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Last weekend was the annual fiesta in my hometown. We call it School- en Volksfeest. I'll try to give a short summary, as I won't be able to describe the amtmosphere properly anyway.
The central point is a huge tent in which people tend to drink a lot of beer. Outside there is a funfair, to keep the kids (and drunks) entertained. Still the whole center is aimed towards the party.
Thursdaynight is what we nowadays call the local night. Just people from here amongst each other. I went there with a small hipflask of rum, I don't drink beer, so I have to make my own mix. Quiet night, home at half past one, next morning is the last day at work.
Fridaynight is the big night in the tent. The music is good, not that I listen much, plenty of people to talk with, lots of friends around. Decided to fill a bidon with Rum, 0.2 liter wouldn't be enough I guessed correctly. Great night. Spoke to some nice ladies as well, one I only speak at this place every year, then not again for another year. Another one working with some of my students, nice coincidence. Home at 3, not too bad. I'm not 19 anymore.
Saturdaymorning. Not too difficult to get up. Double the alcohol but half the problems compared to yesterday. Half past 9 I'm at the bar, where we team up for a day of more booze and stupid discussions. The barbecue (=breakfast) has some problems, but getting a bigger one in a taxi is a good idea. I shall spare you the details, but it ends at 1.30 am when there is hardly any of us left, the bar without rum and me leaving with the idea to get some snacks to help me go to sleep. It works.
Sundaymorning. Again the alcohol doesn't do me any problems, hangovers are still for others. The lack of sleep isn't easy though. By 8.30 I have left home and before 9 my hair is done and my face is blue. All preparations for our group participating in the parade on sunday afternoon. It is getting warm and with our faces, under arms and parts of our legs painted, sweating will be difficult. Yet I have to push a big wagon with our queen (we are mutants, hence the blue) on it. 6km is a very long way. Yet we have fun, put on a nice show and the public likes it. The jury less. Only fourth after winning last year. Oh well, nothing we can do anymore. Apart from a few more drinks. Which we do until late.
Can you imagine I was tired on monday?
The central point is a huge tent in which people tend to drink a lot of beer. Outside there is a funfair, to keep the kids (and drunks) entertained. Still the whole center is aimed towards the party.
Thursdaynight is what we nowadays call the local night. Just people from here amongst each other. I went there with a small hipflask of rum, I don't drink beer, so I have to make my own mix. Quiet night, home at half past one, next morning is the last day at work.
Fridaynight is the big night in the tent. The music is good, not that I listen much, plenty of people to talk with, lots of friends around. Decided to fill a bidon with Rum, 0.2 liter wouldn't be enough I guessed correctly. Great night. Spoke to some nice ladies as well, one I only speak at this place every year, then not again for another year. Another one working with some of my students, nice coincidence. Home at 3, not too bad. I'm not 19 anymore.
Saturdaymorning. Not too difficult to get up. Double the alcohol but half the problems compared to yesterday. Half past 9 I'm at the bar, where we team up for a day of more booze and stupid discussions. The barbecue (=breakfast) has some problems, but getting a bigger one in a taxi is a good idea. I shall spare you the details, but it ends at 1.30 am when there is hardly any of us left, the bar without rum and me leaving with the idea to get some snacks to help me go to sleep. It works.
Sundaymorning. Again the alcohol doesn't do me any problems, hangovers are still for others. The lack of sleep isn't easy though. By 8.30 I have left home and before 9 my hair is done and my face is blue. All preparations for our group participating in the parade on sunday afternoon. It is getting warm and with our faces, under arms and parts of our legs painted, sweating will be difficult. Yet I have to push a big wagon with our queen (we are mutants, hence the blue) on it. 6km is a very long way. Yet we have fun, put on a nice show and the public likes it. The jury less. Only fourth after winning last year. Oh well, nothing we can do anymore. Apart from a few more drinks. Which we do until late.
Can you imagine I was tired on monday?
