Requisite Drunken Debauchery
Jan. 1st, 2006 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amalthyaI just had to make a new "2006" folder to save this journal entry in. That's trippy!
I don't approve of constant partying, or overly-drunken revelry, but somehow, it all seems okay for New Year's Eve. It's the same principle that condones public vomiting on St. Patrick's Day.
Carol (wisely) decided to stay home, so Eric and I put on our Sunday Best and headed into Kampala around 7:30 pm. After lazing around the whole day, watching Alias. Sadly, plans to go into Kampala and see King Kong were conquered by The Sloth™.
My room is also a disaster, but that's a story for another time.
It was sort of fun, heading out with Eric. New Year's Eve is always one of those nights that's filled with possibilities. Also, despite the constant drunkery, it's one of those evenings that you always remember years later. While on the way to Kampala, I was struck again with this surreal, sort of out-of-body experience as I looked back to last New Year and the years past, once again realizing that I'm in Africa. I'm sure it sounds like I've said this a million times, but living a relatively "normal" life here doesn't usually scream at me "You're living Uganda!"
But looking at the sky -- it's nearly famous, the African sky -- just brings it all into focus again. Did I ever think that I'd be spending a wild New Year in Kampala, Uganda?
... Not in a million years.
Eric and I were surprisingly the only people in the matatu for a while. We sat in the back row, and it was funny, because the matatu driver didn't slow down over speed bumps, which sent both Eric and I flying up towards the roof of the matatu on every hump.
Anyway, I called my friend Julie, who works at Dr. Ian Clarke's "International Hospital" in Kampala, and she said we'd meet up at "Bubbles" the place we love to loathe. We got there around 8:30 pm, and it was just dead. Not a soul there. It seemed very strange to see on New Year's! I guess it was early.
Julia was at Fat Boyz, and Steph was at Ntinda (which, in my dorkery, I read as "Nintendo" in my SMS). So Eric and I chilled at Bubbles, chatting and drinking. Julie showed up with Sharon (who are both in the Week Eleven Photoset) and we laughed more, drank more, and took silly photos.
Bubbles kept getting progressively less cool, and we decided it was definitely not the place to be when the over 50 crowd started streaming in in their pashmina shawls. Julie had read that the Sheraton hotel in Kampala was having a fireworks show, so we decided to hit the Rock Garden which is a club next door to the Sheraton Hotel.
When we got there (all of us already 3 beers in), the queue to get in was a BLOCK long. And the line was totally stagnant. Julie decided to check the other entrance, which is through the Indian restaurant.
Once we got there, there were two waiters barring the entrance, and saying "For restaurant patrons only!" I have no idea what was driving me, but I strut up to them, and wave my hand, saying, "I have a table already! Let me through!" and woa... they do.
So the four of us totally avoid the huge queue, and walk straight into the Rock Garden. Nice!
The Rock Garden was PACKED with people. Literally human sardines. Very sweaty, but we got drinks and danced straight away. I guess people were a little forward on New Year's, because, as Eric is already ragging me about, there were a course of like, 10-15 different men, who, over the duration of the evening, thought it'd be great to dance with me semi-against my will.
Gropes included, no extra charge.
Thankfully, Eric saved me and whisked me away more than once. When he wasn't busy "dancing" with Sharon. Tee hee.
We watched the fireworks, which were pretty cool. It felt very bonded, but I'm sure that's the drinks and dancing talking. I was so happy and felt really safe to be with Julie, Eric and Sharon. Very good vibes.
We decided again that the Rock Garden was maybe a little too crowded for us, and that we'd prefer to go dancing at Rouge. Rouge, while clichéd, is still a fun place to dance.
We get to Rouge, which is PACKED... OUTSIDE and the bouncers at the door are like "You can't come in unless you have a ticket or you're on the list"
Uhh.. crap?
Again, in a move of Brashness of Unknown Origin™, I say, "Kawesa put us on the list".
"Kawesa" is a bouncer at Rouge who Juliasnogged knows, and I've met him maybe 2 or 3 times. He's incredibly nice, but uh, yea. Clearly, you can tell, that he didn't put us on the list.
The bouncer at the door clearly believes me, because how else would I even know a bouncer's name? I see Kawesa coming towards the front door, and I make a rush, pretending like we're long-lost best friends, and he remembers me (it's the hair, I'm sure) and tells the guy to let us all in.
Not only that, but I don't even have to pay the 20,000/= entrance fee. Because I'm a "personal friend of Kawesa"...
We go inside, and we're all pretty much toasted at this point. More dancing ensues, and more inadvertent dance-partnering. Julia shows up eventually, also very drunk. More dancing. Blurriness. Sweatiness. 4 am.
Eric came to me and asked me if I wanted to go home, and I think I might have said "yes" but I ended upsnogging talking to Kawesa instead. When I came back to the group, Julia was dancing, intent on staying out later. She hasn't really come by the house since the whole "incident" [which I can't remember whether I talked about here or not] so I wasn't entirely surprised that she didn't come home with m and Eric.
I somehow managed to haggle a decent price for a cab home, which, on NYE, is surprising. Also surprising, our cab driver wasn't drunk, and Eric and I took one final photo (pictured here) and I collapsed, sleeping on his shoulder, til we got home.
The lake flies were swarming around the security light by the front door when we got home, and drunken laughing ensued as we ran through them, trying to get through without an eye,nose,throat, or ear-full of them. Alcohol didn't help this cause, as the front entryway was slick, greasy on the floor with lake fly carcasses. I ended up falling to my knees, and crawling into the house, closing my eyes tight and holding my breath.
A funny end to a fabulous evening. Eric and I both crashed into sleep around 6 am. And I've spent the entire day, sleeping and being lazy.
Welcome to 2006!
I don't approve of constant partying, or overly-drunken revelry, but somehow, it all seems okay for New Year's Eve. It's the same principle that condones public vomiting on St. Patrick's Day.
Carol (wisely) decided to stay home, so Eric and I put on our Sunday Best and headed into Kampala around 7:30 pm. After lazing around the whole day, watching Alias. Sadly, plans to go into Kampala and see King Kong were conquered by The Sloth™.
My room is also a disaster, but that's a story for another time.
It was sort of fun, heading out with Eric. New Year's Eve is always one of those nights that's filled with possibilities. Also, despite the constant drunkery, it's one of those evenings that you always remember years later. While on the way to Kampala, I was struck again with this surreal, sort of out-of-body experience as I looked back to last New Year and the years past, once again realizing that I'm in Africa. I'm sure it sounds like I've said this a million times, but living a relatively "normal" life here doesn't usually scream at me "You're living Uganda!"
But looking at the sky -- it's nearly famous, the African sky -- just brings it all into focus again. Did I ever think that I'd be spending a wild New Year in Kampala, Uganda?
... Not in a million years.
Eric and I were surprisingly the only people in the matatu for a while. We sat in the back row, and it was funny, because the matatu driver didn't slow down over speed bumps, which sent both Eric and I flying up towards the roof of the matatu on every hump.
Anyway, I called my friend Julie, who works at Dr. Ian Clarke's "International Hospital" in Kampala, and she said we'd meet up at "Bubbles" the place we love to loathe. We got there around 8:30 pm, and it was just dead. Not a soul there. It seemed very strange to see on New Year's! I guess it was early.
Julia was at Fat Boyz, and Steph was at Ntinda (which, in my dorkery, I read as "Nintendo" in my SMS). So Eric and I chilled at Bubbles, chatting and drinking. Julie showed up with Sharon (who are both in the Week Eleven Photoset) and we laughed more, drank more, and took silly photos.
Bubbles kept getting progressively less cool, and we decided it was definitely not the place to be when the over 50 crowd started streaming in in their pashmina shawls. Julie had read that the Sheraton hotel in Kampala was having a fireworks show, so we decided to hit the Rock Garden which is a club next door to the Sheraton Hotel.
When we got there (all of us already 3 beers in), the queue to get in was a BLOCK long. And the line was totally stagnant. Julie decided to check the other entrance, which is through the Indian restaurant.
Once we got there, there were two waiters barring the entrance, and saying "For restaurant patrons only!" I have no idea what was driving me, but I strut up to them, and wave my hand, saying, "I have a table already! Let me through!" and woa... they do.
So the four of us totally avoid the huge queue, and walk straight into the Rock Garden. Nice!
The Rock Garden was PACKED with people. Literally human sardines. Very sweaty, but we got drinks and danced straight away. I guess people were a little forward on New Year's, because, as Eric is already ragging me about, there were a course of like, 10-15 different men, who, over the duration of the evening, thought it'd be great to dance with me semi-against my will.
Gropes included, no extra charge.
Thankfully, Eric saved me and whisked me away more than once. When he wasn't busy "dancing" with Sharon. Tee hee.
We watched the fireworks, which were pretty cool. It felt very bonded, but I'm sure that's the drinks and dancing talking. I was so happy and felt really safe to be with Julie, Eric and Sharon. Very good vibes.
We decided again that the Rock Garden was maybe a little too crowded for us, and that we'd prefer to go dancing at Rouge. Rouge, while clichéd, is still a fun place to dance.
We get to Rouge, which is PACKED... OUTSIDE and the bouncers at the door are like "You can't come in unless you have a ticket or you're on the list"
Uhh.. crap?
Again, in a move of Brashness of Unknown Origin™, I say, "Kawesa put us on the list".
"Kawesa" is a bouncer at Rouge who Julia
The bouncer at the door clearly believes me, because how else would I even know a bouncer's name? I see Kawesa coming towards the front door, and I make a rush, pretending like we're long-lost best friends, and he remembers me (it's the hair, I'm sure) and tells the guy to let us all in.
Not only that, but I don't even have to pay the 20,000/= entrance fee. Because I'm a "personal friend of Kawesa"...
We go inside, and we're all pretty much toasted at this point. More dancing ensues, and more inadvertent dance-partnering. Julia shows up eventually, also very drunk. More dancing. Blurriness. Sweatiness. 4 am.
Eric came to me and asked me if I wanted to go home, and I think I might have said "yes" but I ended up
I somehow managed to haggle a decent price for a cab home, which, on NYE, is surprising. Also surprising, our cab driver wasn't drunk, and Eric and I took one final photo (pictured here) and I collapsed, sleeping on his shoulder, til we got home.
The lake flies were swarming around the security light by the front door when we got home, and drunken laughing ensued as we ran through them, trying to get through without an eye,nose,throat, or ear-full of them. Alcohol didn't help this cause, as the front entryway was slick, greasy on the floor with lake fly carcasses. I ended up falling to my knees, and crawling into the house, closing my eyes tight and holding my breath.
A funny end to a fabulous evening. Eric and I both crashed into sleep around 6 am. And I've spent the entire day, sleeping and being lazy.
Welcome to 2006!
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no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 08:06 am (UTC)Congrats on smoothtalking your way out of lines and cover charges :)
You look very
drunkcute and happy in the picture.And the gropes are ALWAYS free of charge.
And I'm glad you had a good time and got home safe.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-02 09:45 am (UTC)Don't forget to post about your evening as well *prod, prod*
Sweaty
Date: 2006-01-04 03:49 pm (UTC)Re: Sweaty
Date: 2006-01-06 08:40 am (UTC)We're missing you already in Congo. And trust me, we never had a problem getting into Rouge before either :P