Learning Spanish Will Not Help You Get Laid in Latin America

 

While travelling throughout Latin America, I encountered men who were sexually frustrated. I'd even meet them in countries where it is stunningly easy to get laid. Nine times of out ten, my fellow globetrotters would blame their lack of success with women on their inability to speak Spanish. I'd listen to their excuses and nod politely. But experience had taught me that they were dead wrong, and that one's level of Spanish actually has very little to do with getting laid in Latin America. I didn't bother to correct them. I didn't want to seem arrogant by arguing that sex was easy to come by.

 

Besides, if their failures with women encouraged them to pick up a new language, all the better.

 

It's easy to think that communicating effectively is an integral part of seducing Latin women and -- true enough -- to some women it is rather important. However, the girls that are likely to place a lot of stock in having a meaningful conversation with you right after meeting probably aren't the same ones that are going to give it up on the first date.

 

My first experience with Spanish-speaking gals came when I was about 18 years old. I was at a resort in Cabo San Lucas with my family for a week-long vacation. One evening, I couldn't sleep so I was sitting alone in a gazebo watching the ocean. After about five minutes, I was approached by a Mexican guy and girl around my age. The guy asked me, in Spanish, if I spoke Spanish. I told him no (my Spanish was so weak that I wasn't even entirely sure what he was asking). The guy started speaking in English:

 

"Our friend over there," he said, motioning towards another gazebo. "She likes you but is really shy. We want to play a joke on her. Can you come over for a photo and kiss her on the cheek when I take the picture?"

 

Being as it was my first time in Latin America, I thought that this was an odd request (I'd later find out that shit like this is all too common). But, I decided to do it anyway. I sat right beside her, put my arm around her and kissed her on the cheek, like a good little boy should. Her friends howled with laughter and she was beyond embarrassed, but seemed pleased nonetheless.

 

Unfortunately, I was a pussy back then so I left shortly after and went to my room.

 

I didn't think about the story until years later when I was back in Mexico for a solo trip. My Spanish wasn't much better, and I was in the interior of the country where not as many people speak English. Initially, I wasn't too bent on meeting women, but I connected with some guys at my hostel and we started to hit some bars. The first few nights were fruitful. Even though none of us were proficient in Spanish, we found that if we gave off a fun vibe and acted positive, people would gravitate to us. Girls and guys were constantly asking us where we were from, buying us drinks and inviting us to house parties. More than once, Mexican guys even played wingman and helped me hook-up with their friends.

 

Most nights would end -- at the very least -- with a make out session or a few girls' phone numbers...all this without knowing any Spanish. My initial success reminded me of that night in the resort in Cabo San Lucas; I was connecting with girls without having to put in the slightest bit of effort.

 

Eventually, it was time to move on to another city. I said goodbye to my new hostel friends and headed south to Queretaro. I don't usually like to go to bars alone, so I kept my nights out to a minimum. When I did go out, however, I noticed a stark difference. Being alone in a bar in Mexico (unless it's a cantina) is akin to social suicide. I was basically ignored. Because I wasn't concerned about meeting women it didn't really bother me, but I did notice it. That being said, I would still approach a girl if she was giving me serious indicators of interest and wasn't too ghastly.

 

And guess what?

 

I was always surprised at my level of success. It was much greater than in my home country.

 

I returned to Canada a happy and confident man.

 

Fast forward a few more years.

 

I was back in Mexico after having been all around Latin America, and after having studied Spanish on and off in my home country for about 14 months. I met a guy in my hostel who'd been studying Spanish for only one month, but was obviously keen to meet women. I'lll call him Tom. I was anxious to apply the language skills I'd learned, so I figured I'd show Tom the ropes and take him out for a night on the town.

 

After opening a few different sets of girls, I began to notice something.

 

They were almost all more interested in Tom than me.

 

Oftentimes, I even found my role delegated to the status of a shitty translator between Tom and Mexican girls; a kind of periphery figure that was an essential but undesired part of the conversation. This wasn't because Tom was necessarily better looking or more charming than I was, it was because he came across as more exotic and therefore more interesting.

 

Allow me to explain.

 

First of all, Tom was from New Zealand. As far as tourists in Mexico go, you don't get much more unique than that. I, on the other hand, am from Canada. You basically can't throw a stone without hitting a Canadian in Mexico. We're almost as common as Americans. Second of all, Tom had long bright blonde hair that made him stand out almost humourously among a sea of black and dark brown crewcuts.

 

I, on the other hand, can pass for a whiter-looking Mexican. I look like the guy from Entourage.

 

Once girls found out where I was from and how I learned Spanish, their intrigue evaporated. Whereas Tom, well, Tom was a puzzle that they wanted to solve.

 

I also had another factor working against me: because I could speak a bit of Spanish, I was held to a much higher conversation standard than Tom. Upon being asked what he was doing in Mexico, Tom could get away with a simple "vacaciones" and leave the girls smiling and satisfied. 

 

Not me.

 

I had to deal with follow-up questions. "What are you doing in Mexico? How come you speak Spanish? Isn't one month a little long for a vacation? What do you do for work? Because I knew some Spanish, I had to validate my social status and pass many more shit tests than Tom. Things got worse when we ran into a girl who spoke English. When I spoke Spanish to her, she'd tell me she couldn't understand and say "just speak in English." She was a typical haughty fresa (rich girl) and was only talking to Tom in order to show off her language skills gained through her expensive foreign education.

 

I made a signal to Tom, making sure he was OK by himself, and went off to lone wolf it at another bar.

 

That night, I learned a little something about diminishing returns. I thought that increasing my Spanish language skills alone would improve my success rate with girls.

 

I was wrong.

 

I failed to acknowledge the number one rule for building attraction: don't be boring.

 

I worked on my Spanish, but I didn't work on my game or personality development so my productivity with women actually decreased. To the girls, Tom was unique looking and the shiny new toy.

 

And I was just another boring gringo who'd spent too much time in Mexico.

 

The way I see it, Spanish is like a wizard's wand or a twelve inch dick: useless unless you know how to use it. If you have trouble getting laid in your own country, you'll probably have trouble in Latin America. Simple as that. Work on becoming a better man before you work on your language skills.

 

Because an interesting man is powerful enough to transcend all cultural differences and language barriers.

 

Also, never be afraid to go to the bar alone. More on that in another post.

 

Related post: How A Complete Idiot (Me) Learned Conversational Spanish And How You Can Too

 

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