After a very busy week, (which I'll give you the run down later) it's finally Saturday. But there's no rest for the wicked. I had a Dinner nations event at 12, at Mango Tree, and then I was invited to a party at my coworker's house, way over yonder and through the woods.
Dinner Nations:
Dinner Nations is a splinter group of Internations, a slightly younger crowd that meets "outside" of Internations, just to meet up and chat and mingle, over a meal. The meal was at Mango Tree, where they had set up a table for 20 up on the mezz level. I was the first one there, closely followed by a very intense looking guy named Nir. Nir is from Israel, and has a shaved head, large, deeply fringed hazel eyes ( I think they give them out free with purchase over in the Levant) and the cutest lisp I've ever heard. You know how some French speakers have a slight lisp that makes their R's into Ls and same with W? He had this, and he also had that elision that some accents carry- a "z" sound for t.
He sat right down and we started talking- he was a pretty strong conversationalist, and we got along well. The table filled up and everyone started talking, mingling, chatting, eating, and having fun. I met Nir, the girl next to him, a Greek gal named Anna, the man on my other side, Olivier, the man across from me, an Ozzie named David who worked in cosmetic pharmaceuticals and reminded me of someone from Made in Chelsea (he had that superannuated school boy look with *perfect* and I mean perfect, skin and that floppy Englishman hair that they wear so well), and the guy next to David, named Pree (an Asian). There was some other people, too, but of course they were basically too far away to talk to. My friend Rena was actually at the far end of the table and I didn't even see her until the end of the meal, that's how long the table was.
It was actually the second such meal that I've been to, since my life lately has been sitting down to long, long tables of ex pats, playing mah jong for money (and winning!), attending wine tastings, and going to parties where I'm the only white person. Yeah, I'm that asshole on the travel channel who's having the time of their life listening to an acoustic guitar Hindi language sing along.
After the meal at Mango Tree, Nir and I and Anna decided to go to the bookstore (actually Nir invited himself, but that was okay, I welcomed his company). At the bookstore we got some fro yo and just talked for another 2 hours (!!), mostly about the Greek financial crisis (I didn't have much to say) and then parted ways around 5 or so. I drifted off to shop and then ended up at Cav wine bar to have a few half glasses while killing time waiting for Mehul's party to start. He lived just past the shopping plaza I was in, so I didn't want to go all the way back to my apartment and then come back to where I just was, so I cracked open the new Lucky mag and enjoyed some Ferrari Carano and the sunset.
Well, imagine the delight when I saw my mahjong friend Cherie (who I had also seen at the wine tasting earlier that week) and her husband Terry come in! They waved me over to their table and we killed a bottle of Malbec while talking about current events, complaining about poor service and gossiping about the mah jong ladies. That was really cool. It was the kind of event I've been waiting for for the last year or so, as I have hustled to get and keep friends. Finally I am "running into" people I know instead of just wistfully looking at tables of ex pats. Make no mistake, it's work, though.
Fireside Hindi Language Sing a long!
Then on to Mehul's!
Mehul is a coworker that I became friendly with the in the following manner:
On Feb 2 I was broiling my buns out on the poolside terrace in Acaia Estates (where a lot of ex pats live) waiting for Haydn and Dee to wake up, stop bickering, and ATTEND THEIR OWN DAMN BIRTHDAY PARTY (ahem!!), I saw this dude I recognized from around work. Mehul is very distinctive looking: he is will o the wisp thin, with huge, huge, eyes. I mean, comically large. He also has a high forehead, and these two features combined give him a sweetly worried look at all times. Anyway, I waved him over, as I was bored to death and dying for company, and behold, he's super nice. So we chatted and he added me on OCS at work, and so on. We usually have coffee at work about once a week.
Well, cue me asking him, like, every week what he's doing and him being like (super nicely) "I'm super busy!" He is friends with his own gang from his previous job, and they hang out, like, going to Elephant Island and stuff. That's cool, it usually takes a while for Indians to come out of their shell and warm up to you and invite you over- it's not like in America where you meet someone in the parking lot of Sam's Club for the first time, and next thing you know you're at a family barbeque later that day. Heh.
So finally, I get an invite to his house for a party. Whee! I've actually been to several parties in the estates, which are a huge, huge, ( miles large) group of condos on the edge of Pasig. I staggered in, carrying a bottle of wine, and the party was in full swing. Mehul has a wife, Binni, who's as cute as cut buttons, and a perfect match for him, and she was cooking up a storm (of VERY spicy food), and there was three other married couples and two bachelors there. There was 3 kids, two of whom were twins of about 3 years old, with the kind of tousled greek goddess Jean Seburg hair an adult would kill for, and a slightly older child (about 5 would be my guess.) It's kind of hard to summarize the party, except that there was lots and LOTS of hearty "barrel full of ale Robin Hood's Merry Men" singing by the men at little or no invitation (all in Hindi), a sing a long with Mehul on guitar (actually kind of killing it! he was pretty good), some spicy food, some nice conversation which, unlike at Filipino parties, was conducted in English even if i wasn't included, and watching a musical interlude from the Bollywood version of Othello.
I asked the guys to translate the songs and this is what would always happen
Me: "What is it? What are they saying!!"
Nice friend of Mehul or Mehul himself: "Uh, it's kind of racy. Hmm, let's see...it's like "Let's light our cigarette from our neighbors' lighter!"
Me: What are they saying?
NFOM: "Uh, it's a little naughty. It's...how do you say "It's night time, come on over to my house."
Hee hee!!
Well, the party showed zero signs of slowing down around 3, and Mehul offered to let me crash, explaining that there were some party goers that wouldn't be leaving without a dynamite stick under their person, but I just grabbed a cab and dozed all the way home through the empty streets, the last person on earth.
