Halloweekend

So, in addition to the Bash Out HIV and AIDS Camp for teens at the end of October 2015, I also got to do some way fun socializing in Khorixas.  There was grilled pizza and chat Thursday night, and the lovely T. gave up her bed to me, pulling off one mattress (she has two, you see) for herself on the floor, otherwise one could never, ever agree to take her bed.  Could one?  (Because, you see, as a hostess she could never, ever agree to let a guest sleep on the floor.  Two mattresses solves the potential impasse, because actually I would never, as a guest, try to boss a hostess around.  Just not done.)  So we had a little bit of a slumber party.  We toured the shops of Khorixas and bought pot-lucky contributions to a collective dinner for Friday night, and had the movie-watching party on Saturday afternoon, with all the kids and our costumes.

Queen of the Vampires - or Zombies? - gets a certificate from Miss America.

And on Saturday night?  We had teased G. all day because of how often she had reminded us that it was her birthday, and occasionally threatened to do nothing to celebrate.  But how could that be?  It was not, of course.

Alcohol sales in shops end at 13:00 on Saturdays in Namibia, and do not resume until 08:00 on Monday.  Our HIV bashing had taken us well past 13:00, so a couple of the PCVs sought a shebeen to buy a few beers and ciders, which we drank in comfortable sunshine as the evening drew toward us.  Then T. supervised preparation of a feast, which included a pan of brownies made with a mix my friend C. had sent from Virginia a few weeks earlier.  The mix brand is 'Among Friends,' which was perfect.  I told the others a bit about C., who is an amazing woman, so they could become her friends in absentia, and she could be with us in spirit.  Lovely to have her.

A. and T., who never met until the former arrived in Khorixas one year
after the latter had, became great friends in a matter of hours.

We frosted the brownies with a can of that pre-made frosting that T.'s mother had just sent her from Texas (well, that T.'s mother had probably sent 6-8 weeks earlier, but that had just arrived).  Then we piled on blueberry-cheesecake ice cream, as the birthday girl was yearning for ice-cream cake.  After our delicious dinner, we plugged in the candles and lit 'er up.

Candles are the most important part of a birthday to me.

Can you see G., getting ready to blow?  She's there -- on the left.

Then we all went out dancing at Club India, in our costumes -- though my face paint had long since glowed away ("ladies glow"), so I was a simple pumpkin, no longer a Jack-o-lantern.  We had a bit of a walk through some residential neighborhoods, and got a lot of funny looks and surprised greetings as we strolled along.

lifeguard, ghost, bad surgeon, pumpkin, butterfly, Miss America

No cover charge at the club, where the music was mostly various forms of electronica played through a sub-par sound system.  (The good sound system was too expensive a rental for a no-cover night.)  There were some fairly young men who did some athletic performance-type dancing - showing off their moves, which were good - and a fairly drunk woman who really wanted to dance with other women, and a group of men who mostly didn't dance but were much more stylishly dressed and coiffed than most men I've seen in Namibia.  In the USA, I might guess they were gay.  In Namibia, many tribes are unaccepting of homosexuality, especially in men.  But Khorixas is often called the capital of Damara land, and the Damara tribe is said to be more open to variations in sexual identity.  I prefer not to draw conclusions on insufficient evidence.

Okay, fine - although those forearms are surprisingly strong.

About this point, I started spinning away.  T. kindly
brought her strong cardboard butterfly wings into play, too.

I love dancing.  I showered when we got home, well past midnight (I had already turned into a pumpkin, so that's all right).  T. and G. said they both like to go to sleep stinking of beer and sweat and strangers.  Scary!