Here we are now, Entertain us

The heat is beginning to get merciless. I'm losing the war with the mosquitoes. I've decided to blog.

I have been waiting until tomorrow actually, when possible developments may occur in regards to the lady in the previous entry. However, I realized that the last four days have been really been about me doing anything but work - and so I should represent that correctly.

So I want to tell you about Colombo kids and their party party party lifestyle. Of course I use "kids" loosely, because their age ranges into the 30s. Last Wednesday, I mistakenly thought I was going out for dinner with a couple of friends who had come down from Colombo. As with all great nights, I was in for the unexpected.

Colombo radio stations were sponsoring Goa-style parties on the beach. With Poya Day (national holiday) the following day, a couple hundred flocked to Unawatuna. Many made the 3 hour roadtrip from Colombo, with the intent to stay the following day.

Unawatuna is sworn by many to have been an oasis for independent, edgy travelers 6 or 7 years ago. As the crows attack anything edible, hotels and tourists now colonize the beach. (N.B: There is a difference between 'traveller' and 'tourist'). Taking a glass-bottomed boat, you'll no longer see vivid shocks of coloured-coral, but grey coral damaged by these tourist-purpose boats.

I have no previous memory to compare to, but I still see that offbeat charm about the place. There are quite a few boutique guesthouses, quaint little cafes, and side-to-side roadside shops selling colorful garments and souvenirs. Any glance at some of the murals on the walls is enough to clue in that someone was on a serious acid trip when they painted that. During the day, there's nothing better than to sip on juice at a beachside resto, with Bob Marley lulling in the background. By night, the atmosphere comes alive.

My experiences with Colombo Kids - that's forever how I'll refer to them - never fail to astound me. They are from elite backgrounds - spawn of politicians, businessmen etc. - having either gone to a Western-style international school, or one of the prestigious national schools They operate in an entirely different stratum from the rest of the country - socially and economically. At first I misjudged, thinking they were yearning to be Westernized - meeting up for coffee dates, referencing American TV shows, partying like what I thought people only in the West know how to. But I was wrong. They have carved out their own tailored made culture - one fit for their location. They seem to be more liberally-minded than the Sri Lankan diaspora communities in general, and partying is a big part of their lives. 

There are several clubs in Colombo - but the beach party is a manifestation of a different kind of festivity. As I stepped out onto the sand at Unawatuna on Wednesday night, dance beats were thumping, strobe lights were teasing the black skies, and masses of people, many in "I <3 UNA" t-shirts, were out celebrating the night of the full moon. I still can't get over being able to feel the ocean seep between your toes while hearing Cobain chant "Hello, Hello, Hello, How Low" to a fast techno beat. But the alcohol might have had something to do with that. 

Among the crowd, there were many Sri Lankans and tourists. I overheard one guy say to the other, "Machang (bro), there's so many chicks, it's like a farmhouse on the beach". In my opinion, there were far more guys - but then again there's always a majority of guys at any clubbing event in Sri Lanka, I think the guy was just being relative - and a little excited at the multitude of blonde Russian girls.

I didn't stay until the end, but I was still on the beach at 8am, and I could still hear one of the parties (there were 2) throb away with its bass. 9am was when it was officially over. I totally understand why people stay the following day - it's because there is no better way to recover than by lying on a beach by an ocean that sparkles topaz blue. As I observed, I saw the grinders and rolling papers come out, the JD bottles twist open, and the Sri Lankan guys wander over to the deckchairs of unsuspecting white girls to make "friendly" conversation before heading back for work the next day. There's a party like this at least once a week and for the hedonistic Colombo Kid - a chance to blow in one night, the monthly salary of a domestic worker, like the lady working at the Elders' Home.