the perfect dance partner

On Friday night, Jess and I were both exhausted after a long day at work, going to the gym (the gym experience here deserves its own post), and pretty skeptical about going out. But we had heard there was a concert of really good local and international (Kenya, Zambia) acts so we rallied; plus, we were starving and needed to get out of the house to eat.

The minute we walk into the bar, we run into people Jess knows from around Dar. The expat community here is tiny and it is almost certain you will see people you know, or at least recognize at any one of these common venues.

The concert was organized by this Danish guy whose name in Swahili, Mzungu Kichaa, literally means Crazy White Guy (mzungu is white people). The Beat Festival was already in full effect when we got there, but we found a place at the bar to eat delicious fish kebabs and the traditional tomato and cabbage salad called Kachimburi. The atmosphere was sort of amazing--very relaxed music under this thatched roof open on all sides almost like a beach bar. The crowd was mostly expats it seemed, but really from all over the world.

That was until Yvonne Mwale came on, a fairly new Zambian singer who reminded me half of an early African Ani Difranco. Her moves were unreal. I captured some on video but it's really nothing compared to what it was in person:

So Jess and I got a little closer and started just moving a little bit but were really too exhausted to really get down. That is until I saw this guy dancing:

His dancing was not like anything I'd seen before. Lots of jumping and kind of rhythmic hopping. We sort of just watched him and his friend for a time (and yes he's wearing a Chicago t-shirt!--and a super sweet beaded arm cuff and some fancy sneaks I did not catch on camera) before he sort of shimmied up to me. His name is John and he's a Tanzanian and works in some government job. A very nice and respectful young man (it is fascinating how completely non-threatening--to the point of not even approaching--most men are here; it's a relief, to be honest). He showed us the sign for "jambo" which looked rather lewd to us (for those who want a demonstration, I'll give it when I get home), and I resisted at first, but his dancing was pretty infectious. Jess actually catalyzed it by saying, "Let me take your bag," sensing the impending dance-off.

We danced for probably 2-3 songs, and I followed his style. Despite my tired legs, I've rarely had as good a dance partner. He told me he was impressed. And when I was just too tired to keep going, and I saw Jess's eyes literally shut, I said goodbye, he said goodbye, and that was that. But yet another reason to make sure we do go out and experience Dar regardless of how tired we are--how else would I know that such a perfect dance partner existed!