Boite de nuit (Saturday, 2010 July 31)

August 3, 2010

So, yeah, another Saturday with predictable consequences. I think I alienated a lot of stagiaires tonight, just because I called them cockbags or condescended to them. Oh well.

We got to see the nightclub here in Bafia. They hadn’t officially opened, but Jenny and I went in to take a look. It looks.. pretty much like a cool concert scene would look in NYC. Entrance fee is generally 3500 CFA per person ($7). That’s a lot of lunches, so I guess it’s pretty expensive. Instead we mostly hung out at a bar nearby, "chez Martin".

I worry about Jessica W., who is in that state where "everyone is loved except for me". Not an awesome place to be. I mean, she says she likes dark-colored skin, so more power to her. But I don’t want her to accept some random local’s marriage proposal just because. I would like to trust her, because she seems like she has some inner strength, but I worry nevertheless. I think this is part of why I am condescending.

At one point I wanted to be outside and just sulk a bit about how I miss Gus and how the music isn’t right and how there’s no point in dancing to Beyonce. The lights from the nightclub were really pretty somehow, and there are oh-so-many stars. Jenny came out and we talked about how screwed up it is that we’re here, and whether we’re gonna fail out. Why are we here again? For Jenny I think it’s about a challenge, about proving to yourself that you can do it. And me I’m here because I wanted to work on something once in my life that had an impact beyond myself, and I thought this was my best option. But if you hate kids, if you don’t wanna be a teacher?… In those moments when it was quiet I searched for a song to quote, something that evoked happy times, but I came up blank. Do Gus and I have "a song"?

Claude has been macking hardcore on one of the Lindsays. They were even holding hands tonight as we weaved our ways back home, first dropping off Timothy and Jenny, and finally myself, while Claude went to make sure Lindsay made her way home. I’m proud of them, somehow. I think this is another reason I’m condescending. I wanted to make the same shocked-face-with-finger-mime-fucking gesture that Marian made to me when Gus pulled me into a dance that first time, but nobody would get it.

It’s not that I’m whimpering, exactly. I don’t hate it here. It’s true that there’s a lot to do, and that I miss everyone back home, but I was preparing myself every time I sang to myself this song:

Why can’t we just stay where the ocean is warm all year?
Fruit hangs from the trees, do just what you please,
And nothing is the same
The sun rolls down the beach
Sand gets in your eyes
Lean in for the kiss, our tans astound the crown
And nothing is the same
— World of Science, "cancun ’89"

And, after all, why can’t we just stay where the ocean is warm all year? I still don’t really know. Maybe I’ll put that on the exam for 3e.

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