I Should Have Worn Green

Last Saturday the Irish Embassy in Maputo put on a formal ball to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. A big group of our friends attended the gala, lured by the promise of free Guinness and Bailey's all night plus a multi-course meal and dancing. Okay, the boys didn't care so much about the dancing bit, but that was what attracted me, together with the chance to put on pretty clothes and lots of makeup. I even got my nails done and a new haircut for the occassion.

(Side note to those of you that commented on my bangs in the last post: I have much more noticeable bangs now. I went back to the same woman to get a haircut - just a trim, mind you - but this lady is incapable of replicating a haircut or being subtle with the scissors. No matter what I ask for, I always walk out with a totally new hairdo, most of the time much shorter than what I'd bargained for. Luckily for me, I am super easy going with my hair. You can just about do anything short of shaving it or dyeing it brassy blonde and I'm cool. So yes, my hair is shorter with lots more bangs and some very short layers on top. I kind of felt like Elvira for a while there, but now I'm used to it and am acutally loving the new style!)

Anyhow, back to the Irish gala, it was so fun to get dressed up. I think this is the first time I've ever worn formal attire in Mozambique, so it was an exciting opportunity to get out one of the long dresses and stilettos that have been lurking in my closet for 2 years, just waiting for a turn in the limelight. I wore this long white Grecian-style dress with a panel of gold detail just below the chest, with a sky-high pair of copper heels. With my new hair, I was totally feelign like Aphrodite!

But I should have known better. Anytime you wear white, you're asking for it. My reminder of this came not 5 minutes into the Guiness and Bailey's reception on the (extraordinarily windy) terrace of the Rovuma Hotel. We'd all gone to the outside bar to grab a drink. Rico and Erik ordered pints of Guiness; I already was sipping on a shot of Bailey's. The bartender served a full glass of dark beer and handed it to Erik, who was standing upwind from me. Just then, a tremendous gust of wind blew across the terrace. The top quarter of Erik's beer went airborne and splattered all across the front of my white dress. I was COVERED in Guinness.

I ran to the bathroom inside and madly began tearing off lengths of cheap toilet paper, wetting them under the sink, and scrubbing at my dress as if my life depended on it. It was a tough process. The wet toilet paper kept disintegrating mid-scrub, leaving my chest covered in little rolls of paper that looked disturbingly like dandruff. The fabric in my dress was impressively thirsty, soaking up what seemed like liter upon liter of water without any change to the light brown beer stains. After about 15 minutes and some very curious stares and questions from the other ladies in the bathroom, I was able to get the Guiness out to my satisfaction.

Then came the next problem. At this point my white dress was completely soaked in front, rendering the fabric 100% transparent. With no absorvent hand towels in sight, I did what any resourceful girl would have: I hit the button on the hand dryer and assumed a half-limbo pose, offering up my wet chest and stomach to the hot jet of air. If the comments and stares from the ladies were odd before, imagine now! I slow-motion shimmied under the hand dryer for another 10 minutes until I was confident you could no longer see straight through my dress, then headed back to the party. By this time, I'd totally missed the cocktail reception and found Rico, Erik, Jenny and Tracy just as they were sitting down to dinner in the ballroom.

The rest of the evening was uneventful in comparison. We had a nice meal followed by some fabulous chocolate mousse, drank a dangerously assorted variety of beverages, bought raffle tickets and then drank some more when we didn't win, then danced to a live band until we were worn out and ready for bed. All in all, an enjoyable night despite the fact that I feel somehwat out of place with the donor/diplomat crowd, and had a couple of Lords of Poverty moments observing the whole gala...

And who knew there were so many Irish people in Maputo? I'll admit I was shocked.