Can I have your number? Can I have it?

Disclaimer: This blog post is based on observation of the men in San Vicente, Manabí, Ecuador and is in no way representative of the entire Ecuadorian male population.

Disclaimer: The above statement was made to be politically correct and not because the blogger believes it to be true.

If I could describe Ecuadorian men in one word it would be: opportunistic. I think the word opportunistic is most appropriate because of the Ecuadorian male’s unique way of taking any situation and turning it in to an opportunity to (in no particular order):

- strike up a conversation
- get your number, or
- ask for your hand in marriage.

The way men here approach women was a major culture shock issue for me. I found that there was no situation deemed inappropriate for flirting, even if you were not flirting back. I decided to write a manual, for those who may actually be seeking this type of attention, of some strategies I have found to be foolproof in terms of attracting male attention in this country.

How to Get an Ecuadorian Man to Hit on You*

1) Make eye contact, either purposefully or accidentally
2) Breathe

The great things about these strategies do not have to be used together; they are both equal in effectiveness meaning there will be no problem if you choose one or the other. And if you decide to use them simultaneously, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

For example, if I go to the store to buy avocados, it would not be unusual for a fellow (male) grocery shopper to say, “Hello! I see you like avocados. Can I have your number?” One time I was walking through the market when I made eye contact with an older male store owner. I smiled as I was passing by and he blurted out, “MARRY ME!! TAKE ME WITH YOU TO THE STATES!!” I just giggled and as I walked away his voice followed me around the corner: “I´LL PAY FOR EVERYTHIIIIIIING…!!”

Once the men in my site realized that I wasn’t about to marry anyone and that I would be more likely to follow a parade of lemmings off of a cliff than fall for the avocado line, they got more creative. I don’t know if they have just started to say this to me, or if they have been saying it all along and I just started to notice, but their new favorite pick-up line is, are you ready for this? “Don’t fall off of your bike!” This is usually followed by a seductive stare and an elbow jab to a nearby buddy.

I know what you’re thinking: “Eik, you’re hot and everything, and I know you just got those new braids, but, is there a particular reason (besides your bomb hair) that the men there are all ´bout it bout it´”? Yes. As you can probably imagine, many Ecuadorian men look at women from the U.S. and see green. Card, that is. Well, they think we are loaded too. But mostly, they look at the United States and see a plethora of opportunities in a booming economy and minimal chances of failure. Becoming romantically involved with a gringa is the first step toward that plane ticket. Well, that and they think we’re super hot.

About 8 weeks ago I had a cockroach trapped under a cup in my bathroom for a month. Stay with me; this is important to the rest of the story. If it would have showed up in any other room of my apartment I would have off´ed it in a second (ie: stand 4 or more ft. away and spray enough poison in its general direction to kill a medium-sized farm animal), but the raised entrance to my bathroom creates a pit much like the one in Gladiator. This turns a task as simple as killing an insect, lizard etc. in to something more like a fight to the death. So, I did what any other perfectly sane person would do: I named the cockroach Carlson and trapped it under a cup. I trapped the roach under a cup because it was too big to kill and I honestly thought that after a couple days it would give up and die. Silly me. If I had to choose one thing to share with you from this experience, one thing that you must never forget as long as you are on this earth, it would have to be this: cockroaches never die. When my PCV friend told me she was coming to visit me for the weekend I felt compelled to get rid of the cockroach for fear of having to explain why I was too much of a spaz to just kill it. I found a piece of cardboard, grabbed the glass and went to work.


Present Day:
Just playin this was like three weeks ago. So I am holding my little cockroach between a cup and a piece of cardboard. As I walked out of the door you could just feel roach’s nervous energy as its time in captivity was coming to an end. He looked at me with eyes that said both “thank-you” and “I’ll be back.” I walked about three blocks away from my apartment (thought about making it a mile, but that would have just been silly) to assure that when, not if, the cockroach decided to seek its revenge, it would have a hard time locating me. I set the cup on the ground and assumed a position that would remind you a lot of a relay sprinter waiting for a hand off. I had to release the cockroach and get the heck out of there. I lifted the cup and took off. I got about 3 strides away when I heard a male voice. “Whatchya got there?”

I thought about just pretending I hadn’t heard him and continuing to run home, but realized that to the untrained eye I was pushing thirteen on a crazy person scale to ten and I needed a chance to redeem myself. I coolly headed back to the site of the cockroach release and smiled at the man that was walking towards me. I was surprised to see the cockroach still in the exact spot that I had left it, clearly overwhelmed by its first taste of freedom.

“Oh this? Ha ha, its just a little cockroach that I found this morning.”

The man, tall, dark, and probably in his late 20´s, looked down at the still gigantic roach despite the fact that it hadn’t eaten in a month.

“You have to kill that you know.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, liking this guy already.

“That type of cockroach bites causing all of your skin to fall off.”

Ok, I’m sure that was a little dramatic, but any enemy of the cockroach is a friend of mine. The man extended his leg and smashed Carlson with the heel of his shoe. The irony of the last 4 minutes of the insect’s life made me think of Atlanis Morisette.

“So, where are you from?”

“The United States.”

“Really? That’s cool, where do you live?”

Oh, this guy was smooth. First he kills my cockroach (one of the best pick-up techniques I’ve seen to date) then he slips in the typical conversation starter. Usually, by the time I am this far into the conversation with an Ecuadorian man, a miniature Britney Spears appears on my left shoulder and starts to sing “womanizer” into my ear. But not this time. No, this guy was so good, Brtiney didn’t even see him coming. Before I knew it, we were in front of my house having a glass of water.

“Hey so, do you have a phone? Think I could get your number?”

I waited for Britney to tell him off, but she just looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and said, “well?”

A year ago I would have just looked at the ground, mumbled something about my phone only being for government use and backed away. But now I just sat there. Could he have my number…?

I snapped back to reality.

“Oh, well…my phone…uh…doesn’t really, work. Right now.”**

“Oh, alright. Well, maybe I’ll see you later then.”

“Sure.”

My friend started to walk away and I walked in to my house. Sure? Who the heck was I?

So, what’s the point? Why the long, drawn out story about cockroaches and your weird relationship with Britney Spears? The point is that although the men here have a method of picking up women that is, er...simple, it has a way of wearing on you. So Mom, don’t be too surprised if I come home with more than a nice tan and a recipe for fried fish.

Just kidding.

Sort of.



* Available in stores late August 2011

** Why don´t you just give out your number?  The problem with giving your number to Ecuadorian men is that, unlike men in the States, they will call.  And call.  And then call again.  So if you are going to give out your number, you better be sure it´s to somebody that you want to talk to.