13 Dec 2011

Confessions Part III

Like any hot-blooded young(ish) Malaysian woman on an adventure to Spain would have hoped for, I too anticipated meeting a few gorgeous Spanish men, who may have a liking towards curvaceous  Malaysian Indian women who travelled across the globe to learn their mother tongue. I was pretty happy with the prospect of hanging out with a guapo (good looking) Spanish fella with dark brown eyes and spiky hair with a gorgeous smile at one of the bars in Sevilla - talking about cultural similarities while sipping some sangria. Somehow in my mind I would have been able to bypass any cultural and linguistic barriers and have a stimulating, sexy conversation. 

I obviously had a lot to learn. 

The reason why I did not share anything about the hot guys in Spain is because...the guys (if you can call them that) I met on my trip were not exactly anywhere on the hot scale. In fact if there was a scale to put them on, it would be the mature scale. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I got a whole lot of attention from old men.

While I was busy taking in the sights (in more ways than one), I was approached by numerous men on the street, who candidly confessed that they thought I was beautiful. Now it would have been a dream come true for me, if not for the fact that these men could have been my grandfather. And I don't mean men in their early 50's on a mid-life crisis, these men who talked to me were white-haired gentlemen who walked at a snail's pace. 

"Hola!," said Old Man A while I carefully avoided the Metro in the commercial street in Sevilla. De donde eres? I understood that he wanted to know where I was from. Deep inside I knew that it was also a pick up line, but happy to be practising my Spanish with a local, I crossed the borders and attempted to talk. I told him I only know a little Spanish, he asked me what I thought of Sevilla. Then he asked the dreaded question - would you like to go for a walk? I declined and was about to walk away when he added - Tu es muy guapa (You are pretty). I thanked him and walked, as fast as I could.

Not that that there were no guys who looked my way, but alas it was mostly just that - looking. I suppose the fact that my Spanish was basic and most Sevillians did not speak English also made a difference. The guy working at the Vodafone outlet was pretty hot and I called out my name so sweetly. ;) But other than that, the  I remember Old Man B trailing me in Barcelona and striking up a conversation. He asked me what I thought of Barcelona and when I said it was beautiful he leaned in and said Y tu tambien (And so are you) and proceeded to ask me if I would like to have coffee. If only the question was asked by a younger, non-Santa lookalike, I would have been happy to have that cuppa.

That's my little man-ly adventures in Espana...a little sad but true. Ah well, at least I will always have the memories of Vodafone guy. :)

This photo of footballer Ikas Casillas represents Vodafone guy who looks very similar!

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