What would Latin America be if you couldn't get catcalls every 100 yards? Not Latin America, that's for sure.
I knew one girl who did a research project on catcalls, or piropos, in Cuba, and the women there told her that they were disappointed on days they didn't get catcalls and usually resolved to put more effort into their public presentation the next time they went out. It's a shame catcalls have mostly negative connotations in the states, because it's a cute game for the most part. Not anything to put a lot of stake in, but some good fun all the same.
Pretty much any gringa gets attention here simply because the fair skin is the rarer foreign trait, and I smile thinking how Norwegian qualities are thus turned into something exotic. That being said, I felt the most uncomfortable in La Paz when it was clear they were hitting on me because I was white, the whiteness being the desirable beauty trait, especially in a country so painfully aware of its skin colors and races and the vestigal colonial value of white over dark. To get a lecherous, even if ultimately benign, sucking-in of a hiss calling attention to your skin's lack of pigment every afternoon on the street was not flattering.
Thankfully, the skin color gradient is more varied here in Costa Rica, so I don't stand out as much, and even less so if I keep my sunglasses on. Whereas I honestly can't think of a memorable line I got in La Paz (or at least memorable in the good way) – although the Cochabamba buses did have these funny loud catcall whistle-replicating horn they would frequently let wail – it's a much more amusing game here.
By far, the most common pickup lines you get are lots of awkward Spanglish sayings, "Hi, beautiful lady. Goodbye." Sometimes they directly translate favorite Tico terms, and you get a "Hello, my queen." But others have stood out, for the simple fact that these are the ones that got me to turn around:
Least Sleazy, Somehow
One afternoon, I had a lanky middle-aged guy with one of those perpetually concave torsos in a button-down shirt, grin, cock his hand in pistol fashion to point at me, then pull it up to his ear in a telephone gesture, and follow with a wink.
Most Confusing
One morning as I was walking downtown on the main pedestrian thoroughfare, as I passed this one guy, he leaned in ever-so-slightly, and gave this completely asexual "meow," as if he were really trying to accurately imitate a feline.
Most Terrifying
It was the same type of lean-in move as above, except this time there were two guys walking together, and right when they were a couple feet in front of me, they suddenly split to either side of me, leaned in and gave low, throaty "ojos" in unison.
Most Unnecessary Double Standard
OK, so this wasn't a piropo, per se, but one time when I was wearing one of my better sundresses, I passed an elderly lady who had a very concerned look as she surveyed my legs. Once we passed each other and I guessed we were about five yards apart, I turned around and found her still looking at my lower half as she walked away with a HUGE SCOWL ACROSS HER FACE, one that involved all her eyebrow, forehead, and mouth muscles. And I just thought, really, amid all the other flesh that's shoved and smashed into tops four sizes too small, you're going to bother to judge me? At least my dress fits ...
Best Attention to an Editorial Assistant's Sensibilities
On my way to work, a guy resting up against a car hood a few meters away says, in stilted English, "I really enjoy looking at you this morning," and the only thing I could think was, "Wow, I just got hit on in a complete sentence!"
I knew one girl who did a research project on catcalls, or piropos, in Cuba, and the women there told her that they were disappointed on days they didn't get catcalls and usually resolved to put more effort into their public presentation the next time they went out. It's a shame catcalls have mostly negative connotations in the states, because it's a cute game for the most part. Not anything to put a lot of stake in, but some good fun all the same.
Pretty much any gringa gets attention here simply because the fair skin is the rarer foreign trait, and I smile thinking how Norwegian qualities are thus turned into something exotic. That being said, I felt the most uncomfortable in La Paz when it was clear they were hitting on me because I was white, the whiteness being the desirable beauty trait, especially in a country so painfully aware of its skin colors and races and the vestigal colonial value of white over dark. To get a lecherous, even if ultimately benign, sucking-in of a hiss calling attention to your skin's lack of pigment every afternoon on the street was not flattering.
Thankfully, the skin color gradient is more varied here in Costa Rica, so I don't stand out as much, and even less so if I keep my sunglasses on. Whereas I honestly can't think of a memorable line I got in La Paz (or at least memorable in the good way) – although the Cochabamba buses did have these funny loud catcall whistle-replicating horn they would frequently let wail – it's a much more amusing game here.
By far, the most common pickup lines you get are lots of awkward Spanglish sayings, "Hi, beautiful lady. Goodbye." Sometimes they directly translate favorite Tico terms, and you get a "Hello, my queen." But others have stood out, for the simple fact that these are the ones that got me to turn around:
Least Sleazy, Somehow
One afternoon, I had a lanky middle-aged guy with one of those perpetually concave torsos in a button-down shirt, grin, cock his hand in pistol fashion to point at me, then pull it up to his ear in a telephone gesture, and follow with a wink.
Most Confusing
One morning as I was walking downtown on the main pedestrian thoroughfare, as I passed this one guy, he leaned in ever-so-slightly, and gave this completely asexual "meow," as if he were really trying to accurately imitate a feline.
Most Terrifying
It was the same type of lean-in move as above, except this time there were two guys walking together, and right when they were a couple feet in front of me, they suddenly split to either side of me, leaned in and gave low, throaty "ojos" in unison.
Most Unnecessary Double Standard
OK, so this wasn't a piropo, per se, but one time when I was wearing one of my better sundresses, I passed an elderly lady who had a very concerned look as she surveyed my legs. Once we passed each other and I guessed we were about five yards apart, I turned around and found her still looking at my lower half as she walked away with a HUGE SCOWL ACROSS HER FACE, one that involved all her eyebrow, forehead, and mouth muscles. And I just thought, really, amid all the other flesh that's shoved and smashed into tops four sizes too small, you're going to bother to judge me? At least my dress fits ...
Best Attention to an Editorial Assistant's Sensibilities
On my way to work, a guy resting up against a car hood a few meters away says, in stilted English, "I really enjoy looking at you this morning," and the only thing I could think was, "Wow, I just got hit on in a complete sentence!"
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