Last night, I went with Caroline to the first club (or "discoteca" as they call them here) I've been to in Cáceres. I realized I really don't, in fact, like clubs at all. Here's why:
a) Girls spend forever putting on makeup beforehand (my roommate, for instance, got ready for hours before leaving the apartment), which stresses me out because I always just put on a little eyeliner and mascara, which takes 30 seconds at most. So I always feel like I've done something wrong and that I shouldn't even be allowed to enter the club--that I haven't sacrificed enough time pruning myself and therefore I'm not worthy of entering. Maybe I should go out and invest in some blush, fountain, and lipstick, but I don't even know where I'd begin or what colors I'd choose, and the energy all this involves makes my stomach churn. What's more, other girls show up in tiny dresses, heels, and no tights or jackets. They're willing to endure sore feet and the cold for the club, while I've got heel-less boots, a nice warm jacket, and adequately covered legs. I end up feeling guilty that I get to be comfortable, just like one o' the guys (who always get to wear warm jackets and heel-less shoes), while my fellow females are likely suffering, which in turn makes it hard for me to enjoy the night.
b) The volume of the music negates the possibility of conversation. This is about as long as a conversation gets in a club: "What's your name?" "Huh?" "What's your name?" "Mariel." "Maria?" "No, Mariel." "Maria?" "Yes." "Where are you from?" "Massachusetts." "What?" "Massachusetts." "What?" "Never mind." Therefore, if you want to interact with someone, the only way you can do so is by dancing. I like dancing, and I did enjoy dancing with Caroline right when we arrived last night. No one can deny that moving to music is satisfying. But I like moving to music, not moving up against random guys. However, guys on the prowl love clubs because the inability to converse gives them an excuse to immediately start grinding with you without having to get to know you at all first. Grinding, aka people pushing their bodies together in an extremely sexual way in the middle of huge crowds of other people, is considered socially acceptable because it is categorized as dancing, although "animal mating ritual" would be a much more accurate classification than "type of dance."I personally don't feel the need to get cozy with any random guy who for all I know could have picked his nose five minutes earlier or tortured his pet rat that afternoon. People on the street don't suddenly start pressing their sweaty bodies against you (or at least this hasn't happened to me...and I hope it hasn't happened to anyone else) so why is it suddenly OK in clubs?
c) It's suddenly OK in clubs because guys have the idea that girls are there simply to pick up guys (which is most definitely true of some girls, but definitely not all, and I speak from first-hand experience). Guys must think girls are just there waiting for a nice grinding session, or worse, for a kiss. (Yes. This happened last night. I was standing at the bar, with Caroline, when out of the blue and with no warning whatsoever, a grimy guy with an unappealing mustache kissed me. He didn't give me a kiss on each cheek, as would have been slightly more culturally appropriate. No. Smack on the lips, right out of nowhere. I now I'd slapped him, but just as I never think to honk at drivers who've done something dangerous on the road, I didn't think to do anything. I was too shocked). You shouldn't have to lie that you're married (which is what I did) in order to get guys not to harass you. You shouldn't need to be married in order to not want these things to happen to you. But somehow these charming men can't seem to comprehend that a girl who isn't married or even in a relationship could actually prefer NOT to suddenly be touched or kissed. And Latin men are notoriously pushy, but this type of lack of respect happens in liberal, little Northampton, too.
d) Filling up on alcohol is always a temptation because this can make even the most unfortunate of nights a little more pleasant. But spending 6 euros ($8) on a mixed drink I could easily have made myself at home for less than half the price is not something I like to do. It's one thing to spend extra money on food in a restaurant because in that case you're paying for the skill and preparation involved. But spending so much on drinks that take a second to make just doesn't make sense.
e) (This last one is specific to clubs in Spain). Spaniards don't go out til around 2am (the hour when bars close in America) and therefore stay out til sometime between 6am and 9am. As I don't know how to sleep in at all, this means I just completely lose a night's sleep. For instance, last night I went to bed at nearly 7am and yet I woke up at 9:57am. Missing out on sleep to spend a lot of money and deal with irritating guys just isn't worth it to me. Although I've never been a huge fan of clubs, when I was in Granada a year and a half ago, I didn't seem to mind going out that much--I often liked it. Maybe it's just that I'm getting old and boring.
I had more fun yesterday during the day. Caroline and I went to Mérida, a city south of Cáceres. It's home to the most important Roman ruins in Spain and the longest Roman bridge in the world. Highlights included a. meandering around and taking annoying, tourist pictures in the very site that bloody games and gladiator fights took place back in the day and b. eating freshly-made churros and chocolate. Delishhhh.
a) Girls spend forever putting on makeup beforehand (my roommate, for instance, got ready for hours before leaving the apartment), which stresses me out because I always just put on a little eyeliner and mascara, which takes 30 seconds at most. So I always feel like I've done something wrong and that I shouldn't even be allowed to enter the club--that I haven't sacrificed enough time pruning myself and therefore I'm not worthy of entering. Maybe I should go out and invest in some blush, fountain, and lipstick, but I don't even know where I'd begin or what colors I'd choose, and the energy all this involves makes my stomach churn. What's more, other girls show up in tiny dresses, heels, and no tights or jackets. They're willing to endure sore feet and the cold for the club, while I've got heel-less boots, a nice warm jacket, and adequately covered legs. I end up feeling guilty that I get to be comfortable, just like one o' the guys (who always get to wear warm jackets and heel-less shoes), while my fellow females are likely suffering, which in turn makes it hard for me to enjoy the night.
b) The volume of the music negates the possibility of conversation. This is about as long as a conversation gets in a club: "What's your name?" "Huh?" "What's your name?" "Mariel." "Maria?" "No, Mariel." "Maria?" "Yes." "Where are you from?" "Massachusetts." "What?" "Massachusetts." "What?" "Never mind." Therefore, if you want to interact with someone, the only way you can do so is by dancing. I like dancing, and I did enjoy dancing with Caroline right when we arrived last night. No one can deny that moving to music is satisfying. But I like moving to music, not moving up against random guys. However, guys on the prowl love clubs because the inability to converse gives them an excuse to immediately start grinding with you without having to get to know you at all first. Grinding, aka people pushing their bodies together in an extremely sexual way in the middle of huge crowds of other people, is considered socially acceptable because it is categorized as dancing, although "animal mating ritual" would be a much more accurate classification than "type of dance."I personally don't feel the need to get cozy with any random guy who for all I know could have picked his nose five minutes earlier or tortured his pet rat that afternoon. People on the street don't suddenly start pressing their sweaty bodies against you (or at least this hasn't happened to me...and I hope it hasn't happened to anyone else) so why is it suddenly OK in clubs?
c) It's suddenly OK in clubs because guys have the idea that girls are there simply to pick up guys (which is most definitely true of some girls, but definitely not all, and I speak from first-hand experience). Guys must think girls are just there waiting for a nice grinding session, or worse, for a kiss. (Yes. This happened last night. I was standing at the bar, with Caroline, when out of the blue and with no warning whatsoever, a grimy guy with an unappealing mustache kissed me. He didn't give me a kiss on each cheek, as would have been slightly more culturally appropriate. No. Smack on the lips, right out of nowhere. I now I'd slapped him, but just as I never think to honk at drivers who've done something dangerous on the road, I didn't think to do anything. I was too shocked). You shouldn't have to lie that you're married (which is what I did) in order to get guys not to harass you. You shouldn't need to be married in order to not want these things to happen to you. But somehow these charming men can't seem to comprehend that a girl who isn't married or even in a relationship could actually prefer NOT to suddenly be touched or kissed. And Latin men are notoriously pushy, but this type of lack of respect happens in liberal, little Northampton, too.
d) Filling up on alcohol is always a temptation because this can make even the most unfortunate of nights a little more pleasant. But spending 6 euros ($8) on a mixed drink I could easily have made myself at home for less than half the price is not something I like to do. It's one thing to spend extra money on food in a restaurant because in that case you're paying for the skill and preparation involved. But spending so much on drinks that take a second to make just doesn't make sense.
e) (This last one is specific to clubs in Spain). Spaniards don't go out til around 2am (the hour when bars close in America) and therefore stay out til sometime between 6am and 9am. As I don't know how to sleep in at all, this means I just completely lose a night's sleep. For instance, last night I went to bed at nearly 7am and yet I woke up at 9:57am. Missing out on sleep to spend a lot of money and deal with irritating guys just isn't worth it to me. Although I've never been a huge fan of clubs, when I was in Granada a year and a half ago, I didn't seem to mind going out that much--I often liked it. Maybe it's just that I'm getting old and boring.
I had more fun yesterday during the day. Caroline and I went to Mérida, a city south of Cáceres. It's home to the most important Roman ruins in Spain and the longest Roman bridge in the world. Highlights included a. meandering around and taking annoying, tourist pictures in the very site that bloody games and gladiator fights took place back in the day and b. eating freshly-made churros and chocolate. Delishhhh.
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| Roman Theater |
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