At the risk of sounding like a bad Cosmo article, have you ever imagined residing in an exotic locale, lounging in a hammock while a tanned and buff Fabio (or Fabiana, whatever floats your boat) fans you with palm leaves? 

Blame it on growing up with such classics as The Lizzie McGuire Movie, but I presumed that if I ever lived abroad my romantic encounters would closely follow the previously mentioned fantasy.  Upon planning my year in Argentina (when I was not milling through government documents or googling “Why do you people not flush toilet paper in Buenos Aires?”) I was quick to jump to images of Fabio.  Absolutely none of this makes sense considering I am deeply shy and renowned for my lack of flirting prowess.  Just one glance from a suitor and I will break out in an itchy red rash.  I spent a greater part of my junior year wearing turtlenecks and scarves because I frequently saw the boy I liked on campus. 

However, this was before I moved to South America.  For those of you who have not traveled this far south of the equator, let me tell you one thing – prepare yourselves.  The men of Argentina (while I hate to generalize, this has been my experience so far) make Italians look shy.  They will pursue you, they will want to wine and dine you, and it will be bizarre though occasionally wonderful.  I’ve found that the strange experiences can be justified simply for that random, golden “perfect” date.  Here are some tips I’ve garnered from three months of rom com-worthy experiences, meeting less-than Fabio’s in the search for my true Fabio.