It's not what we're drinking, it's the pink shirts we are wearing

After some eventful weekends, I was ready for a quiet weekend in Moshi, buy some shoes (mine are falling apart), read a book, talk about my feelings with the wife etc, you know boring weekend stuff.

Then an Arusha volly sent through an invite to an open air dance event on the outskirts of Arusha for Saturday Night. Entry was free, you just had to wear something pink. I was kinda umming and ahhing, mke was resolutely out but happy for me to go, then I got offered a ride with an American mate into Arusha so it was on. I grabbed my trusty pink 'Funky Chick' pencil case/wallet of '99 and off I went.

Hooked up with the other kiwis in Arusha for lunch at the 'Big Bite' a homely Indian restaurant. Nice butter chicken. Not so nice chillis. Some attention seeking stunts like devouring a whole chilli are better in theory than execution. Big ups to Nico who ate a solidarity chili so I wasn't the only chimp crying my eyes out in pain at lunch.

One of us needed to meet a colleague at Via Via, a local outdoor bar/cafe, so me and another kiwi went to the next door Arusha Museum of Natural History. Past two resident (and monstrously ugly) Maribou storks and into a lot of dusty displays, stuffed animals and faded explanatory notes. I'm still not into recreations of hominid life. Creepy apes. I did want to steal the stuffed Buffalo and drive through Arusha with it on the roof rack...

After that pit stop for knowledge, we headed to a local market to buy more pink apparel. I loved how the stall operators starting frantically pulling out and displaying all their pink clothes when it was apparent what items the kiwis were there for. Bought a 'San Antonio' emblazoned hot pink figure hugging tee shirt...will come in handy when I have a beer at the Victoria Tavern at Petone on my return.

Grabbed copious amounts of ridiculously cheap, sugar cane derived alcohol AKA Konyagi, mixers and headed to a Kiwi's flat for pre-drinks. Now, some people who know me well may be aware that er....sometimes I don't always pace myself in an ideal manner for a long night, if you know what I mean. I did love how a 23 year old kiwi girl was advising this 32 year old to alternate water and alcohol and take it slower...you can take the boy out of Petone etc.

So soon I was having a jolly old time, challenging people to arm wrestling (after I lost 6 times in a row, the last one to a 19 year old kiwi girl, I gave up), remonstrating with someone who dared cut off U2's 'One Tree Hill' mid song ('It's about New Zealand! I was having a moment!') and having lots of deep and meaningfuls. We are all a thoughtful bunch, us Kiwi volunteers. I enjoy our alcohol enhanced conversations about life, directions, making a difference etc I have hope for my country, talking to those enthusiastic, life loving kids. Brings a smile to this sad old public servant's face.

The night was drawing on and so we jumped in a taxi and went off to find the dance event...the thing was, we couldn't find the bl**dy thing. Despite one of us already being there and valiantly trying to direct us, we were lost in the backwater of Arusha. All wearing pink. We finally flagged and headed back into town towards Maasai Camp, a large night clubb-y complex.

I made a rare, mature decision and decided to call it a night. I was feeling a little under the weather. So me and another kiwi rolled back to base to get some sleep. Woke up about 630am, got in touch with the other Kiwis (who had stayed out all night) and met them at Damascus, a local Cigar and Shisha Bar and Brunch Place. I was staggered by their energy. These kids had been up all night partying and looked fine, munching breakfast. Liked how they had picked up some random Arusha-ite to hang out with us, a mumbling, gesticulating woman with a perchant for the phrase 'Ooo la la'...Arusha.

I felt decidedly green and was not much fun to hang out with. Got a ride to the bus terminal, napped most of the way back to Moshi and went home to face the music.

So while I realised I cannot match the pace of people 10 years younger than me in either partying or arm wrestling, I had some fun times, deep talks and now have a fetching new pink shirt.

Plus I heard later, the dance party was lame...12 people in a field, none wearing pink.

Now, hopefully NEXT weekend will be quiet.