I knew this place was whack but I could never imagine how whack. My mind is going into overload. So much to do, so many places to see, so many people to meet!
Last Wednesday I went to masquerade, that proved to be a lot of fun. Even the whole process of getting dressed, then hiding your party-mode style under an Abaya and feeling like a criminal sneaking around the city not trying to catch the attention of anyone to go to a secret house behind massive walls, put on your Venetian-style green and gold mask, and sneak down into a decadent basement where there’s a full blown party.
The absurdity of life here is what’s the most intriguing. Sitting in a car outside a restaurant (in the back-seat of course), covered in this black mass, not allowed to enter the restaurant because of your sex, but instead waiting happily with the rest of the women lined up in cars outside.
Why do I always live in places that turns out to be like experiments in social anthropology?