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


Clare Give
is a self-described flaming London lesbian. She is spent the very last year writing about
queer ladies’ night life
within her town. She documents the atmosphere, songs, styles, feeling (are you going to get set or make brand new friends?), and people behind the evenings.


Clare
made the decision which would not be right to just record dyke lifestyle in a single town, thus she packed the woman handbags and strike the road. She is discussing the thriving views in
Nyc
,
Bay Area
, Bogota, São Paulo, Berlin, and Dublin so far; this number helps to keep growing. Keep close track of the woman
Dyke Nightlife Diaries
right here.



Night One

The initial thing i really do once I get to a unique town is Bing my personal method to my personal peeps—”Queer taverns in…,” “Lesbian bars in…,” “Gay bars in… .” Bogotá’s results happened to be guaranteeing, with a lesbian nightclub known as Moza and a small number of gay bars—mainly for the area’s brand new bustling cultural center, Chapinero.

On saturday evening, my personal girlfriend and that I whizzed anywhere in a tiny bit yellowish cab to Moza. We pulled upwards, strode out, and unearthed that Moza was not much more. It shut down not long ago, explained the safety guard within (hetero) bar that appears with its wake. El Mozo (Moza’s gay cousin club) had been coming, therefore we nipped over indeed there to acquire so it had vanished as well.

We made a decision to recover in a non-gay club; the site was actually live with Latin rhythms and passionately Salsa dance (right) partners. Lone dudes, their unique breaths nice with aguardiente (Colombia’s national alcohol; just what tequila is Mexico), was available in mosquito-like droves, each on a mission to recover the unclaimed dames. They certainly were all extremely polite and recognized that a no implied no, however the heteronormative body weight inside club was much, specially when we might psyched ourselves upwards for every night of hanging out with numerous Latin-lesbians.

We soon left and moved old school. Switching on our very own queer-dar, we mooched across the roadways looking for the colleagues. It don’t take very long before we came across (what we should decided were) three fellow lezzas. We approached and tentatively enquired about Moza and “bar homosexual,” while eying in the period of their unique fingernails, hoping to perhaps find a secret lesbian club or something in the kind.

These were very keen on the convo and spoke with our team for some time concerning the lackluster lesbian world within their area. Before long, the dykiest-seeming in our new staff (who would also been the essential singing on the subject) remaining to go to a residence party. We were remaining with the other two who hadn’t involved with the gay talk very adamantly but happened to be keen to hang down with us.

‘You wish girls?” she asked eagerly.

We mentioned we did, presuming we had been on a gay-level. Off we hopped in a cab, which whisked united states away for a beneficial few blocks before finding yourself at an inconspicuous doorway in the center of nowhere. The two safety guards (which knew the chaperones) looked over all of us with utter bemusement. “Qué?” they stated continually to your guide, just as if she ended up being wanting to simply take several wildebeest inside bar.

We ascended the mirror-covered staircase assuming we had been proceeding up to a secret queer mecca but shortly realized that we’d already been taken up a brothel. However there’s nothing wrong with brothels—i am all for secure rooms for sex workers doing their unique job—however, the ambiance in this place was terrible; a number of suited males, egos throbbing while they surveyed the bedroom of scantily clad women. Everyone offered you wondering appearance. They presented the hope we had been possibly probably get or sell intercourse whenever all we actually wanted would be to sip a cerveza and dance to Sylvester. We left very rapidly, stepped home and mulled around impressive problem of our large homosexual date.



Night Two

Why don’t we try again. Theatron, Bogotá’s fourteen-room superclub, is open to all, but it is a gay nightclub (to be exact, the biggest homosexual pub in the american Hemisphere) in your mind. At 10 p.m., we got during the 200-people waiting line, which covered round the place’s belowground carpark like an anaconda. A techno bass thumped from roof, and everyone jittered with pleasure.

When inside, we paid 55,000 pesos ($17) and were given some synthetic cup for limitless beverages all night long. This is exactly one common thing in Colombian clubs, and it has a really positive influence on the atmosphere inside the house; money and trade tend to be taken off the area, no one risks becoming plunged into an existential crisis whenever examining their unique lender stability the next day.

We roamed across venue bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and determined that this isn’t really a venue. It’s a village that offers sanctuary to 1000s of pleasure-seeking individuals weekly. Employees orchestrate the space meticulously; herding flocks of men and women, maintaining stairways complimentary and churning out mixer-after-mixer.

You’ll require each week in the location to actually arrive at grips along with it. Home songs played inside central open-air region. It really is created like a town heart, with elevated DJ decks at the center and cocktail taverns, food stores, and bars on the borders. There are at the least ten DJs every night. They blended countless types in a variety of distinctive rooms. Reggaeton played in a chapel, play a massive amphitheater. Donna Summers played from inside the psychedelic disco room, Celia Cruz is on inside salsa collection, and a DJ flew in from Berlin to take over the techno chamber.

From my personal findings that evening, it seems that different genres draw in various quantities of heteronormativity. Salsa and reggaeton had been everything about the heteros dry-humping in chapel’s tarnished glass windows. The pop place ended up being mostly youthful, jubilant homosexual guys flailing their own hands while they drunkenly serenaded their particular pals. Techno seemed to draw in the quintessential alternate lewks (piercings, died-hair, some fetish equipment). It had been many queer space, though ruled by tanked homosexual guys just who popped supplements and de-clothed because the evening evolved.

A lot of people happened to be Latin American; there have been a couple of gringos from regional hostels and just a few Ebony men and women. Overall, there had been possibly three additional queer femme partners boating the location. One duo had matching purple and blue-dyed bobs. Another were a Mexican pair I would sat near to regarding jet to Bogotá— we obviously move around in tiny circles.

We gravitated towards the queerness associated with techno roo but remaining at about midnight to go to (that which we believed had been) the ladies’s lavatories: a green doorway, a protection shield out top, as well as the phrase “Eve” created over the home.

We figured this was a really glam entrance to a commode as we climbed the glittery-pink staircase. When we smack the very top, we realised that the was no toilet and then we had unintentionally found a secret lesbian bar. Actually, Bogotá’s sole lesbian bar—period.

The area was actually kitschy: fuchsia pleather sofas, a hot red bar, pop-art paintings of dykons like Ellen, Gwen, Gaga, and Ginger lined the wall space. There was clearly a pole dance level (which was surely being used), a large dance-floor, as well as the just feminine DJ inside building.

There are around thirty of us within. In the beginning everyone danced in a big kumbaya asexual circle, given that it ended up being chilled and not clear who was simply queer and who was simply simply enjoying the femme power (in a great way).

Because night developed in addition to DJ started flowing much more steamy Latin (Reggaeton and dancehall) rhythms over the audience, partners started creating left, correct, and centre. The room eventually evolved into exactly what do only be described as a clothed live-demo for the A-to-Z of standing lesbian intercourse roles. Couples new and old were positively choosing it. It absolutely was raw, hedonistic, Sapphic miracle.

Though we had been effectively encased in a huge homosexual club, having less home policy, better area plan, or effective prioritization during the location’s primary entry created that designated place showed a blessing for us lezzas. This secret lesbian club was truly the only place in the place where a lady could kiss a female without concern about starting an eye fixed to a sniveling drunk man baring his teeth with glee. We accepted the freedom of Eve, from the secret lesbian bar.

At the front end associated with the bar (we might are available the medial side doorway) stood an enormous metal gate, 2 yards by 2 meters (6.5 legs by 6.5 feet), with three door females stating “solo por chicas” on repeat. Many started using it and shifted, but small batches of men lurked outside the door, ongoing for 5 or ten full minutes, looking at their unique tip-toes like naughty meerkats, attempting to sneak-a-peak for the restricted territory.

While the time clock struck 3 a.m., we pried ourselves from the Eve so we could enjoy more of the site. While doing the rounds within this stunning, sprawling village of hedonism, we came across Lotus, a “solo hombres” region (presumably made to make a safer space for gay dudes to explore off the mixed crowd). Its secure to say, there were no groups of females clambering for a glance inside indeed there.

We went down to the techno room and invested the rest of the few hours getting flushed with these men and women. We remaining at 5 a.m., happy to have located this certainly distinctive site, as well as happier to possess revealed Bogotá’s key lesbian bar.


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

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