Tijuana
I spent a few nights in Tijuana, getting used to being back in Mexico. I've traveled in the country before, but have never spent any time in Tijuana. It was often very easy to forget that I was only a 15 minute walk to the border, since it feels so different than the US, especially if you get away from the main tourist drag. I've been getting plenty of Spanish practice, and have also been enjoying lots of good Mexican food.
The first afternoon in town, I was wandering down the touristy strip, being amused/annoyed by all the people trying to entice me into their bar, restaurant, shop, massage parlor, etc. Some of the guys, especially for the strip clubs and bars are quite aggressive, yelling from the other side of the street, and doing just about anything to try to attract your attention. I soon stopped replying in English, using only Spanish, and was amused to then hear them try to guess where I was from, occasionally trying various other languages. One pair of guys came to the conclusion I was either from Russia or Italy.
At one point, I passed by a bar on another street with several employees hanging out near the door, and was surprised they didn't try the now familiar ploys to try to get me inside, not even on my return trip back past the same place. Intrigued, and feeling like a cerveza to celebrate my arrival in Mexico, I decided to check it out, and pushed my way through the heavy velvet curtain across the door. Surprised to see so many women inside, maybe 30 to the 10 men or so, I made my way to the bar and ordered a beer. Less than 15 seconds later the stool next to mine was occupied by a young woman, who in broken but explicit English started describing what she would do to me, and/or allow me to do to her for $50 US. That explained while all the women were in this "bar," which I know realized was a brothel. I declined the offer, and again, and again, and again, as other women cycled through the bar stool next to me as I finished my beer. If nothing else, I picked up some interesting new Spanish vocabulary, once I started talking to them in Spanish.
In fact, I found Tijuana a difficult place to try to enjoy a drink in peace. Another evening I went into a tourist bar to drink a $1 beer or two, thinking I'd catch up on my journal. But before even having a chance to pull the journal out, I made the mistake of smiling at a couple of cute women a bit further down the bar. After a brief heads-together conference, they waved me over, and I quickly found myself sandwiched between them at the bar. In an oddly fragmented, wide-ranging, three-way conversation, I learned that they were 20 years old, from San Diego, and they were "sort of" girlfriends, but also liked guys. They apparently came to Tijuana once a weekend or so, to take advantage of the lower drinking age of 18. Next thing I knew, we were having a round of tequila shots, and they invited me to join them at a club down the street. So I ended up falling even further behind with my journal. Life is rough sometimes.
I also checked out a couple of museums, and enjoyed a quieter evening in a small bar/restaurant tucked away in a quiet residential area, listening to live music, reading through a local arts publication, and chatting with a couple of locals. On my way back, I spotted a "zebra" (one of the painted burros) tied up all alone in an alley behind my hotel, backlit by a large, red neon star from one of the clubs. Oh, and I ended up attending a Lucha Libre event (wrestling match) one afternoon on a whim, finding it extremely ridiculous, but enjoying watching the crowd get into it. I think my time in Mexico is going to be interesting.
The first afternoon in town, I was wandering down the touristy strip, being amused/annoyed by all the people trying to entice me into their bar, restaurant, shop, massage parlor, etc. Some of the guys, especially for the strip clubs and bars are quite aggressive, yelling from the other side of the street, and doing just about anything to try to attract your attention. I soon stopped replying in English, using only Spanish, and was amused to then hear them try to guess where I was from, occasionally trying various other languages. One pair of guys came to the conclusion I was either from Russia or Italy.
At one point, I passed by a bar on another street with several employees hanging out near the door, and was surprised they didn't try the now familiar ploys to try to get me inside, not even on my return trip back past the same place. Intrigued, and feeling like a cerveza to celebrate my arrival in Mexico, I decided to check it out, and pushed my way through the heavy velvet curtain across the door. Surprised to see so many women inside, maybe 30 to the 10 men or so, I made my way to the bar and ordered a beer. Less than 15 seconds later the stool next to mine was occupied by a young woman, who in broken but explicit English started describing what she would do to me, and/or allow me to do to her for $50 US. That explained while all the women were in this "bar," which I know realized was a brothel. I declined the offer, and again, and again, and again, as other women cycled through the bar stool next to me as I finished my beer. If nothing else, I picked up some interesting new Spanish vocabulary, once I started talking to them in Spanish.
In fact, I found Tijuana a difficult place to try to enjoy a drink in peace. Another evening I went into a tourist bar to drink a $1 beer or two, thinking I'd catch up on my journal. But before even having a chance to pull the journal out, I made the mistake of smiling at a couple of cute women a bit further down the bar. After a brief heads-together conference, they waved me over, and I quickly found myself sandwiched between them at the bar. In an oddly fragmented, wide-ranging, three-way conversation, I learned that they were 20 years old, from San Diego, and they were "sort of" girlfriends, but also liked guys. They apparently came to Tijuana once a weekend or so, to take advantage of the lower drinking age of 18. Next thing I knew, we were having a round of tequila shots, and they invited me to join them at a club down the street. So I ended up falling even further behind with my journal. Life is rough sometimes.
I also checked out a couple of museums, and enjoyed a quieter evening in a small bar/restaurant tucked away in a quiet residential area, listening to live music, reading through a local arts publication, and chatting with a couple of locals. On my way back, I spotted a "zebra" (one of the painted burros) tied up all alone in an alley behind my hotel, backlit by a large, red neon star from one of the clubs. Oh, and I ended up attending a Lucha Libre event (wrestling match) one afternoon on a whim, finding it extremely ridiculous, but enjoying watching the crowd get into it. I think my time in Mexico is going to be interesting.
posted by Matt at 20:37
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