Zambezians are party people. I still remember how the party culture was important when we lived in Quelimane. Neither time nor socialism could change that way. I was left with that weekend party bug and somehow I passed it to my divers.
Andy’s party started around 10am with a small group of friends in front of the house, a good system to let passing friends know about the party, without having to formally invite them.
I spare you from my verbal tendency by being systematic: 1) Around noon the first group of eight gathered for Brazilian feijoada and barbecue ribs. Yum! 2) It went on and on, always with new people coming and going. Gosh! 3) Party people started to arrive around 6pm. By then our feijoada was still alive. Yipeee! 4) A group of Mozambican girls started to dance at 7pm. A local DJ, Lara, Isis and Seabell danced for a good while. Lara is KT’s girlfriend and Isis is someone else’s girlfriend, besides being JP’s friend. She said: “I miss JP! He always pays for everything!” Ouch! Paul’s comment to this: “Yeh! JP is our magaíça!” Heeheehee! (Magaíça is a Mozambican making money down the mines,)
5) By 9pm the feijoada was barely surviving, complemented with cooked veggies and mixed grills. Scrunch! Slip! Slop! Yum! 6) By the same time, the bottle JP offered has been multiplied by ten, not to speak of the 4 starting boxes of beer, inexistent at 5pm. Aha! 7) Silly observation here: couldn’t people party without drinking and smoking the way they do? Hmmm? 8) Nevertheless, by then I still could dance a second time. Lalalala!
8) After 10pm, shortly after Russia surprised the Netherlands (Oooouuuuch!), I returned to my backyard to find a faceless crowd: maybe 40 people. The football enthusiasts had arrived, a group mainly composed by European friends. I simply couldn’t move. 9) Some time later, I found the girls disperse due to alcohol and the boys half naked. No more dance for me. Aaaaargh! I couldn’t avoid comparing with two years ago, when Andy had to put extra clothes on due to the extreme cold. Talk about global warming! 10) Around 11pm, Andy finally shaves and dresses up to start the usual Saturday party night, as if nothing had happened until then. Heh! Heh! Heh!
11) Shortly before midnight, guard Albert, a genuine Zambezian, turned very bossy after drinking a box of 5 liters of rosé wine, as Andy discovered the next day, and decided to close the doors of the house for “safety reasons”. 12) In reality, I can see now that Albert knew he wasn’t in shape to do his job. It turned out to be a wise (drunken) decision because, to Paul’s desperation (Nooooo!) and my relief (Yessss!), the next morning we missed a huge black statue front the front garden. 13) Due to the city rule “no noise after midnight”, the group moved to some bar or club. Sssssssh!
14) I was up the next morning a little surprised for surviving work (Ouff!), moderated wine (Gloup!), dancing (Tralala!), SA very hot sausages (Slurp!), chocolate cake and bubbling cherries (Yummy!). I looked well and rested. Yeh! 15) You would be amazed with what you can learn with party people, especially party girls. They live in a world of their own. They have little more than parties on their agendas, but what the heck! They are nothing else but the answer to the party boys of this world.
I took note of the following aspects to take in consideration in the future: a) Organizing a different food corner to avoid the distance from the kitchen. b) Introducing party plastic earlier to avoid shattered glasses all over the place. c) Use the food corner as music corner. d) Introduce a fruit corner, once I discovered how apples and oranges are popular among local party people. d) Conceiving another outside toilette to avoid the use of our own. e) Making sure that nothing valuable is left outside. An almost open door party brings all kind of people.
From this experience I learned that my dog Thoth is also a party dog. Grrrrr! Besides assuming a party behavior, he doesn’t drink but suffers from a bad hangover for the next two days. Zzzzzzzz!
The last thing I remember from that night was Paul’s outrage at boozy guard Albert. “Don’t bother!” I said. “They gave him to drink all night. Besides, he is Zambezian and Zambezians are party people.
It was a heck of a birthday party!
(Note: As it is evident, this text evokes Andy’s party and it’s also a pretext to be familiar with a few onomatopoeias.)