Modesty and the Spanish Gym

Most Americans I know, at least in the area I'm from, have a deeply rooted sense of modesty when it comes to showers. After growing up in a house full of girls, enduring the locker room for high school gym class, four years of dorm life, and a steady stream of roommates, I have learned that there has always been an unspoken point when you know to look away if someone is changing, or to stay out of the bathroom, or to make sure your towel is long enough. If at all possible, avoid showering in public places. We go out of our way to keep from feeling awkward or making other people feel awkward.

I might even go a little farther in my skewed sense of propriety--I feel awkward writing this blog because afterwards people will know that I shower and change my clothes...I'm trying not to think about it and to just write.

I joined a Curvas (same as Curves in the U.S.) gym yesterday. Today was my second day. It's an awesome workout--the kind that leaves you feeling very sweaty and noodly for a while afterwards. When I came in yesterday, the girl at the desk (she looks about my age) showed me around the gym and where to change before I went and joined the workout. The changing room was a nice, big, open area, with heavily frosted glass shower doors on one side and towel hooks next to the doors. I noticed there were no changing stalls next to the showers.

When I finally got out to the machines, I joined a few other women, all in workout pants or capri's, and me in my blatantly above the knee shorts, and with an American football emblazened on them, to boot. No one seemed to notice or care, so I pretended to do the same and continued with the workout. By then end my hair was sopping wet, my face was about as red as my shorts, and I didn't smell pretty. The usual gym look. One of the girls working there talked to me a bit afterwards in the changing rooms as I filled my water bottle for the 3rd time in 5 minutes. "The showers are over there, and then after you're done we'll sign the contract if you want to sign up for the gym."

"Oh," I replied. "Actually, I live close by, only about a 20 minute walk, so I'll just shower at home."

Her eyes widened. "Are you sure? You're welcome to shower here, and you'll feel fresher and better for the walk home."

Suddenly I felt awkward. She hid it well, but I saw her eyes scan over me--the bandana covering the sweaty hair, the red face, the grungy shorts and t-shirt. Sneakers that didn't match. Seeing myself in her eyes, going out into the city, walking for 20 minutes sweaty and gross, I suddenly felt....well, immodest.

"Today I don't have my shower things," I replied after an awkward hesitation. "I'll bring it tomorrow."

And I did. This morning, along with my gym clothes and shoes, I shoved the biggest towel (covering as much surface area as possible), my shampoo, and my soap into the backpack.

After the workout, feeling all wobbly and noodly again, I headed for the shower. "Get over it," I said to myself, hopefully silently. "It's just a different sense of modesty. And it's an all women's gym, anyway."

Just before dashing into the shower quickly while no one else was in the room, I made a quick scan of the shoes in the room. Do Spanish women wear shower shoes? I saw none. The only pair of flip-flops I saw were the ones I wore into the place. I didn't want to seem like the snobby American who has to wear shower shoes because she thinks Spaniards are gross, so I gulped and once again told myself, "Get over it."

Quick shower?
check.

Quick towel snatch and slam the shower door back shut while I dry off in that tiny cubicle that was not made for drying?
check.

Towel covers more than most Spanish dresses?
check.

I stepped out onto the little drying mat area in front of the shower, right after the woman in the shower next to me. She turned, in her bright blue shower flip flops, and immediately stared at my feet, shocked.

I tried to recover quickly, looking over at the flip-flops that I had worn into the gym and said, "Oh, I got into the shower without my shoes!" And I chuckled at myself and shook my head, hoping to imply a good, strong, "Silly me."

The woman looked visibly relieved.

So now I know.

I wonder how immodest Spaniards think Americans are.