Ode to Hof Ter LindenI´m dancin´ in the rain
Just dancin´ in the rain,
What a glorious feeling,
Squishy mud soaked kung-fu shoes make.
I´m laughing at Wyness
Wet T-shirt reveils boobies but no pinis,
Theres a chill in my heart
And I´m ready for a Kriek.
Let the stormy clouds chase.
The crowd from the place,
Come on with the rain
You can't handle my face.
I´ll walk down the two mile lane
With a happy disdain
Thru giant puddles soaked rain.
Dancing in the rain.
I'm happy again, with a Kriek in my hand.
Distorting my brain.
No more dancin', dancin' in the rain.
All I Hear are Raindrops......falling on the rooftop...here comes the rain again falling on my head like a memory...blame it on the rain that was slowly falling...down came the rain and washed the spider out.
As a kid did anyone ever tell you that if you kill a spider that it would rain? I want to know who the mofo was that went on a spider murdering spree on day 6. I mean, DAMN!
The morning of Sunday Aug 13 was spent getting ready for our Rural performance at the open air Hof Ter Linden. As we prepared we traded stories, Randy mentioned how our performance gave someone important goose bumps, Jenilee and Pam told of how we were bringing the diversity the organizers had always hoped for when they first started the Festivals. And when we were ready to roll...we had to wait. Hof Ter Linden is the land of some Baron and we had to walk there but that day the skies opened up and the rain was unbelievable. The drops were the size of water balloons. I'm telling you it was biblical, like day one of the forty days and forty nights before we had to board an ark. Wyness entertained us with his wet t-shirt moment, I'm telling you that it's not as sexy as it sounds. Pam and Melissa entertained us with a stirring bongo rendition of 'officially missing you' as we all just chilled on the stage. Then when the rain stopped being ridiculous we made a break for it en-masse.
All I have to say is that $1.50 CAD kung-fu shoes don't provide the support or protection from puddles and mud as one would think. How do those ninja's do it? Another thing I have to say is that this Baron Von Linden must have been a total baller to have half the city as his private lands. His drive way is attached to the city centre. We walked thru the city past Pita palace, across the city square (which is approximately round) and down this drive way that looked like something straight out of the opening of a horror flick.
Scene: Our hero has to lead his band of WWII era dressed Filipino refugees down a 2 mile cobblestone drive way with scary sounds coming from the forrest on the right with moonlight leaking thru the line of trees separating the drive from the darkness of the fields beyond...
Beyond his giant driveway was his giant gate. Beyond his giant gate was his giant courtyard. Beyond his giant courtyard was his giant house and past that was another drive around his giant lake and thru his giant Forrest to a giant open field were there was this cool ass open air stage set up. Basically my and everyone else's kung-fu shoes were ruined. I thought Marc was smart wearing his hi-tops, that is until I found out later that he had ruined those. As we waited in and around our tents we got to get ignored by Sicily some more and the poperazzi followed Pam and Mer around. Hungary perfomed with us that day. Then it was time to dance.
The performance went by with out incident, unless you count Pam loosing her wrap almost immediately (which was later immortalized in a picture in my newspaper) or Randy crushing his wrapped candle glasses together trying to save his head glass from falling (which fell anyway) or Wil wondering where the hell on this flat stage he managed misplace his other hand glass (Edric punted it off) or the magicians having to stand up leaving the mics and move onto the stage during tinikling or getting trapped on stage after the performance because it was too dangerous to leave. So it was pretty much uneventful.
We had that evening off and our host family took Pat and I to the light festival in Reet. Apparently Reet means 'ass' and our host sister being from Reet and with a last name of Von Reet is actually literally 'from ass'. The Light festival was amazing. The city of Reet closes down this whole neighbor hood and sets up beer gardens and stages all over the place. The houses dress up their lawns with a series of puzzles. Example. One house had a series of clues arranged around what looked like a women with her legs open showing off her Pek Pek (Vagina Monologues) and another that featured a smoking jacket, a picture of Bugs Bunny and a bunch of women named June, April, and May (Hugh Hefner). The idea being you strolled around figuring out as many as you could. I figured out 3 out of the 4 we stopped at. I'm a genius eh? And the final stop was a giant tent where Marlies dance troupe was helping host a dance festival. I learned a bunch of dances including the Jig. I can now dance the Jig. Hungry taught a few dances. I also learned what was supposed to be an erotic European dance, it was pretty lame. Obviously these ppl have never seen the tango or any Latin dances. A few of the super hot Russian women were there and I tried for about 10 mins to engage them in convo (how the frak did those Panamanian guys do it?)
As mentioned previous this was the second night I didn't get any sleep, but it will be the first time I tell you why. Apparently the night of La Noche I kept Pat up all night with my snoring so he decided that it would be smart if he should fall asleep first and the best way was for him to read himself to sleep. So I'd close my eyes as he read in bed with the lights on and I would wait for him to fall asleep so I could turn off the lights and fall asleep myself. Unfortunately Pat sometimes liked to walk around downstair in our room all night before attemting to sleep. The first time I didn't mind, payback I suppose. But after a few days of this I was going batty. At the time I felt it was fair considering how my snoring was apparently pretty bad. Much later during our back packing I asked some of the others if my snoring is really bad and apparently Pat was just being OA about it. Now I find the reading in bed episode slightly inconsiderate on his part. Perhaps my snoring was just bad that one time when I was passed out after La Noche but still that was like our 5th night there.
Rhoel.
The Morning After......is usually one sleep after la Noche before.
So I woke up from a wonderful dream that day five. As it turns out it would be my last good night sleep. So I get up and go about my business as usual. By this time Pat and I are well into our habit of sleeping through breakfast, in time to get ready in time for lunch and off to work. Have you had a dream so vivid that at some point the next day you momentarily wonder if it really happened? All that next morning I kept getting that sneaking feeling that something significant happened and I missed it.
Off to Festivalhal for costumes and props and then a ride with Walter to Hotel Ter Elst for stage blocking and run through. When I arrived I was leary of looking anyone in the eye just in case I did something wrong la noche before because usually when I wake up with alcohol induced amnesia I generally assume my brain is saving my sanity from some sort of trauma. Sicily was doing a run throu, I don't know why considering they were doing the same show...yet again...and I found it slightly tragic how BMOC had to illicit "applause" on cue. Even from spot in the middle of the theatre I was getting a weird vibe coming from the stage. This is the morning when BMOC stood in Iris's face when she was practicing Sinkil in the hall and stared her down. One version I heard had her calling him a 'shite head' under her breath but she kinda denied it when I asked her. When our time came to mount the stage I tried to approach Alyssa but she sort of just shook her finger at me and mouthed 'bad boy' as she smiled and walked away for the last time. As it turns out that would be the last I would make eye contact with her. Iris told me that Alyssa gave me a really evil look when I turned around. BMOC tried to eyeball me but I just brushed right past him like he wasn't there. It was at this point I tried to remember wtf happened the night before. As it turn out I remembered what happened the night before but apparently it was more of a big deal than I remembered. Apparently I was remember the Cliff's Notes version. Even Claudio wouldn't talk to me, normally that dude is a chatterbox. I started to get the feeling that BMOC ripped into his dancers because of the night before.
The run thru was fine, I noticed the bamboo's sounded awesome on the stage. I also noticed at some point that there were a lot of dancers from the other groups and various other ppl in the theatre and they were applauding us as if we were already performing. We left our stuff there and we went back to festivalhal, Cristina and a few others even tried to walk back when we were left short of rides. They eventually got picked up.
Because there was limited space at the theatre the groups got bussed back and forth in shifts. Prep at the Hall, bussed to the theatre, performance, then bus back. That day we actually did a meeting in costume on the bus. We performed Gala that night for old people. From what I remember we killed it. I think that was the performance that really got people buzzing about KP. We started getting accolades from the theatre director saying we were the most professional group. We were told how it was professional how we could party all night, but know when to turn it on at performance time, things of that sort. That was also the day that Edric became even more annoying than usual making yet another big deal about the pandango glasses. At least he wasn't making a big deal out of the Med kits. It was at this point I felt I may actually kill Edric at some point during our group backpacking trip after the tour.
After bussing back to the Hall most of the group went there separate ways, but a few of us chilled at the side of the hall using our free drink passes drinking and gossiping. Me, Pat, Pam, CC, Eye, Crispy, Jenilee, Jamille, RomeHo...I'm sure there were a few others did some chillaxing. We went over what happened the night before mostly, they filled in my memory gaps. Pat couldn't find enough people to tell how I slept snoring a storm the night before with an evil smile on my face, scratching myself (not what you think, but suggesting what you're probably thinking. Memorable moments: Pretzel Sinkil and Vinta. Boy Friend/Girl Friend. Re-inactment of Jamille in the box. Beer differential count plus one. This is the night that I found out Romeo was also counting the different types of beer he was trying and he was beating me by like five. I decided that I would close the gap even if it would deprive me of my Kriek. While we were chillin like villains BMOC was holding court in what looked like a very intense meeting. What a tool.
On the way home I ran into Claudio and he started telling me that Italian girls didn't give up the goods. At first I didn't know what the hell he was talking about because I just assumed it was a lost in translation moment till I figured out that he was talking about Alyssa and that she wasn't pleased about my performance the night before which I found ironic because part of the reason I started boozing hard core the night before was becaue everytime I went to talk to her she was glued to every other Italian dude, which slightly upset me in my inebriated frame of mind. My answer to the situation? Drink more! This actually works for many situations. Which further distorted my point of view. It's a vicious circle. Now that I think about it I may have been wrong about that whole thing. So that closed the chapter on that. Very regrettable. Not what I did because I did what I did and I did it. Regrettable because there are better ways and other ppl I'd rather waste my time on. I was under the impression that there would be other chances to socialize but as it turns out that was it.
I really got to get thru blogging about the tour so I can get onto the more interesting stuff that happened backpacking. Later on this week I'll try to knock out the rest of the tour real quick like 'cause I'm loosing my motivation and I'm having a harder time remember why back then.
Rhoel.
-We're caught in a trap
I can't walk out
Because I love you too much baby
Why can't you see
What you're doing to me
When you don't believe a word I say?-
Suspicious Minds- Elvis Presley
The NightLa Noche. A night like no other, preceded by a day like no other. I qualify that last statement because I will never do the things I did that day in exactly the same sequence. This day was Aug 11th.
The day started off with Spanish. From what I remember of this performance was mostly about the Russians. I remember the Russian guys standing in the wings with us making fun of our Jota hats (just because you're talking Russian it doesn't take a genius to read your body language and actions), and I also remember them shutting the fuck up as soon as we started dancing. BTW, wtf were you doing in the wings mofo? I also remember all the Russians chillin backstage when we were all quick changing. My most delicious moment was when these three guys were chilling all over my quick change area and I ran at them yelling 'Get out of my fuckin way please!'. I said please. It was funny watching them dive for cover saying 'Sorry!' I wasn't even in a quick change I just wanted their arrogant asses out of my frackin way! As for the show itself, I was a little disappointed. Not at the execution, but at the reception. I genuinely feel that Spanish is the show stopper mother flucker. Spanish is the measuring stick. Spanish is the test of ones skills. My feeling was that Jota Manilenia should have floored them but instead it was just slightly interesting. It wasn't till much later that I figured out that they've probably seen something similar and the crowd seems to be impressed with the more exotic of our dances. It was at this time I also figured out that our magicians rock, Spanish is the hardest to play. I love the music for Spanish. I also realized that all European folk music sounds like clown/circus music.
After the show my host family took Pat and me to the city of Lier. When one thinks of Europe one thinks of cities of canals and Lier was the first city where I saw a canal. My first of many. Virgin no more. The city was so old world beautiful. Myself, Marlies and Pat explored the clock tower (a tower I mistakenly thought was featured in 'The Long Way Around'). I tried this famous Lier pastry, (honestly I can't remember it specifically) and I tried a Lier based beer that tasted yucky. Beer differential is approx 6.
So let the night begin. When I first heard of La Noche in the tour notes I just thought it was another party on the side stage for performers and festivalists. I knew we'd eat some Spanish rice, but I thought it would be low key. Who knew it was a huge party at the beginning of a festival? Well it was Friday, and apparently Friday was the night.
La NocheIn my experience, if I can't remember something...it probably didn't happen unless my imagination made it up. Therefore, most of what I heard about La Noche is myth. It's like everyone knows someone that knows someone that's seen a Sasquatch, but nobody has actually seen one. BTW I've seen one. I think it's written in the 'Guy Code' that if one can't remember something then it didn't happen. Alcohol induced amnesia or no. So, video evidence and key eye witness accounts decree that I had a ridiculously good time.
I rolled into festifalhal quite surprised that it was packed and that the seats were arranged into tables. Next I was slightly embarrassed that I was wearing the same stinky outfit since right after the performance. So as the party started I kept on my hot ass micro fleece as long as possible that probably caused me to sweat off a few pounds. And then it was on. I threw myself into the spirit of things mind body and soul. Then the spirits started to catch up to me as I lost my mind and sold my soul.
I remember drinking heavily. I remember Eye ordering 3 bottles of wine at one time. I slightly remembering my host brother giving me advice on some shite or other. I remember the "Cheers committee". I remember altering my ordering sign to give everyone 'the finger'. I remember my last happy moment with Alissa. I remember parts of Mafia GF and her hairy eye-balled bf that she introduced me to. It was at some point between Alissa and throwing myself on the granade that turned out to be Mafia that things start getting fuzzy. I remember Lyrical Randy. I remember rag-doll Mer. I remember serenading someone. I'm remembering it being Pam, but apparently I sang to Marlise at some point too so it may have been all her. I remember having the fricken time of my life. So basically La Noche is a myth.
And then I woke up from a wonderful dream.
Rhoel.
