As always I come away for a few months with the best of intentions: read a lot (all in Spanish), eat healthily, exercise... The list goes on. So this time round, things are no different and I hunted out a gym to join. I also figured it is a good way to feel a bit more settled here, as it will help me have a routine. Luckily, I found two other volunteers who had the same intentions, so last week the three of us went to find "Lucho Fitness".
The man on the front desk of the gym was a character, to say the least. One of my new gym buddies is an English girl called Ranj, her parents are both Indian. Walking down the street on my own here is quite an experience, but with her it is another level! They are fascinated by her, and the stares and comments multiply by ten (which is really saying something!) I have seen people discuss Indian politics with her, ask her about what life is like on the isla India... it goes on and on. So, the man on the front desk was no different. In fact, he was probably the worst. He was so disgusting I felt like stepping in front of Ranj to protect her from his leering stare!
As there was three of us we got a discount to join. We handed over our money, and the guy gave us a receipt. No card, nothing went into the computer, just a receipt. I asked him was he going to put our names into the system or anything, but he informed me with a creepy grin that he would remember us so not to worry! As we were leaving a small group of men had gathered by the desk, and were asking the guy where we were from, what we were doing etc etc. So we were pretty sure that when we next came we would be the entertainment!
The temperatures hits about 36 degrees on a daily basis here, and the gym has no air conditioning, only ceiling fans. This means it is difficult to know if you are bright red and sweating because you are working really hard, or simply because as soon as you do anything more than sit still here you feel hotter! Despite all this, we decided our first class would be spinning. We got there early to sit under the fans, and the class went pretty well. But, the instructor took it upon himself to strike up conversations with each of us in turn, at the hardest parts of the class. "So, where are you from? Why are you here? Lovely eyes, good Spanish etc etc" while the rest of the class carried on. Hopefully the longer we stay, the less of a novelty we become!
The next day saw us decide a rumba class was a good idea. This is a dance class, in the country that gave us Shakira. Even the little kids on the street start moving when a beat starts up here... In short, we looked like idiots. But, the people are so nice here, and so interested, that even though we had no idea how to do it, we didn't feel that ridiculous. We decided that we would keep going to the class until we could actually do it.
I might have to change my flight and stay longer...
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