There is something about horse races that just seems to bring together dapper, semi-elderly men on Sunday afternoons. At the Hipodromo de San Isidro outside of Buenos Aires I experienced my first horse race. It was a great deal like many male-dominated sporting events the world over—long, slightly boring, anti-climactic, and, since it is winter in South America, cold. It made me think of the Harvard-Yale football games that I get duped into attending every Thanksgiving.

At least at a horse race there is the added element of fun afforded by placing bets on the horses, or “studs” as they are called. They have the most inventive names, since there can’t be any repetitions in the official stud book. “Free Saucy,” Sensual Plus,” and “Honorable Lady” were my personal favorite stud names.

Plus, it is always amusing to be the only woman at a mostly-male event. And to be the only American just intensifies that intriguing feeling of foreignness.

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