day. Went to class, fell asleep in class, came back to the apartment, ate a big lunch, and then went to my meeting with my language partner.  Aaaand, that's when my day got interesting.

I signed up for a language partner through the school. Not a date.

Apparently, Spanish "gentlemen" use the language exchange program (we get matched up with someone who wants to learn English, and they help us with Spanish) as a dating service.  His name is Jose and he is a 21 year-old student from Granada. We agreed to meet at school at 5 pm, so there I was at 5 pm standing in the middle of the entrance-way waiting for him.  After a few confusing phone calls, I saw a man walk into the school and immediately thought, "please please please do NOT let this be him." It was. Of course it was.

Think Jersey Shore meets Spain.  Spiked hair with gel, a leather jacket with some sort of chain/belt contraption, awkward facial hair that was trying to be a beard, and low pants.  Also, he looked waaaay older than 21 (but I've noticed people in general here look older than they really are).  Members of the UConn group were there and I tried to flash some of them a, "please help me!" look, but they were busy being jealous that I already got paired up with someone.  As Andrew, my life guru from Cape Cod, always says, "You can tell a lot about a person by looking at their eyes."  I generally have excellent instincts about people anyways, and I also remembered Andrew's advice when I looked at this punk.  Jose's eyes were shifty, and generally creepy. What to do, what to do.

I decided to give him a try, since my mom says I don't do that enough.  Thanks mom, by the way. I blame this situation on you (kidding).  He said something about a nice coffee shop nearby.  I didn't know that nearby meant a 25 minute walk, but whatever.  While mulling over my options as to what to do if he tried to kidnap me, I decided to make sure we stayed in a public place.  We got to the coffee shop.  It was actually really good.  By that I mean the food was good, because I got frozen yogurt with candy on top.  The conversation sucked.  He asked me to tell him about myself. "Okay Lauren, you can do that," I thought.  He listened to nothing I said, as his eyes were glued to my chest.  Obviously he was not listening at ALL, because the next question was irrelevant: "Do you have a boyfriend?" Here we go!

Now, I have experienced some creepy boys at UConn before and generally know how to handle myself in these situations.  Sometimes I claim to be a lesbian, but I decided this was not the right venue for that.  Plus, maybe he was just curious! Give him the benefit of the doubt. I said, "No, no, I don't have a boyfriend." That should have been the end. Nope. Not with this lovely young fellow.  He proceeded to berate me with questions as to why I don't have a boyfriend, because that must be impossible! He repeatedly told me I was too beautiful to be single, and that I was just so pretty! I politely said "Gracias," because I know there are cultural differences and I have heard that Spanish men are usually very forward.  But he kept going. For the ENTIRE time.  He kept repeating that I had pretty eyes. Come on, really? My eyes close when I smile half the time, I forgot to wear makeup today AND I haven't really slept in three weeks so there are large bags under them.  At least say I have a nice smile.  Or keep those comments to yourself until you get to know my personality.

I would've been okay with all of this to some extent if he wasn't still staring at my chest. Then he paid for the check, because "I always will pay for girls with pretty eyes." I decided to ask him about how Spanish people at the discotechas do not dance inappropriately (like at UConn) and they laugh and take pictures of Americans when we uhh, grind with Spanish boys.  He told me (in different words) that he likes Americans because they are easy.

So. I tried to hustle back to the school, where I was meeting Hannah in ten minutes.  He followed me. Yay. I managed to walk into some poor old woman, and she yelled. He put his arm around me. No. I finally turned to him and said "Adios."

I hate when people touch me. I hate when boys are overly forward. I hate when boys are creeps.  I'm sure a lot of this was due to cultural differences, but it doesn't really matter to me. I felt so uncomfortable. I have come to the stunning realization that I miss American boys.  At least they don't carry purses or wear scarves.  Also they smell like a man, which is how a boy SHOULD smell.  Most of all, I only wanted to have a language partner.  I have no interest in a boyfriend.  Also, why is it so shocking that I don't have a boyfriend? He was completely floored.  The compliment was flattering, but it came off waaay wrong.

I'm finding this country to be sexist and definitely stuck in a time where women were not thought of as being independent.  This is a problem for somebody like me, since I am super independent.

Along similar lines, last night I tried to play soccer at the main university (not where I go to school).  I was told I couldn't.  Every single person playing (and there were a lot of people) was a male.  Apparently, girls don't play.  I had heard this before, but I was hoping maybe it'd be a false rumor.  The sad thing is that a middle-aged women told me that women don't play soccer in a very matter-of-fact tone.  She didn't even care that women are so limited (at least in my eyes).  Apathy. I despise it. The man working at the office in the university asked where I was from, and when I said the United States, he was shocked I had even touched a soccer ball before, or even knew what soccer was.  If my Spanish was better, I would've asked him if he had ever heard of Mia Hamm.  She was, in fact, an American woman who was actually pretty decent at soccer, or something like that.

There is a reason why the Spanish women's national team didn't qualify for the World Cup, when the men's Spanish national team won the whole thing.  Now I understand.

I have never been so grateful for the opportunities I have at home.  They always say the United States is the land of opportunity.  I never fully understood that before, but now I most certainly do.

P.S. E-mail from my Spanish lover! "I just want to tell you that I had a great afternoon today. You are a lovely and a funny girl ^-^."


Hmm...should I not answer or should I not answer? I think I won't answer.  Americans are all easy though, duh! (He found the wrong girl. Sorry dude!)