We walked through the quiet streets of Kibagabaga and arrived to a nice little simple house on a bit of a hill. Robert's wife is beautiful and very kind and sweet. Her English wasn't great, so we spoke French occasionally so she could be part of the conversation. The little girl was absolutely adorable. I think she was about one years old, and she really enjoyed jumping around.
The meal was extreme! I thought we'd really just have some rice and beans, a simple lunch. But Robert's wife pulled out all the stops for us - Rice, chips, plantains, boiled meat in a spicy sauce, and cassava leaves. The cassava leaves were kind of stewed like the Indian dish, saag. It was very much like spinach, with a creamier taste to it. The meat was...well, the meat here seems to be mainly liver, which I personally find unappealing. But the sauce was nice! Oh, and Fanta. I didn't realize we'd be eating like kings, and I ate a hearty amount, in part to be polite and in part because I was hungry. But oh man, in hindsight, I stuffed myself silly.
His wife ended up pulling out mangoes and pineapples for us to eat for dessert, and I didn't know what to do! I was so stuffed I felt like I could literally pop! I had a slice of mango and nursed it for a while before we went to work again.
While walking, of course people stared at the white chick with a bunch of black chick. I guess they will forever be surprised to see me. These little kids saw me and shouted out, "Good morning!" "How are you?!" "I'm fine, teacher!" It was sweet, and I played along.
So anyways, this post is supposed to be about clubbing.
I'm not one for clubbing. I don't particularly enjoy getting sauced and having strange people rub up against me. And I really have no intention on getting any sexy time while I'm here if it's not with The Man. I love dancing, so I do go out sometimes, but the rest of the bar culture I really don't find enjoyable. Give me salsa classes and a wine tasting any day.
My housemates and I went out around 10pm to meet up with Denise. Apparently, in Africa you don't go out on the weekends until very late. Very late. But we took a taxi and picked up Denise so we could go to a bar in a swanky restaurant called Zen. We walked down a pretty little grove and past a gate to the restaurant, but it looked empty. I knew it said the closing hours were nigh.
The bar was very nice and outside, under a big thatched roof. Something I love about being here is the restaurants are almost always outside, it seems. You eat outside, because it's so nice! And the weather is always perfect. There were nice leather lounge chairs and mood lighting throughout the outdoor bar. But there were no people there! I was very perplexed, and I began to ask, is it really Friday?? Where are the people? From what I understood, Rwandans liked to party. But I was assured that this was not customary, and after we had our drinks, we'd go to the next place. I had a Mirinda Fruity, which is like loganberry soda.
We walked through the very nice area to get to the club, and of course I stopped traffic. I really did. I better watch out, or all of this attention will get to my head!
The next club was called K Club. I was told it used to be B Club, but they recently changed management and name. And what a creative change it was.
It was a nice place. Very clean, and very white. It wasn't a dark club like the ones I'm used to - it was lit nicely with lots of laser lights, fog machines, and glowing pink balls. They had TVs all over the club with music videos to the songs playing. That was interesting to me, and I noticed that people often would get lost on the dance floor, watching the videos. I will admit I found myself lost as well. I'm not sure how I feel about that aspect of the club, but hey! I at least got to note a few fun things that I think The Man and I should do together.
The music was part Caribbean, part African, and part regular Universal pop/rock songs. But it was perplexing because not everyone was dancing, but lounging on the side. Here I was thinking, but I thought Africans had the need to dance all the time like me! Granted, the crowd was a bit older - most people looked like they were in their late 20s, 30s, and 40s...and there was a good handful of white folks there (and we all know white folks can't dance)...but I mean, come on! Get the booty to shake! Prosper assured me that that was not a common atmosphere for a clubbing - he didn't like it there.
But hey, I shook my booty, and I had a good time with my friends. I don't think people could understand me because I don't really dance like a black girl, but I definitely don't dance like a white girl. I'm somewhere in between.
2am came around, and my fun was diminishing because my tiredness was increasing. So we decided to go back home. Well, Denise wanted to stay, but the housemates and I went home. Crazy - while we were leaving the club, a SLEW of people were coming in! Apparently the party just began!!! I don't know...I am not sure I could ever be officially African with their crazy partying hours...
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