Dinner and a Show

We grudgingly layered as best we could (I dunno, do you think three shirts ought to do it?) with whatever would blend into our costumes, grabbed our jackets, and trudged out into the cold afternoon. Sunlight was streaming through the breaking clouds, thus holding a bit of hope on the horizon.

Let me go ahead and say, for the record, that this was the second most awkward night of my life. I still keep the slot for "Most Awkward" open, but with the faint hope that there will never BE another.

With the promise of hot water and heat on our return later in the evening, our weary group headed down to the area where the buses were parked; we were in full costume, mind you. The most observant amongst us noted, once we were standing still, that no one else was in costume. Needless to say, a few of our conspiracy theorists (myself included) began to mutter about how the Groupo Historico members were probably laughing at us behind our backs.

It should be noted that, no matter what language you speak, laughing at someone behind their back still sounds the same.

Our spirits a little deflated, we jumped aboard the first bus that let us aboard and went to the banquet. We were thankful we could have our jackets -- that way, only half of us looked out of place! Most of the girls looked like they had long dresses underneath their jackets; the poor guys, however, still stood out. *snickers* In any case, the locals thought we were pretty cool. Or, at least, we hope that's why they were pointing at us like that...

There wasn't much of a seating arrangement, but when we got to our table I landed inbetween Patrick and Andrew. I mostly listened to everyone else's conversations as the food came (to be honest, I wasn't feeling well that night, and didn't feel much like talking), but I soon figured out that I really didn't NEED to listen. See, some of the entertainment that evening was a troupe of dancers. Belly-dancers. And I was seated between two guys who were undeniably male. ...and that sounds a lot worse than it really was. I merely got an involuntary glance into the masculine train of thought, and it wasn't much I didn't already know. I can guess what most guys look at.

However, when I heard Andrew "Mmm..." in my ear, I drew the line.

The following dance numbers went by with this commentary flying over my head. Now, I understand Patrick to have a background with a bit of ballroom dancing (and I forgot to ask him to show me how to tango! Gah!), and I think part of his brain was actually watching the dancing for the art of the dance. I also think the rest of his brain was mush at the time, or at least making noises like "Mwaaa...."

Then there was the beauty pagent... and you can guess how that went.

We left the banquet that night with hopes of heat, hot water, and warm blankets back at the campground. But we weren't so lucky -- when we got back, the rooms were freezing cold, and we were still unwashed with no intent of bathing in ice water. That night, we climbed into bed cold, tired, dirty, and in prayer for good weather over the parade.

Ha.