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MARCHING POWDER

I pleaded with the slightly friendlier-looking bouncer, telling him that I was a foreigner visiting Bolivia on business. I only had one weekend and had heard that this club was the best in the country. He shook his head. Then I asked him whether they accepted credit cards and let it slip that Jaime was actually my police bodyguard. Jaime played his part perfectly, too: he nodded that it was true and nervously flashed his police ID, all the while looking around to assess the security risk and consulting his new watch. Suddenly, the bouncer seemed more interested and started speaking quickly in Spanish. I was just about to ask him to repeat what he had said when I realised that he had an earphone and was talking into a small microphone pinned to his shirt. When he got a reply, his attitude changed completely.

'Siga seΓ±or, por favor.' He motioned for us go in and patted me on the back as I passed through. We didn't even have to pay.

At the end of the entrance passage, we came to two large, wooden doors, which were opened for us by an attendant. Almost immediately I was deafened by the electronic music and had to blink because of all the flashing lights overhead. Inside, the club was amazing. We were in a huge, open room that was split into two levels; the ground level had two bars with the dance floor in the centre and the upstairs section had a balcony that looked down over the dance floor. Both levels were packed with partygoers. Some danced salsa, while others jumped around to the European music. The clients in the exclusive upstairs section held on to the railing as they danced and watched everyone below. Around the dance floor small groups sat at tiny, black tables drinking rounds from bottles of imported alcohol, and along the outer walls there were more people seated in small booths.

I stood there taking all this in until a waiter offered to lead us to a table, where he asked us what we would like to drink. I ordered two Heinekens and had to pay up front. He came back almost immediately with the beers and the change, which I said he could keep. I always give the best tip of the evening on the first round to get better service. I looked around the club again. The atmosphere was alive but the place was almost too full and, to be honest, I felt a little anxious at first. The lights and the music and the bare skin all seemed to dissolve into my mind. Pretty girls looked me up and down. Some of them smiled. I tried to smile back without giving too much away, but it had been a while since I had played these games and I couldn't

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