Never Don't Go

I never thought of myself as the type of person who would get into an abusive relationship. I once dumped a guy for excessive bickering and have a joke that I like my men like I like my coffee: sweet, short and weak. Of course, this is not true, I actually like very bitter coffee, but that’s beside the point. I recently realized that I am actually in an abusive relationship with my profession.
I love teaching- I love being in the Peace Corps. Sure, sometimes I go home to my little house where termites are eating my walls and I don’t have a toilet and feel so homesick that I want to cry (and often do), but you just don’t know what it’s like with us. Sure, it sounds bad, but you don’t know how things are between us, really. When it is good, it is really good. I have heard the exact same sentiment echoed by people in bad relationships- when it is good, it is really good.
So, for those of you who wonder why I am still here after reading about my Life Skills class, here is a story about something good.
Last weekend was the 4th of July, so nearly every volunteer I know was in the capital for a barbeque at the ambassador’s house. We booked every bed at the two cheapest lodges in town, and gave them a hell of a time trying to stock enough beer for all of us. When it came to deciding where to go for the night I believe the term ‘herding cats’ is apt.
One group wanted to go to the Casino, but my friend Alexis warned against it.
“Why not?” I asked
“Well, I guess it depends” she said “If you like slutty dancing, and bad music you might like it… when I was there last, the music was all ‘untz, untz, untz, untz,’ and everyone was dancing like ‘ah, ah, ah, ah,’… it really was a one time thing for me”
As amused as I was by Alexis’ full body interpretation of a night at the Casino, I decided to take her advice and investigated the next major headliner of the night, some place called ‘oasis’
“What is there to do at Oasis?” I asked a second year
He just looked me in the eye and shouted “OAISIS”
“Yeah, but is there dancing, is it expensive?”
“Oh-Ay-Sissss”
“Ok, but where is it even?”
“OASIS!!!”
I decided that Oasis was too intense for me, so I went with the group heading out to the Karaoke bar- we hopped in taxis and were off. When we got to the hotel housing this Karaoke extravaganza that was so highly hyped by the only person who had ever been there before, our taxi driver tried to negotiate for a higher price than the one he had agreed upon when he was trying to get us into the taxi. Nope. Sorry dude. Next time you negotiate a price, make sure you are happy with it before you take the inebriated people to their destination. We’re already here- see ya.
The hotel was dead. Like, really, really dead- as in only one member on staff kind of dead. We asked him about the Karaoke, and he smiled and led us up the narrowest stairwell I have ever been on into a private room with a television.
I don’t know about you, but to me, Karaoke is best done in front of a large crowd of people for maximum embarrassment- not in a small room with only people who already know you… what was this? My family reunion (actually… it felt a lot like that, to be honest).
We all giggled about this for a little bit, and Meg said that actual Karaoke bars in Tokyo were in single rooms like this, but I still thought it was strange- that was, until the music started.
Zeb did a move familiar to me as ‘the around the clock’ to get things started, and then all hell broke loose, and we danced like a bunch of 12 year old girls at a sleep over. Someone accidentally broke a glass during a spirited rendition of something like “Tutti Fruti”. It was all over when “A Whole New World” was chosen… aw shit, that’s my jam. Meg cited it as a perfect example of “never don’t go”- and I had to agree.
The ride back to our beds was possibly even more fun as we blasted into “A Whole New World” again on the back of the police pickup truck that agreed to ferry us home. My Detroit Tigers hat flew off, but I didn’t mind too much- there will be more hats.
So for all of you out there who are worried about me- don’t, there will always be dancing. For any of you prospective volunteers trolling around on ‘Peace Corps Journals’ looking for some advice, here it is: never don’t go.