Last night I witnessed the most bizzare nightlife fusion- karaoke in Antigua. As many of you know I am a karaoke efficianado. I´ve sung karaoke at many bars in many cities. The process is almost always the same, and the ediquit is fairly straight forward- you pick a song and when it comes up you sing it. Being a fan of karaoke I was stoked when a few of my classmates mentioned yesterday that there was karaoke that night at club Dos Mil (2000). Since I´ve been feeling isolated from my classmates (because they are all very young and usually about five minutes into listening to them spout off about their twenty-one-year-old views of the world I feel old and irratable) I also figured it would be a good opportunity to bond. However, evidently in Antigua karaoke is 40 percent karaoke and 60 percent spring break. As we pushed into the densely crowded bar a group of college-aged girls were standing on the tables singing a sloppy rendition of something cliche. We sqeezed past the hordes of bro-y white dudes and twenty-something girls and attempted to reach the bar. I started looking for a karaoke book and the karaoke host. The host was no where to be seen. In fact there seemed to be no order or rules to the karaoke. It was just drunk groups of people crowded around the microphone. Was this some kind of karaoke Anarchy? Finally I found someone who explained to me that the bartender also acted as the host. So I scrawled some of my standards on slips of paper and handed them over, happy to know it was not in fact a karaoke free-for-all.It took over an hour and a half for my song to come up. In the meantime I watched the very white crowd freak out as standard after standard came on. Summer Lovin´, I Will Survive. I sat on the edge of a couch near my co-workers watching them gleefully sing along. I did not. I felt old, and out of place. Finally my song came up- after my classmates had left and the bar had begun to empty out. Bohemian Rapsody is one I like to pull out for singing-happy crowds. However a few individuals took the desire to sing too far. A girl with sleepy drunk eyes stared me down while holding out her hand and repeatedly requesting the mic. Sorry drunk girl. My song, my mic. Then a tall Austrailian dude stood next to me chanting over and over"let me sing. Let me sing." I held my ground and continued to sing "nothing really matters...anyone can see...nothing really matters...nothing really maters to me..." then I handed him the mic figuring he could finish off the song for me... I always mess up the "anyway the wind blows..." so I figured my charitable act would also work out for the best. However, drunk Austrailian who had spent the past three minutes demanding I let him sing didn´t even sing it. I yelled at him. He appologized adding "well you sang it really well so I guess it´s ok that you didn´t let me sing". Thanks dude.
Today was my first day without plans. After breakfast Jamil and I went to Old Town Outfitters- a small operation that provides unique tours and some outdoorsy gear- to pay for our trip tomorrow. We are going to Monterrico beach to kayak through the mangroves. We had attempted to book a trip to Tekal for this weekend but it didn´t quite work out so we decided to put it off until next weekend. I´m just excited to finally get out and do something active in nature. After a nap we walked around the marcado which is vast. They have booths with everything from odd meats to clothes. It´s overwhelming but kind of awesome in a rediculous way.
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