#1 Naked in the Basque Country
Real quick we need to rewind to 2017 when I was studying in Sevilla, Spain. Of course I joined the local rugby team and unsurprisingly met incredible people. What did take me by surprise however, was after my first practice everyone proceeded to get naked in the locker room, dancing around and singing. Now I’m not a shy person. But, I have never been in a room filled with naked women so freely nude in my life up until that point. From my experience in the US while in the locker room, you turn and flash only your locker then you wrap your towel around your coochie and do a quick under the towel underwear swap shuffle. And this is just generally speaking; none of my teams even had a locker room. Little did I know it was routine that the team showered together after every practice and game. As my new teammates sensed my hesitation they started with the playful heckling, “ohhh Dana, tienes verguenza?!” I stared for a moment and then in one swift motion ripped my sports bra off and strutted to the showers to show I was all in.
Fast forward 4 years and here I am back in Spain, but this time in Basque Country - still looking to maintain that all in spirit. Now, there is a lot that I am still learning about the history of Basque Country and I’ve been told lots of stories and stereotypes about the people in the north vs the people in the south. There is a sticker in the gym that says “This is not Spain or France.” From what I understand generally speaking, Basque people have a great sense of pride for being Basque.
Anywho, this time I was anticipating the post game team shower. I was not anticipating the unapologetic openness to public nudity, bowel movements, and everything in between. (Welcome to my authentic blog ;))
We take one big bus to our away games - sometimes the drives are up to 8 hours away. Because of COVID most of the rest stops are closed. I was a bit nervous for our first trip knowing I’m an avid water drinker who typically is the first to ask for a bathroom stop. And my assumptions were correct - I had to go, bad. One teammate said, “we have a bathroom right here,” holding up an empty gasoline container. I laughed half because it was funny and half because I was nervous that she was serious. One of my other teammates, bless her, asked the bus driver to make a stop. I’m not sure what I expected to happen getting off the bus… but it certainly wasn’t this; 23 women funneling out of the bus, claiming their spot, and squatting on the side of the highway, mooning the cars as they went by. As one of my teammates stood up with no toilet paper my coach yelled out “repiqueteo,” a quick feet drill we do at warm ups, only this time used to shake off any lingering piddle.
Fast forward and it’s post game. We hadn’t gotten to social at home games because of COVID. But now, we were stuck on a bus together for 8 hours which meant beer and Kalimotxo (a local favorite cocktail of red wine and coke) for all. Maybe an hour after we left the field there I was again, stuck on a bus and had to pee, bad, really really bad. We wouldn’t be stopping for a side of the highway pee for another hour which meant it was time to break out the gasoline container; turns out it wasn’t a joke.
To give you a layout of the land, the stairway to exit the bus was the designated bathroom location where you had your handy gasoline container with a cut off top part of a 2 liter bottle attached to the opening to create a funnel for greater accuracy. If I wasn’t close to my team before this point, we were about to get a lot closer.
My biggest fear was missing the funnel and peeing all over our bus staircase and myself. I completely took off my pants and underwear in preparation for a deep squat. And there I was one leg on the first step, one leg on the third, straddling an upside down cut open bottle of coke, making direct eye contact with my coach. The pressure was on. One of my teammates, sensing my panic, came over to comfort me petting my hair and offering words of encouragement. After about 7 minutes squatting with no relief I decided I needed a reset. I put my pants back on and tried to collect myself.
After a brisk walk up and down the aisle I was ready to try again. This time with a new tactic taught to me by one of my teammates who mastered the gasoline throne. With both feet on the 3rd step, one teammate humming “psssssss”, and a line for the “bathroom” beginning to form normalizing the situation - I did it.
While this whole experience mostly makes me laugh it also got me thinking, why are we generally shy about our bodies in the US? How does this impact body image and self confidence? Are Spanish women generally more confident in their bodies? #normalizingnormalbodies?
Something I’ve always loved about traveling is the newness; new places, new experiences, new people, new perspectives, new opportunities to grow. While sometimes initially uncomfortable, I understand that my most valuable lessons (and favorite stories) have come from the uncomfortable. Awhile back when I saw USA 7s player Nicole Heavirland post “train to be comfortable being uncomfortable” I realized how big of an impact rugby has had on my constant yearning for something stimulating. Rugby is something that looks wildly uncomfortable. And in your first match maybe it is, but once you fall in love with it, it’s the most comfortable place in the world. It becomes home. Travel to me is like that - your mind and body (hello paella) is flooded with new stimuli - but there’s something so grounding about it that makes you feel whole.
This blog is a place to remember my adventures, to reflect on my stories, to learn from cultures different from my own, to grow from the uncomfortable, and to share it all with you - in rugby and in life. So buckle up, it’s gonna be one heck of a ride.