Just to be different, this summer we decided to escape the Canadian heat by going to Africa.

Photos here - more to come later!

We're back!

You may have noticed that the dates I put on these entries don't match the dates they appear. That's because I date them when I write them, and put them up in order whenever I reach the internet. Which has been sporadic, to say the least. We're back in Canada now, so I'll be able to upload all of my posts, but I'm going to keep doing it one at a time, dated as when I wrote them.

Sunday night we finally got a chance to go out for some nightlife - something I had wanted to do since we got there. Rupia's wife Betty's birthday is the day after TG's, so it was a perfect excuse. She wanted to get started early, so TG headed out to meet her while I fed Harry and put him to bed. They were planning to meet at a bar called The Loft, and Jennifer and I would call when we were ready to go meet up with them.

First stop ended up being not The Loft but O'Hagan's, an Irish pub where they could watch Liverpool in the Amsterdam Rotterdam tournament. While we were waiting for our taxi, though (he said he'd be 15 minutes, and called after half an hour to see if we were still at home), the rest of the gang was ready to move on, so we headed out to the Chrismar Hotel in Longacres.

I liked the thatched roofs over the patio at the bar at the Chrismar, but really, there was not a lot going on - including no TG et al! I called to see where he was, and he said they were just pulling in, and I should order him a Mosi. We took a seat and started our drinks, but when the girls saw how little action there was - they were hoping there would be some live music, but the stage was empty - it was decided we should drink up quickly and leave.

Next we headed downtown to Chez Ntemba, a nightclub on top of a shopping complex just south of Cairo Road. Cover was 20 pin (a week's wages, for some), but there was a crowd. We find a table not far from the dance floor. At first, it was more of a video show than a proper dj set - but the videos were endlessly fascinating. The speed with which the dancers move their hips! Most of the videos featured semi-traditional moves and clothing - all variations on the chitenge theme, sometimes influenced by hiphop - some featured bizarre twists on the theme (like the one where all of the dancers were dwarves). Finally the videos disappeared (replaced for a while by ads), and the real music began, and of course dancing. While the moves were different, the crowd behaved like a crowd in a bar anywhere - once a few people hit the dance floor it fills, and there are one or two standouts who shake it more than anyone else and like watching themselves and the reaction they get. I was glad I had chosen to wear jeans rather than a skirt - most were in jeans (men and women), only four women in the entire bar were in skirts, and of course my legs are disturbingly white. I hadn't really been out to a bar properly since New Year's Eve 2005 - since then, it's been pneumonia, visiting relatives, pregnancy and baby, so I haven't had the time or energy. This was the first night that TG and I went out without Harry. Being an obvious tourist on top of all that made it an interesting experience for me - how do you behave in a bar? I was out of practice. And, unlike when I was single, I wanted to be inobtrusive, which is extra difficult when you are one of three pasty people in a dark bar. And there is the additional sensation of having a post-pregnancy body - I'm not used to my current shape, and it's easy for me to feel awkward and self-conscious - it's hard to find a balance between wanting to look and dress like my old self, and not looking too sexy - I can fit into my old skirts and trousers - some are even too big on me now - but my tops are all too tight and too low-cut - a problem I never had before! That sensation combined with it being my first night out in ages plus the mazungu factor made it difficult to feel comfortable. I wanted to observe, to watch - not be watched. It did feel great to go dancing again though. I can't believe how long it's been.

Mostly though, I just wanted to look at the other people dancing. Some of the women were in heels, but most of them took off their shoes and danced barefoot. Most fascinating were a trio - two women and a man - who had obviously started early and were endlessly entertaining to themselves as well as to me. The wall behind the dj booth was all in mirrors, and they couldn't take their eyes off themselves.

Several rounds later, it was time to head home - Chipo had to work the next day, Rupia isn't a dancer really, and we were all pretty tired too. We ate some chicken from a vendor at the club and went in search of a taxi - our regulars were well asleep by this point. There were dozens of men milling about outside the club, all saying taxi, taxi, where are you going? And eventually we settled on a far with one, although there was still a dispute at the end of the trip as he though we didn't make it clear just how far we were going. But at the end of the night, I was just so happy to sleep that I didn't care.

rant updated 7 august 2007. permalink

old

For those who don't check in every day: you can now join the mailing list by clicking here to send me a blank email with SUBSCRIBE in the subject header. You'll receive rare and infrequent emails when something exciting happens.

www.smartygirl.net is hosted by 1&1