Probably not surprising that the question I’m being asked most by my (male) friends back home is: So how are the Argentinian women?
The simple answer would be: Stunning.
The more complex answer would be: Stunning, but…
Yes, they are gorgeous. I spend any day walking around town just agog at the talent walking by. I’m reminded a little of my time living in Sweden many years ago, sitting at a street cafe a sunny, summer’s day with a couple of visiting mates from Canada. One of us (none of us can recall who, but we were obviously all thinking it) turned to the other two and asked: Do they kill all the ugly ones at birth?
Now in all honesty the Buenos Aires women probably don’t quite match up to the Swedish women. However they’re not far behind, and the bonus here is that you have this melting pot or mixture of Italian blood with Latin blood. And when that mixture hits the mark, well it really, really hits the mark in dark, brooding, pouting… you get the drift.
Add to that the clothing they wear, in winter it’s all skin tight jeans with knee high “fuck me” boots (can’t wait for summer!), and you may get an idea of why I walk around the city with a perma-semi-wood.
Argentinian women – or to be more precise, Buenos Aires “porteñas” – are absolutely, incredibly crazy. And I don’t just mean crazy in a “cute”, quirky, slightly out of the ordinary & interesting way. No, I mean the crazy as in, “What the hell is up with that girl?” way. There simply is no way you will ever know what a local woman is really thinking, nor what she really wants. You just have to accept that and go with it.
They even have a specific local term for it – “hysteria” – which the local man use for just this characteristic in the local women.
Does she like you? You’ll never know. One night she’ll be all over you, the next acting like you’re the last person on earth she wants to be with. You’ll leave the bar that night expecting to say goodnight and head home alone, the next she says she wants to come home with you. But the next morning it’s back to being disinterested, but a week or so later it’s all excited emails again about going away for a weekend. I’ve heard versions of this story along a similar vein from too many for there not to be some kind of common trait.
And jealousy? It’s in their DNA.
Many foreigners I have met here have learned their lesson and are now dating women from other South American countries. For their own sanity.
They’re so damn gorgeous. Oh, and a little insight from a Colombian female friend* of mine: They like anal sex too.
So I’ve been told. Don’t shoot the messenger.
Now I bet that’s not quite the ending to this blog post you were expecting is it?
(* Another little insight from my Colombian friend: Apparently in Colombia it’s quite popular for groups of university students to have weekend long orgies together with plates of dope, cocaine and God knows what else lying about for the participants’ added enjoyment. Damn, I wish I’d known this before I headed off to backpack through Europe at 24! All of a sudden topless Swedish girls frolicking through the Greek islands doesn’t seem quite as exciting as I once thought. Although…)