birthdaypalooza

Those of you in the know will know that it's not quite my birthday. This did not stop my dinner companion of last night from convincing the staff at the restaurant where we dined to converge upon me, chanting and clapping, until I stood on my chair whilst they sang to me. (The bottle of wine we split may have contributed to this affair, as may have my companion's rapport with the contingent of the staff that comes from Zim.) My dining companion then bought me a celebratory blowjob. (Hm, does that sentence count as inappropriate content?)

Upon walking out of the restaurant, we ran into a couple of the doctors I've been shadowing. They'd been drinking mojitos at the bar, and had heard all the chanting and singing but hadn't realized it was for someone they knew. I assured them the birthday fun had only just begun.

I then wimped out by wanting to go home and sleep off my half-bottle of wine, etc., rather than dancing till 4am. (Yes, Gabs has a dance-till-4am scene, believe it or not.) There's also something about living with: a) a four-year-old; and b) an adult housemate who gets up regularly at 5am, that makes me reluctant to stumble in the door, smelling of god-knows-what, at 3am. The living situation sometimes feels a bit reminiscent of being a teenager, but I do want to be considerate. I did pledge myself to some serious merriment next weekend.

But I am somewhat excused, I think, as I had rolled out of bed early that morning to go on a field trip with the 'teen club' of a local HIV clinic. We drove out to Gabane (a bit west of Gabs), where there's a set of crafts workshops, including a pottery company. The man who runs the workshop led the kids through the process of preparing the clay, using the potter's wheel, and forming figures free-hand, and then turned them loose. The kids (about 20 them, and most on them probably under 15) seemed pretty captivated. The shop will fire the objects the kids made when they're dry, and then the doctors who run the clinic will come fetch them for the kids.