Oh Latin America, You Never Fail to Impress Me

Thank you, God, for the endless supply of blog material that you have granted me. There are lots of things about my life that I don´t like, but there is one thing I do like: it is not boring. Not a day goes by in which something blogworthy does not happen.

For example, last night a Chilean man approached me and asked me how much I cost. As offended as I was by this proposal, I admit that afterwards I looked to the heavens and said, ¨Thank you, God, for allowing that blog opportunity to fall into my lap.¨ Here´s what happened:

Arelys, one of the girls in the Stanford program, invited me last night to go on a double date with some carabineros (policemen), which was an offer I absolutely could not refuse. Policemen in the U.S. are one thing; carabineros are a whole other animal. Chilean policemen, although nowadays the most professional and respected police in Latin America, have a history of brutal violence under the Pinochet regime (1973-1988). Under the military regime, carabineros carried out mass violence (kidnappings and murders of alleged leftist sympathizers) and were generally feared by the people. Given that history, the concept of going out with carabineros was intriguing for me. The details are uninteresting, but the carabineros were nice guys and we had a good time. But that´s beside the point.

The point is that, while waiting to meet the carabineros, Arelys and I were asked how much we cost. We were sitting at a bench in Plaza de Armas, which is pretty dangerous at night. It is a hotbed for homeless people, bums, prostitutes, and Peruanos (which, according to my racist host mom, are bad news). I knew the place was notorious, so I got out my knife (I always carry a knife and pepper spray) and kept it in my hand just in case. I never thought I would actually flash it at someone, but divine providence was with me and granted me the opportunity to do so. Some sleaze came up to us, sat down on the bench, and in Spanish asked us, ¨How much do you cost?¨At first I was rendered speechless, but I soon overcame my loss for words and responded, ¨Get away!¨as I flashed my knife at him. The dumbass didn´t move and just repeated the question. Again I showed him my knife and told him to get away, and he finally got the picture. As he walked away I called ¨son of a bitch¨after him, just for good measure. I probably seemed pissed off, but the truth was that inside I was laughing my ass off and already beginning to write my blog entry in my head.

I am glad I accepted Arelys´invitation. I got to go out with some carabineros and I was solicited for sex. What a great night!