Dyke Nightlife Diaries: The Trick Lesbian Pub In Bogotá’s Gay Superclub

Clare Give
is actually a self-described flaming London lesbian. She actually is invested the very last 12 months currently talking about
queer ladies nightlife
within her town. She documents the atmosphere, songs, styles, feeling (will you get laid or make new friends?), and the ones behind the evenings.

Clare
decided which won’t be directly to only report dyke night life in one single area, thus she stuffed the woman handbags and strike the street. She’s written about the thriving views in
Nyc
,
Bay Area
, Bogota, São Paulo, Berlin, and Dublin so far; this number will keep increasing. Keep an eye on the woman
Dyke Nightlife Diaries
right here.

Night One

To begin with i actually do once I can a new city is actually Google my option to my personal peeps—”Queer taverns in…,” “Lesbian pubs in…,” “Gay bars in… .” Bogotá’s outcomes had been promising, with a lesbian nightclub also known as Moza and a number of homosexual bars—mainly from inside the city’s brand-new busy cultural center, Chapinero.

On Friday evening, my personal girl and that I whizzed anywhere in some yellowish cab to Moza. We pulled upwards, strode out, and found that Moza was no longer. It shut down not long ago, demonstrated the security safeguard within (hetero) bar that appears in aftermath. El Mozo (Moza’s homosexual brother bar) was actually coming, therefore we nipped over there to track down which had vanished too.

We made a decision to recoup in a non-gay bar; the place ended up being live with Latin rhythms and passionately Salsa dancing (straight) couples. Lone dudes, their breaths sweet with aguardiente (Colombia’s national alcohol; exactly what tequila is Mexico), was available in mosquito-like droves, each on a mission to access the unclaimed dames. They were all very courteous and understood that a no meant no, nevertheless the heteronormative fat in this bar ended up being plenty, specially when we might psyched our selves up for per night of hanging out with hundreds of Latin-lesbians.

We quickly remaining and moved old school. Flipping on our queer-dar, we mooched across the streets looking for our very own colleagues. It did not take very long before we found (what we should determined had been) three fellow lezzas. We approached and tentatively enquired about Moza and “bar homosexual,” while eying in the amount of their own fingernails, hoping to possibly discover a secret lesbian bar or something with the type.

These people were really keen on the convo and spoke around for a time concerning the lackluster lesbian world in their urban area. Eventually, the dykiest-seeming of your brand new team (who would already been the most singing on the subject) left to go to a residence party. We were left because of the different two that hasn’t engaged in the homosexual cam very adamantly but had been keen to hang down with our company.

‘You want women?” she asked eagerly.

We said we did, presuming we were on a gay-level. Off we hopped in a cab, which whisked united states away for a few blocks before winding up at an inconspicuous doorway in no place. Both security guards (which knew the chaperones) looked at all of us with utter bemusement. “Qué?” they mentioned continuously to your guide, just as if she had been trying to just take a couple of wildebeest inside club.

We ascended the mirror-covered stairway presuming we had been heading doing a secret queer mecca but eventually realized that individuals’d already been taken to a brothel. Without a doubt there is nothing completely wrong with brothels—i am all for safe areas for intercourse staff members to accomplish their particular job—however, the vibe in this place had been bad; a small number of appropriate men, egos pulsating while they surveyed the room of half-clothed women. Everybody provided you wondering looks. They held the hope that we had been sometimes browsing get or promote gender whenever all we really desired would be to sip a cerveza and dancing to Sylvester. We left very rapidly, moved home and mulled across epic problem in our large homosexual evening out for dinner.

Evening Two

Let us attempt once more. Theatron, Bogotá’s fourteen-room superclub, is actually available to all, but it is a homosexual nightclub (to be exact, the biggest homosexual nightclub during the Western Hemisphere) in mind. At 10 p.m., we got for the 200-people queue, which covered round the location’s underground car parking like an anaconda. A techno bass thumped from threshold, and everybody jittered with excitement.

As soon as inside, we settled 55,000 pesos ($17) and received some synthetic mug for unlimited beverages all night. This is a common part of Colombian groups, and it has a truly positive influence on the environment inside the house; money and exchange are removed from the space, no one risks being plunged into an existential crisis when examining their lender balance next day.

We roamed around the location bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and figured this isn’t truly a venue. It’s a village which provides refuge to lots and lots of pleasure-seeking people every week. Staff members orchestrate the room meticulously; herding flocks of individuals, maintaining stairways free of charge and churning out mixer-after-mixer.

You would require per week in site to truly reach grips with it. House music played in central open-air place. Its developed like a town centre, with increased DJ porches in the middle and cocktail taverns, food stores, and bars on their borders. There were no less than ten DJs every night. They blended countless genres in various unique spaces. Reggaeton played in a chapel, pop in a large amphitheater. Donna Summers played when you look at the psychedelic disco place, Celia Cruz is on inside the salsa collection, and a DJ travelled in from Berlin to take-over the techno chamber.

From my observations that evening, it would appear that various types draw in various levels of heteronormativity. Salsa and reggaeton had been exactly about the heteros dry-humping within the church’s tarnished cup windowpanes. The pop music room had been mainly youthful, jubilant homosexual dudes flailing their unique arms as they drunkenly serenaded their particular pals. Techno appeared to entice more renewable lewks (piercings, died-hair, some fetish gear). It was the quintessential queer room, though dominated by tanked homosexual men which jumped products and de-clothed since the night developed.

Most people were Latin-American; there have been many gringos from regional hostels and only a small number of Black folks. On the whole, there were perhaps three different queer femme partners boating the location. One duo had corresponding purple and blue-dyed bobs. Another happened to be a Mexican couple I would sat alongside in the plane to Bogotá— we clearly move around in small sectors.

We gravitated with the queerness associated with the techno roo but left at about midnight to visit (what we thought had been) the women’s toilets: a pink entrance, a protection safeguard out top, plus the word “Eve” created over the door.

We figured it was an extremely glam entry to a lavatory once we climbed the glittery-pink staircase. When we hit the top, we realised that this was actually no toilet and we had accidentally uncovered a secret lesbian bar. In fact, Bogotá’s sole lesbian bar—period.

The area was actually kitschy: fuchsia pleather couches, a hot pink bar, pop-art paintings of dykons like Ellen, Gwen, Gaga, and Ginger covered the wall space. There was clearly a-pole dancing phase (that has been positively becoming used), a massive dance-floor, while the just female DJ when you look at the building.

There have been about thirty folks inside. Initially we-all danced in a big kumbaya asexual group, since it was chilled and unclear who was simply queer and who had been merely experiencing the femme fuel (in an effective way).

Because the evening advanced as well as the DJ started pouring much more steamy Latin (Reggaeton and dancehall) rhythms across the audience, couples started building remaining, correct, and heart. The room shortly evolved into exactly what do simply be referred to as a clothed live-demo from the A-to-Z of standing up lesbian gender jobs. Couples new and old were completely going for it. It actually was natural, hedonistic, Sapphic miracle.

Though we were efficiently encased in a huge homosexual nightclub, the deficiency of home policy, less dangerous space plan, or energetic prioritization from the venue’s primary access designed that this designated location proved a blessing for all of us lezzas. This secret lesbian club was really the only invest the location in which a woman could kiss a woman without anxiety about starting a close look to a sniveling drunk man baring their teeth with glee. We accepted the liberty of Eve, associated with secret lesbian club.

At the front end in the bar (we’d are available the medial side door) endured a big material gate, 2 yards by 2 yards (6.5 feet by 6.5 feet), with three home women saying “solo por chicas” on recurring. The majority of first got it and shifted, but little batches of men lurked away from entrance, lingering for five or 10 minutes, looking at their own tip-toes like horny meerkats, wanting to sneak-a-peak in the forbidden territory.

Once the clock struck 3 a.m., we pried our selves away from Eve so we could encounter more of the site. While carrying out the rounds contained in this gorgeous, sprawling town of hedonism, we stumbled across Lotus, a “solo hombres” area (presumably designed to create a safer area for homosexual guys to explore away from the mixed crowd). Its safe to state, there were no sets of females clambering to have a peek inside truth be told there.

We went as a result of the techno place and spent the rest of the handful of many hours getting wet with these men and women. We left at 5 a.m., pleased having found this certainly unique place, and also more content to possess revealed Bogotá’s key lesbian club.

Theatron Calle 58 #10-32, Bogotá, practice
@theatronbogota
.