When we began our ethnographic study, we found a small and unspecialized world. Nine years ago, public sex places could be counted on the fingers of your hands and people invested a fair amount of time in making contacts. The number of participants was relatively small for a country with a metropolitan area of more than one million inhabitants. Moreover, sexual encounters were more a question of individuals than groups and were carried out with some discretion.
Below is a summary of the reports provided by ethnographers and eye-witnesses.
The Parque Monumental is located just east of downtown San Jose. It was built at the end of the nineteenth century in the place formerly known as the “Plaza de la Liberal” (Freedom Square). It consists of two acres of land planted with trees. Some are huge fig trees, more than fifty years old, with enormous roots which struggle to invade new territory. Unlike European parks, there is no pattern or order in the size, type or shape of the trees. A pine tree, a fig tree, a mango tree and a eucalyptus stand side by side. “The trees here are planted by birds who shit the seeds”, says Ernesto, a high school student. The Municipality of San Jose is responsible for the park’s upkeep, but seems content to send in the gardeners once or twice a year. “When they come here,” adds Ernesto, “they do such a quick cleanup that you don’t know if the place was hit by lightning or if they pruned the trees.” It’s not clear whether the gardeners use fertilizer. “The only fertilizer these trees get is the piss from old queens and kids who come here to fuck,” says our interviewee. The stench of urine among the tree roots confirms his assertions. “The queens do wonders for these trees. Since they drink so much liquor and do so much crack, they feed the soil. These trees are well fertilized with coke. Don’t tell me that crack doesn’t make plants grow !”, he remarks.
In the center of the park stands a monument to Costa Rica’s heroes. Bronze statues of well-built men hold the national flag aloft, in military triumph.“This is an important monument because it represents the battle in which Costa Ricans prevented the country’s annexation to the United States,” we are told by a man who frequents this park. “Was the United States really going to invade Costa Rica?”, we ask with curiosity. “Well, not the government directly, but a few gringo bandits led from Nicaragua,”45 adds a sex worker. “The gringos have always wanted to invade us and fuck us Ticos”, he adds. “Well, in the end they didn’t succeed,” we say to continue the conversation. “Yeah, but now they come here and fuck queens behind this monument,” he says with indignation. “Anyway,” he adds, “what the hell did we gain with independence? Us poor people didn’t gain anything. They’d pay us more in Miami to give our asses to foreigners than what we get here.”
There are cement benches (poyos) distributed throughout the park. The park is designed in the “landscaped” architectural style characteristic of the turn of the century. “These benches are so hard -- they leave you with a flat ass,” complains a student, who uses them during the day to study. “And they’re so old and damp and full of mold. Here it rains six months of the year and the benches get wet every day and nobody cleans them. Well, you need to clean them before you sit down. Can’t you see how careless people are? They spill their soda all over the seats.” The innocent student does not realize that she has sat on a semen stain left from the night before.
Except for the steps leading up to the monument, the benches are the only places to sit. There are about eighty of them around the park. Some are closer to sidewalks that surround the park, while others are hidden among the leafy trees. “This is my favorite bench,” says a gay who comes to this park at night. “It has a beautiful view and is very well positioned. It’s also very discreet because it’s covered by a branch that fell about a year ago. I need to get here early because there’s a bunch of queens who try to grab it from me. In this country, nobody respects other people’s property. When I go I leave a few thumbtacks so that the next queen who sits here will get stuck in the ass.”
Although Parque Monumental has artificial lighting, much of it is often in darkness because of electrical faults that last several days. According our interviewee Mario, a 17 year-old student:
The behavior of the groups who come to the park has a lot to do with the lighting. What happens here is determined by whether or not the area is lit, or whether it’s daytime or nighttime. The fact that there is no lighting encourages some people to enter the park to make their contacts and others to fuck with other people. It’s very interesting to see how when it’s dark, people are a bit freer, in the sense that they can openly participate in sex, even with penetration. Sometimes the darkness provides cover for folks to have orgies with three to five people.
When the park is well lit, people are more restrained and, though they will pick up partners at a bench or as they walk, it is done with more caution. People approach each other, greet each other, talk and say a few introductory words to get to know each other a little. “Gays are the enemies of lighting”, adds Mario, “there’s a whole tradition of smashing street lights here. There’s a famous queen who’s known as the “baseballer” because she goes around breaking them. Some couples will even pay her to break a lamp.”
But the park is not the only pick-up point. There are nearby alleyways which, because they are in permanent darkness, become very crowded. “The parks have their own roots, like the trees,” says Eduardo, another gay client. “In other words, they spread out into the surrounding alleyways, empty houses or vacant lots.”
This is the case of an alleyway which is located near a public institution. It is used by couples who meet in the park and who are looking for a little more privacy. It is a dark place which runs diagonally across the block, behind a large public building. There is an exit at both ends of the alleyway, and the railroad line passes along one side. “A lot of queens like to fuck in this alleyway. They’re known as the “locomotives” because they like to play “little trains” right on the railroad lines. One day they’re all going to get flattened together”, says Carlos, a 28 year-old gay who is a “regular” here.
The other side of the alleyway is flanked by the garden walls of a few houses. It is a foul smelling place because of the indigents who defecate by the walls and the large heaps of garbage dumped by local residents. During certain times of the year, the grass grows tall and needs to be cut regularly.
Gay activity begins at nightfall. There is already a fair amount of action between 6 and 6.30 in the evening. Unlike the park, the clientele here is predominantly gay and the area is less exposed to passers by.
About two blocks away from the park is a bus stop with a very popular public toilet. Though the urinal measures only six feet square and is unlit, it is a busy venue for public sex during the day, and especially at night.
In the daytime, a young man charges people two colones (1989) to use the urinal. This measure was introduced by the authorities as a way of controlling the intense sexual activity. But, after 6 p.m. the attendant leaves and the place becomes a pick-up point and a place for sexual encounters.
This particular toilet has become a well known place for gay sex. On several occasions the ethnographer heard heterosexual men coming in to use the toilet and because the urinal was full of gays (eight people can squeeze in tightly), they were told: “take a piss outside, because it’s full of queers in there”, or “don’t go in there because you’ll get raped by the sodomites inside.”He answered, “but I need to pee”, to make them reveal what was going on inside.“Well, you’d better pee into a Coke bottle,” they answered, “because in that toilet they’ll take out your milk and even your blood.” When the man entered the toilet anyway, he heard them say “ that sonofabitch is a sodomite too”. This is how the ethnographer describes the toilet:
The urinal stinks because nobody uses disinfectant here. Four men are inside pretending to urinate, but they are looking at other men’s penises. Because I don’t pee and stand watching the men, one says “Well? What’s the matter with you? This is a toilet and you don’t come here to gawp.”I answer firmly, “If this is a toilet, then what are you doing, „cause I don’t see anyone peeing”. “Well, can’t you see we’ve got our dicks out?” he says rudely. “Yeah, but I don’t understand what you’ve got it out for if you just spend your time watching the guy next to you. Are you going to pee with his dick?” I ask them ironically. The other three begin to laugh and one turns around and touches my penis and says to the other, “Can’t you see he’s scared and what he wants is for his daddy to help him piss”. I decide to end the ethnographic observation and rush outside before he keeps his promise. However, the heterosexuals are still outside, pretending they’re waiting to go in. “Did you have a good pee” they yell mockingly.
Although the toilet closes after 11 or 11.30 at night, the ethnographer saw men masturbating each other and having oral sex outside the toilet, by the metal doors. “People don’t come here to pee,” says Eduardo. “This is a magical place where people know that you come to have sex, whether the doors are open or shut.”
Three blocks away is a derelict house that was destroyed by a fire. Alcoholics and people who live on the streets kicked down the door a couple of years ago. Apparently, the heirs to this property are involved in a lawsuit to determine who it belongs to. While the ponderous Costa Rican courts decide who the legitimate owner is, the park’s clients have made it their second home. Because the house has no roof, it can only be used when it is not raining. However, the dividing walls of what used to be the three bedrooms, the lounge, the kitchen and the entrance hall, are still standing.
When you enter this house, only shadows are visible. Nevertheless, people have figured out a way to see who comes in: they strike a match or use a lighter, providing illumination for just a few brief seconds. Another method is to inhale on a cigarette. In this way, you can see the person who is next to you for just a few seconds and at the same time allow yourself to be seen. Juan, a young gay man of 22, tells us that somebody once arrived with a flashlight. “People were really upset because it was like the police. This queen was shoving her flashlight in everyone’s face. There was no privacy. The clients themselves broke her flashlight that night.” The rule here is total darkness, interrupted only by the flicker of matches or the glow of cigarettes.
The house smells damp and pieces of burnt wood lie scattered on the floor. When the ethnographer gets used to the darkness and the glow of cigarettes, he counts about a half dozen people. Half the clients are crammed into the entrance hall. He approaches and finds he is mistaken. Six of the men with cigarettes have partners who are giving them oral sex. Nobody seems bothered by his presence. One man inhales his cigarette and stares at him, while his partner kneels with his back to the ethnographer. The man inhales again and continues to stare at him. Although he is having sex with someone else, his interest is aroused by the ethnographer. He is a handsome and masculine man, with beautiful eyes and the ethnographer cannot avoid being attracted to him.“What is he thinking now that I’m looking at him?”, he wonders. There is no ethnographical study that does not change the culture it observes.
Other places frequented by gays in search of sexual contacts are movie theaters. One of these is located in the so-called “red light district”, the most dangerous area of the capital. The movie theater is surrounded by brothels of women and transvestites. The building is old, dilapidated and notoriously filthy inside. A sixty year-old heavily made-up woman, who could pass for a government bureaucrat , sells us tickets. “What time does the movie start?”, we ask. “Don’t worry, there are movies here all the time”, she replies in an offhand manner. As she gives us our change, we ask ourselves whether this woman knows what goes on inside. The question is not easy to answer. Germans still argue about whether or not ordinary people knew what went on inside the concentration camps. Many of victims of Treblinka who arrived at the camp on trains from all over Europe would put on makeup and comb their hair before getting off the train. Although they had evidence that death awaited them, they fooled themselves until the very end. The human mind is a box of surprises and as the saying goes,“There is none so blind as he who will not see”.
The movies are of poor quality, usually Mexican pictures or old box office hits that are now very damaged. The tickets cost 440 colones. There are three shows, at 3, 7 and 9 p.m. Today they are showing an old “Cantinflas” movie (a popular Mexican comedian). The clients do not seem amused by the comic’s antics. “The only thing we like about Cantinflas is that he walks around with his pants down”, says a transvestite. “People only care about whether the movie is shot at night or in the daytime. If it’s shot at night, there’s less light and you can throw yourself at any man you want. When there’s more light, you just look at people.” In any case, Costa Rican humor is very different from Mexican humor, and is even more remote for gays. “Costa Ricans don’t have such a complex about being underdeveloped. Our problem is we’re not as developed as we think we are,” remarks the transvestite.
The inside of the building is totally neglected. It smells of semen and urine. The seats are torn and some are broken. “Nobody is going to complain because they can’t sit down,” says Victor, a regular visitor to this place. “The truth is, the clients themselves break them with their orgies. This one was broken by Rhino, a fat queen who sat down on top of some punk. How can a poor piece of wood cope with a 220 pound whale who’s leaping up and down like a squirrel in a tree?”
The people who come here have established different areas for sexual activity. As we shall see, the movie theater is divided into areas where different sexual practices take place and where different groups of homosexuals congregate, each one varying according to age, sexual desires and social class. The clients have divided up the different sections in accordance with the divisions of the National Theater: circle, stalls and balcony. However, the differences have nothing to do with proximity or distance from the screen. “The balcony is the area that’s darkest and farthest from the screen” says Victor.
The period before the movie begins is used by clients to look around for possible sexual contacts. When the lights go out, a general movement begins to the different areas of the theater.
Like I told you before, I think the Beirut is too cramped for so many people, but it’s a gay place. Coming in here is none too pleasant because of its location -- San Jose’s red light district. It’s dirty from the beginning.
As you enter the building, the toilets are straight ahead and on the left is a staircase leading to the upper floor. The entrance to the theater is on the right. “You can hitch up in any of these places.” The whole area at the back of the theater is also an action point. According to Victor, it is “the area for the old guys who pay, who offer money to suck your dick or invite you out to eat if you’ll go with them. I don’t know how much they pay. They say it straight to your face: µHey, will you sleep with me today? I’ll pay you something.’. We notice one or two older men leaving the building with a younger man. “Where do they go?”, we ask our informer. “To seedy hotels nearby”.“And how much do they pay these young kids?” we ask. “Well, not much, because the old guys don’t have money. Some young guys will go with them because they don’t have teeth and so they prefer them for oral sex. Here, having false teeth isn’t considered a bad thing. On the contrary, some prostitutes refuse clients who have teeth.”
Near the entrance to the theater, on the ground floor, are some filthy, fifty-year-old curtains, and behind them sit a group of men. Victor explains who they are. “They’re the cock-sucking queens. They can see who goes into the bathroom, because you just pull the curtain a little and you can see who goes in. So these people sit there and immediately someone goes to the bathroom, they get up and go see if they can suck him.”
In this lower area, very close to the screen, is a door which is usually left half-open. The door leads directly to the bathroom. “This is where a lot of people sit to watch or to masturbate... That area downstairs is dismal, completely dirty. You sit down and you can feel the lice biting, everything makes you itch, like a kind of skin rash”, says Alberto, Victor’s friend. “People have sex there,” continues Alberto, “but it’s not so obvious, it’s all hidden because the guy with the flashlight is there, so there’s just a movement of hands, mutual masturbation and oral sex.”
Upstairs, the theater is divided into three areas. The left-hand side is not too crowded and few people sit in the central area. But on the right-hand side, which is hidden from view as you enter, “is Sodom and Gomorrah,” exclaims Victor.
I sit in the upper circle and pretend to watch the movie. However, the real show is off-screen. A well-built man of about 30 years old comes over and sits next to me. While Cantinflas acts the fool as a bullfighter on screen, my new neighbor begins to touch me up and fixes his gaze on me. I’m afraid because I don’t know what to do. I continue to look at the screen. While Cantinflas performs pirouettes, the guy takes out his penis and begins to touch it softly. Since I do not make any move, another man approaches him and places a coat on top of him. He puts his hand underneath and begins to masturbate him. Neither one says a word. Two employees with flashlights come by in search of a lost wallet. Although they pretend to fix their eyes on the floor, one says to the other: “this is the first time I see a coat dancing salsa”.
Saunas differ from the places mentioned above because they are private establishments. The people who go there are exclusively homosexuals or bisexuals who know what kind of activities to expect. As far as the clientele is concerned, the men who frequent saunas are similar to those found in the bars: gay or bisexual men who prefer to be in places recognized as such. However, unlike the gay discotheques, the saunas have one purpose: sex. Moreover, as shown later, the type of man who goes to saunas is not necessarily the same as the one who go to bars.
For this part of the survey, we studied three gay saunas in San Jose.
The first, known as “Decoro”, is located in downtown San Jose in an old, fairly dilapidated house. A small metal plaque on one side of the door is the only indication that this is a business. The entrance fee is 300 colones (in 1989) and the establishment opens at 2 in the afternoon and closes at 9 policy-making at night. It is run by the entire family of a gay married man: wife, mother and son. When the mother is in charge, she behaves as if the place were really a spa. “Here’s your towel and your soap, sir, so you can have a good wash and stay healthy”, says the mother, who wears a crucifix and has a statue of the Virgin in her small office .“Thank you very much,” I reply, “can you tell me what this sauna has?”, I ask innocently. “Well, what would you expect it to have? A sauna, a bathroom and a rest room.”, replies the woman irritably.
She herself cleans the cubicles and the bathrooms. “That old broad would have to be very dumb not to know what goes on inside. Sometimes she has to collect used condoms and dirty sheets, what does she think this is?”, remarks a client who is not impressed by her apparent religious devotion.
On entering the premises, clients are handed a small blanket, a bath towel, and a padlock and key for their locker. They also pay their entrance fees.
As you begin to undress, you notice the difference with other public places. Here everyone knows what he is here for. There is no mystery, as in the parks and movie theaters. Nudity and desire are totally evident. Nevertheless, a certain Latin modesty persists. For example, two gay men wrap towels around themselves before taking off their underpants, thereby hiding their genitals. Others, however, undress completely before putting on a towel. “The guys who wrap towels around themselves before getting undressed usually have small dicks.”, says Pepe, the young man who cleans the toilets. “The ones with big dicks take hours to wrap the towel around themselves.” Some like to pretend that they’re not here for sex. “That queen,” continues Pepe, “pretends to be an executive. He takes a magazine and starts to read outside the steam bath, like he was at a business meeting.”
The Latin sauna lacks the honesty of the North American saunas. Despite the fact that it is a place for sex, it pretends not to be, as though people are just there for the sake of it. “And why are you here?”, Pepe asks. “To do a study on saunas,” I reply. “Oh yeah? Then I’m Oprah”, he answers sarcastically. “Oh, I see you have a pen in your hand.” Pepe says goodbye and begins to clean the floor.
There is a small sauna room, a TV room with old furniture, four showers, two toilets and two small rooms where couples can have sex. Each of these rooms contains a metal-framed bed with a vinyl-covered mattress. There is no electric light. “The vinyl is a real problem,” says Claudio, a 21 year-old client. You sweat like a pig and it sticks to your back and feels horrible.”
There is also another small room where massages are given by a masseur who is generally a “cachero”, a heterosexual man who has sex only for money. The door is closed, indicating that a client is inside. Genaro, a young man of about 20, tells us that a hair stylist is inside with David, the most well-endowed masseur in the place. “How do you know he’s a hair stylist?”, we ask with some curiosity. “The queen goes in with a brush and hair spray to fix her hair and go to work. She had a transplant and needs to cover the holes they made in front. When her hair gets messed up she looks like a broken doll”, he tells us with total confidence.
The place is dirty and cockroaches can be seen wandering freely from the sauna room. “When there’s nothing to do we entertain ourselves by killing µroaches,” says Claudio. “Once I thought a man was caressing my back and it was a miserable fat, black cockroach, a bug that you can’t even squash because it stinks like hell.” “Doesn’t it disgust you to have sex with so many bugs around?, we ask. “Actually, it turns me on when a place is full of animals. I feel like Jungle Jane.”
There is not a single information poster about AIDS in the establishment, despite the fact that the owner attended a prevention course. “I can’t put posters in here -- people would worry. They come here to have fun and relax and not think about bad things,” he adds. “But don’t you think it’s in your interest that people don’t get infected, so that you don’t lose your clients?” we ask. “Well, there will always be more queens in this country. You know, they breed like rabbits here and every week there’s thousands of new ones.”
The other sauna is called “Jolon” . It is also located in downtown San Jose, on the second floor of an old building. A large sign above the entrance bears the name of the place without indicating that it is a sauna, to discourage visits from people who are not homosexuals. It opens from 2 p.m. to 9 p.m.
Clients must ring a bell as they climb the stairs so that the attendant will open the metal gate. An entrance fee of 300 colones is charged and visitors receive a blanket, a towel and a key to their respective locker. Then, another locked door leading into the sauna is opened. Next to it is an office belonging to a woman lawyer. Sometimes, her clients and those from the sauna run into each other on the stairs. “One day I was walking upstairs and I who should I meet but my aunt going to the lawyer’s office,” recalls Joaquín, a client. “I nearly died, because the old broad is such a gossip.” “What did you do?” we ask. “I went into the lawyer’s office so she wouldn’t realize I was going to the sauna. I had to pay for an appointment for nothing and ended up without any money!”
The sauna has a large bar with a television, where pornographic videos are shown every day. There is another room with a TV showing regular programs. Here, there are no chairs, only three foam mattresses covered with vinyl on the floor. There are also four smaller rooms with just enough space for a mattress on the floor. This where the more private sexual encounters take place.
This sauna is in better shape than the first. It is cleaner and has two showers with no partition between them. The only toilet in the establishment bears a Ministry of Health poster which reads “Safe Sex: Just one healthy sexual partner”.
Like the other two establishments, the Laton Sauna is located in the center of San Jose. The notice by the entrance says “Gymnasium”. At one time there was very little traffic on the street where it is located, but now there is a bus stop which has become a problem for some clients who are afraid that they might be seen entering.
To enter through the main door, clients must ring a bell and Jose, the administrator, opens the metal gate. Jose decides who will be admitted. He will not open the door to people who are unknown or unattractive. “No sir,” he says to an older man, “this gymnasium is only for young people. You should find one for older people.” “But there aren’t any gyms for older people, kid. Anyhow, this is not a gym.”, says the man indignantly. “Well, you’re no body-builder either!” replies Jose.
Half an hour later, Jose makes an exception to the rules. This time the prospective clients happen to be six players from a Dutch soccer team that is visiting the country.“Welcome to Laton! How can I help you?”, says Jose in good English. “We want sex!”, replies one of the players. Jose is mesmerized by their good looks and virility. “Please, come in, make yourselves at home. Here at Laton it’s like being in Amsterdam. We also have high quality cheese here that will make you feel great.”. Barely five minutes after the players’ arrival and Jose is already phoning all his clients. “Come over immediately! Some Dutch guys have just arrived and I promised them lots of action”. Within a few hours the sauna is full. Word has gotten around San Jose that a bunch of tall, blonde, well-built soccer players have arrived at Laton’s. More than fifty clients show up that day. “But why are you charging more today?”, a regular client complains. “Well, because today we’re offering imported meat and Dutch milk,” replies Jose.
Clients leave their valuables in a sealed bag which is kept at the front desk and receive a locker key, a bar of soap, a towel and a blanket. Unlike the other saunas, the towels here are very short. “This little towel is no good, my balls hang out,” a client complains. “Look, Luis, hold your gut in and stop whining.”, chides Jose. “Anyway, that way you’ll fool the clients with those huge balls. They’ll think the rest of the goods are the same size.”
The sauna has a very large bar with a TV that shows pornographic videos on Fridays. Next to the bar is a dark room which the manager calls the “music room”. I go into the room and see three people masturbating. I leave and walk over to watch the movie that is being shown. Two super-macho Americans are in full action. “I don’t know why Jose shows these movies. We never get men with dicks that size here.”, remarks Gerardo, a 26 year-old client who watches the movie with indifference. “Shut up!” says Juan, a man of about 40. “Did you see the Dutch soccer players who arrived?” He had hardly finished talking when the other man had already disappeared.
The establishment has two sauna rooms: a large one and a small one with capacity for three people. Both are dimly lit and are also used for sexual encounters. The clients are gathered in the large room where the Dutchmen are. When things heat up, the footballers take off their towels and show off their wares. Three clients approach them and do the same. They are all naked. Looks become more penetrating and passion becomes evident. One of the clients who can no longer stand the heat pretends to complain and leaves saying,” I’m fed up with underdevelopment. The Europeans outstrip us even with the size of their dicks. How humiliating!”
There is a TV room with vinyl-covered mattresses, two toilets and two showers. Both toilets have Ministry of Health posters about AIDS. A staircase leads to the second floor where the lockers are kept. Another staircase leads to the “gym”, which contains a few weight training machines that have seen better days. The machines are there to convince the authorities that this is a gym. Carlos describes an official visit:
One day the Health Ministry raided this place and the guys who sweep and clean the bathrooms moved the machines and began to exercise to make them think that they were in a gym. Even the administrator who’s the laziest bum and hates to exercise began to lift weights. The poor guy couldn’t sit down for a week! Anyhow, the health officials knew it was all a cover up. When they left they told Jose that the only muscle he’d developed was his sphincter.
Next to this gym are two small rooms. A notice on one of them says “Storeroom”, though the room is used for sex. The other room has no door. Both have a vinyl covered mattress on the floor. One of the sauna’s regular clients tells us that even marriages -- albeit very fleeting ones -- have taken place behind its walls:
One day I met a ha