Las Discotecas

Last night I ventured into the more central downtown area to go to some clubs. Apparently you can get in for free if you bring enough people with you, so I was quickly absorbed into a group of Brazilians headed for a club called La Bruja (the Witch). It seemed like this club had mostly Europeans, but not too many Spaniards, but really, how am I to know? They played some hip hop which was all remixed to sound more like techno. They also played a lot of reggaeton--which was great for me because I knew all of the songs. The only problem is that Europeans dance... differently. I couldn't dance to house music to save my life, and so I suppose I felt better watching everyone else struggle to figure out how to dance to hip hop and reggaeton. It's like they forgot they have hips unless they're moving along one squiggly line of movement from the head down to the feet--like an electrified spaghetti noodle.

On my walk home I passed another club, much closer to my hostel that looked like it could have been Larry's or Cabella's from home. Though now that I think about it, both of those clubs were shut down for violence. There was a huge line outside of muscled guys trying their best to look New York thug. Matching baseball caps to shirts and shoes... chains... it was funny because if I had just been passing I might have thought they were Americans, but I had to look and there was always something just a little bit off. Like lots of extra zippers on every inch of the low-slung denim shorts...

I stopped at a little store in the small plaza on the way home that was still open and searched for something I could eat. I finally settled on empanadas de atun (tuna), which were remarkably delicious for what equates to gas station food. Then I headed home for bed.

But, as I promised in my previous post, my day started at four pm and ended at four am...