I searched long my gym. I wanted to go there at 6 o'clock 00, as in Montreal (where the streets and the rooms are empty. I'm an early riser. This is another point that I did not share with my little lioness with new claws that is not capable of assimilating an intellectual concept prior to consumption of its 14 coffees), but the Algerians are not early risers. In addition, schedules for most of the rooms are divided between male and female ranges.
Fortunately, I was able find me a small room barely aromatic Riadh El Feth, a huge complex built by the state (of course) that includes the monument of martyrs. Every evening (arg. I do not train in the evening, but I myself do) I'm 500 meters from my house to the complex and I cross a mall horribly empty (there was a bomb a few years ago and people there are more). I have to climb two floors and, on reaching the third, an oval in the ceiling gives a quite stunning monument illuminated. I was told that I should be proud that it was designed and built by Canadians nice. It's beautiful work. The
reason I mention my gym is that in the comments about cultural differences and that Algiers is first and foremost a Mediterranean city. Seeing the guys in the room, it feels fine.
First, I must say that the room is mixed and that men are (surprisingly) very respectful of the pretty ladies sportswear who attend the classes mixed. Nawel became a member after I told him about it and no man has touched in a way even vaguely macho (to his chagrin, I suppose: P). They participate in aerobics classes (of "fitness." Arg) and seem completely ridiculous dancing and jumping, but it is a good exercise and no one makes fun of them.
By cons, in the weight room, you can see we are located on the Old Sea Basin. Of all the men who play with dumbbells, there is NO ONE who does not charge beyond 30% capacity and will then cry out in a manner scarcely men (as we face the Williams sisters and is thought to demonstrate virility?) wringing his lumbar vertebrae in order to complete the exercises. They are also at a speed whereby the targeted muscles do not receive any benefit (if you release a weight between rehearsals an uncontrolled manner, work may be the force of gravity of our planet, but it does not work any muscle).
When I got to the room six weeks ago, I had just driven past seven months. I do this, however, since the age of 15 years (it's been nearly 21 years. * Sniff * Chu old), so I know my body and vaguely, more importantly, I took courses in anatomy of the year when I played football. I was using small weights at the beginning to awaken my muscles were screaming and asking who was this portly Canadian who can barely lift a load of female class.
... now I lift more weight than almost all the "guys", with good technique. They are surprised. That's because I work my muscles while they are breaking their backs.
I still have fun with them (at least they do not spit on the floor) and I shut the hell up (something that is not easy when you have a guy who resembles a portly accountant 42 years later of course, that puts the full weight of the machine pull-down and screaming like a madman and, subsequently, gives advice to a young man who has just begun. Shut up Eric). The owner is super fun and nice. It does not bother me too much (partly because it is a group friends tight enough and partly because when I train, I have my earphones in your ears, listen to violent music, I'm in my world and it shows), which is a change popular perpetual "okay?" agreed to work.
M'entéka, they remind me of these people of Mediterranean origin in Montreal (they were acknowledged by the inventory of a jewelry they wore while training) doing the same thing in our gyms. There the "normal people" are at least majority and girls do not care about their mouths (they generally apply the nickname "Ginos). 'I guess the Ginos just somewhere. I was in their hive.
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