very old fashioned dance party

And tonight we are Maasai. I am pretty excited, look for pictures. I have been gathering my outfit all day. I have my jewelery, I have my shuka, and I have a Maasai Warrior to show me how wear it. Now all I have to do is try to focus on work until the end of the day when and play dress up, eat grilled meats, and dance. And just to prove that I haven't gone full native yet, there will be apple pie at this party. Because what's a party without pie?

Attempting the impossible

Alright, no matter from what part of my life you know me from, you will all pretty much know I enjoy dancing. Some have countless nights watching me prove just that on the dance floor (Maggie) some of you have just laughed your butts of at me managing to must a move in the car going through the drive through at In N Out (pretty much anyone who's ever been with me at that great moment right before you get the no. 2 combo). And let's say you have never been with me when George Michael, Salt n Peppa, or Journey came on the radio you could probably still infer from my general love of econ-podcasts that despite my great love to dance there are certain limits to my skill.
That all being said, when I do hit the dance floor I typically try to find some local girls, make friends and learn some new moves (Yep, Ash what's true in AZ, Honduras is still true all the way in TZ). So far I have gone out twice here, and both times I have had an awesome time. I have danced with great local ladies and they teach me what they can, but I do believe they are all trying to lasso the moon when each and every one of them have attempted to teach this girl booty shaking. I mean I fully believe there must be some joint in their backsides that I am missing. The first step in all these moves is to turn around and look at your own butt, right well let's start there. Because I turn, even using everything I ever learned in Yoga when I turn, there's nothing there to see. So right from the jumping off point I have failed, there's just no booty to shake. But not to be a quitter I commit, I turn and look at the place where I should be seeing booty and then try my best to shake what I haven't got. It's a lot like playing make believe. Like when my sisters and I were little and pretended our bikes were horses and feed them grass.
It's a bit of insanity but every time I hit the floors here the local chicks and I both seem to share the same illusion that I am turning and seeing something I don't have and shaking it with some muscle or joint I have not been genetically provided with. It's a fantasy. But again like playing as child it's a fun fantasy and not one I am prepared to give up. So as long as I am here I am going to keep trying and attempting the impossible and achieving my dream on the dance floor.

Hope you are all doing great!

An evening drive under African skies

These are taken during the same sunset on the drive back from Arusha to Karatu. The sky here seems so much bigger than at home.