The International Supermodel

For fear that I am going to come across as an egomaniacal, stuck up bitch, I must start out this post by saying I really don't get it. I am not a hottie, a babe or any other type of girl who generally attracts male attention. Actually, I can't even get a date. In this country at least. But for some reason unbeknownst to me, I have discovered that I am actually a supermodel in non-English speaking countries. I don't know why or how but it is true.

This phenomenon first came to our attention on our first visit to Mexico in January 2002. My family and I were shopping in a little town call Costa Maya. Here, we encountered that typical "flea market" atmosphere. Venders calling to you, trying to get you into their tent, the incessant bargaining and all that entails. I was kind of wandering aimlessly taking it all in when vendors started offering me things for free. I thought this was a little strange but dismissed it. A few minutes later, my sister Eboogie was pulled aside by another vendor.

Vendor: "Are you here with that girl?" (pointing to me, lingering about 20 feet away)
Eboogie: "Yeah, she is my sister."
Vendor: "Well stay here and talk to me. Maybe she will come over if she sees you talking to me."

It happened again three separate times in Paris in 2004. The first incident was at a restaurant where we were having dinner. The waiter brought me a free glass of orange juice and a free plate of French fries. This may not seem like a big deal. But in Paris where a "Coca Light" cost as much as a bottle of wine here, orange juice is like gold. Here I am with suitor #2, Gail B and T-Bone. Notice the glass of juice on the table.


I caused a ruckus at dinner the following night as well. I have to take eyewitness accounts of what happened as my back was to the action. Apparently I was causing traffic jam as the busboy nearly walked into another waiter and dropped his tray as he was staring at me. He later came over and started whispering sweet nothings in my ear. For reference, they do sound much better in French.

My last Parisian man was a little scarier of an encounter. He came over to Eboogie and me in the Metro station and started spouting off poetry about how beautiful my eyes were. Again this was in French and my limited understanding could only pick up ever other word. When the train came, we got on quickly and moved to another car. He followed. I had my first official stalker as a supermodel. We got off at the next stop and waited there for a different train.

While planning our most recent trip to Mexico, the teasing about my supermodel status began. I didn't buy into all of the hoopla but my indifference was for naught. I was still as highly sought out as ever.

We took a shore excursion in Puerto Vallarta where we rode mules to the top of the mountain, zip lined across 250 drops and repelled down 80 foot waterfalls. We were wearing helmets and were covered head to toe with Mexican jungle water and mud. I was also covered with mosquito bites (In an ironic coincidence, mosquitoes at home rarely bite me. Even the Mexican mosquitoes find me more attractive then the ones here.)

There was no looking cute.

Despite this, I managed to pick up yet another forgein man without trying. By the end of our trip, one of our guides had given me some sort of cute Spanish nickname, proposed to me and had gotten himself invited to my sister's wedding. When we returned from our jungle adventure, he promptly picked me up and tried to run away with me. Literally. Here is the proof:

I am not really sure what the reason is for all of this international attention. We do attribute it to the language barrier as I was not quite so hot in Ireland or the UK. But, for whatever reason, the normal girl who can't get a date in the US is a bonafide hottie elsewhere.

Perhaps this is why I like traveling so much?