I've lost my youth....my party-gene....my ability to go out on a non-school night....
And you'd think I would be more sad.
The weekends for us here in Sudan are Friday/Saturday and I can never quite get used to it. Most of the posts I have been to have been in one middle-eastern country or another, so the typical weekend is either Fri/Sat or Thurs/Fri and I have yet to adjust. Initially, I feel like I am getting away with something because I don't have to go into work on a weekday. I'm super happy to sleep in on that day (it's like I'm ditching work, it’s MUMTAZ).
However, Sunday comes and my giddiness fades into a combination of guilt and outrage. (Not, however, unspeakable outrage -- because that would be overreacting.) Although truth be told, there were MANY Sunday's I didn't make it to church back in the States, I would usually plan some sort of excuse to have handy just in case my mom called me on it -- and don't think she won't.
That lady has a way of sneaking up on you. She doesn't even say it outright, she's got mad skills! She'll make some random comment and you'll start to wonder if God is all pissed because he had something to tell you on Sunday, but you skipped it because you went to the Divine Nail Salon with Liz. I mean, I'm not a heathen! I would make deals -- deals like...well, I'll say my prayers while they scrub my feet -- let's be honest, I'm gonna be there a while -- and the name is DIVINE Nail Salon, clearly God is involved in there somehow/someway. Plus, God doesn't want me to have disgusting feet. That would scare the kids and you know that God loves ALL children...
However, I digress. After the outrage you feel that you are not currently sitting in Church (or the Nail Salon) you realize that work is BORING when nobody is there to harass you from Washington DC. It literally forces you to get things done. There is nobody to talk to on the instant messenger. Unable to pretend to be typing work related nonsense, you have to type real work stuff (and I think I've been pretty clear about how I feel about working! Clearly, it’s not for me.)
But back to my loser-status. Last night we were invited to a party at a guy's house (whom I think worked for the UN -- or it might have been some cell phone company -- or maybe it was USAID or the Brits. I wasn't really listening) here in Khartoum. Naturally, I demanded that I drive so that I can start to learn my way around at night -- which is in no way the same as during the day. In all seriousness...Khartoum literally changes when it gets dark. Stores that were supermarkets are coffee shops. I swear they even put up different signs. It's rude, frankly, to those of us who don't know where the hell we're going!
Anyway, after they gave in and let me drive, I realized that I forgot the map of where we were going. So, like true government employees -- we decided to wing it! What could possibly go wrong?! We knew it was across from this Ethiopian restaurant, but just past some type of boutique. What more could you need, right??
Now I realize you guys are all cringing in horror, thinking that we ended up in the Breakaway Republic of Puntland (dude! I totally didn't make that up. Someone named themselves that!) However, we FOUND it. We literally drove around and found a house with a bunch of UN cars parked out front (graciously, the UN paints huge letters on the side of their cars, for ease of finding their parties).
It was packed. There was music, dancing, sushi (I know, I was too chicken to go there. Sudan is hot and Khartoum does not seem to be anywhere near the port) and even booze.
I hated it. Luckily, we all did. We left after like 30 minutes. And it wasn't even a school night.
If I decide to take up cross stitching, someone please schedule an intervention.
Get thee to an independent bookstore.
1 hour ago