A night out
OR Put down the knitting, the book and the broom…live a little!
What good is sitting alone in your room?
Come hear the music play.
Life is a Cabaret, old chum,
Come to the Cabaret.
While I’d love to spend this entire post praising the brilliance of Bob Fosse, and my obsessive love of the 1972 Oscar winning film, Cabaret, that’s not the plan today. We’ll save that for another time.
Maybe this time…
Lady Peaceful, Lady Happy
That's what I long to be
All the odds are in my favor
Something's bound to begin
It's gotta happen, happen sometime
Maybe this time I'll win
I’ve wanted to write about the nightlife in Quito, but it’s something I rarely (i.e. never) indulge in. Except…recently I had the opportunity to go out after sunset and that’s an event worth recounting. Amar es compartir, which is close to our “sharing is caring” but with more emotion – to love is to share. So, here’s some sharing for you.
A few weeks ago, I was at the office for a meeting and had lunch with some of my counterparts. Somehow the topic of beer came up and they asked if I drank beer? As I answered, I couldn’t help thinking of Bret Kavanaugh, but it only came across as an affirmation of enjoying the action of imbibing fermented beverages. Understandably, those references are lost on my counterparts, much as theirs are lost on me. I explained that drinking beer is an art form back home among my friends. I know a lot of beer snobs. I don’t drink in Quito because I live alone, and solo drinking is not my bag, man. I don’t want to hang out in a bar on my own. I’m not the best at social interactions with strangers. Neither do I want to sit in my little room drinking alone while I read or watch YouTube.
Willkommen
Leave you troubles outside!
So - life is disappointing? Forget it!
We have no troubles here! Here life is beautiful...
The girls are beautiful...
Even the orchestra is beautiful!
As a result of this conversation, a group of officemates invited me out the following evening to a new bar called Katari. Initially I was excited about it and eager to go. As it got closer to the end of the day, my introvert tendencies started to kick in. Maybe I’ll skip this one and go out another time. I could go home and snuggle up with a hot tea, blanket, and a movie, which is what I do almost every night anyway. I don’t know if I should spend money going to a bar. I’ll have to call Uber to get home. All these things came up, which are not that complicated, but I tried to build them up to be insurmountable barriers.
Fortunately, someone insisted I come along, and suddenly there I was, crammed in the back seat with three other people on our way. This was on a Thursday, which is like Friday for us, and the night of a big soccer match, so the traffic was intense. Everyone is considerably younger than me, which made me feel awkward. In a city where not everyone has a car, they’re all used to these situations of piling into one car for a night out. I haven’t done anything like that in decades. They were all chatting and excited to go out. They talked about the bus system and how challenging it can be when you first start using it. Everyone had a story of falling asleep until the last stop, getting on the wrong bus, or the first time they were sent out alone to find their way through the city. All of this was in Spanish, by the way. I was able to follow the conversation but had nothing to contribute as I never use the buses, only Uber or the Metro.
Come taste the wine
Come hear the band
Come blow a horn, start celebrating
Right this way, your table's waiting
Finally, we were close to our destination, but the traffic was backed up, so we got out and walked the rest of the way while Santi (Santiago) waited in the long line of traffic to get into the parking garage. We waited in line to show our IDs and go inside. There’s another thing I haven’t had to do in ages. They barely looked at mine. We went in and waited for our table. Someone had called ahead with a reservation. They are big on reservations in Quito. Eventually we got to our table and ordered.
The bar opened recently so it was crowded. I love the set up and design of the place. There are two huge columns with spigots all the way around. These have digital screens that describe what you can get from each one. They are mainly wine and beer. Each one has the name and description of the alcohol. For beers this includes the name, a description of the type of beer, flavor notes, IBUs and percentage of alcohol.
So how does it work? The waiter takes everyone’s IDs and links each one to a rubber bracelet with some kind of chip in it. They are all numbered, and he returns the IDs and the bracelets. You use this to select what you want to drink. Above each spigot is a reader, you touch the chip in the bracelet to the reader and the spigot is now active. You fill your glass, as much as you want and it is added to your tab. The price is based on volume. The more liquid you put in your glass, the more you are charged. I’m a lightweight when it comes to drinking these days. I also knew I was going home alone by Uber, so I decided to do my own “sampler tray.” I tried five different beers throughout the night but never filled my glass more that a fourth to a third of the way full. It worked out well because I always had beer in my glass. It looked like I was almost finished with the glass or on to the next one. Not that I should worry about what anyone thinks of me, but this way I looked like more of a party animal than I really am.
Like most bars, the music was so loud. For the first part of the night people were watching the soccer match, another World Cup qualifier between Ecuador and Brazil. The place was full of yellow Ecuador jerseys and flags. People cheered and shouted every time some almost scored or blocked a shot. I’ve never seen so many people so excited about not scoring. It made me miss American football. At least I have a basic understanding of how that works. The game ended tied at 0-0. I don’t know what that means for Ecuador and whether they advance or not.
After the game and another stint of loud music, a band came on the stage, and things got even louder. As the band played, people started dancing and singing along. Based on the enthusiastic response from everyone, I guessed this was a cover band, and a fairly good one. Everyone sang along with the songs at full volume. Of course it was all lost on me. I don’t know these songs; I have no association with any of them. I enjoyed seeing how much everyone else loved it, but I was strictly a spectator in all of it. I did do a bit of awkward dancing in place. What else could I do?
You have to understand the way I am, mein herr
A tiger is a tiger, not a lamb, mein herr
You'll never turn the vinegar to jam, mein herr
So I do what I do when I'm through, then I'm through
And I'm through, toodle-doo!
It’s not a real night out at the bar until the bouncers break up a fight. Since I wasn’t singing, I could see it starting to build up – two guys arguing and starting to push each other. A young woman tried to split them up and some other friends tried to hold them back. Once you see it, you can’t look away. I moved further away for safety, but continued watching. It would die down for a minute and then build up again. Eventually two security guys came to break it up and take one of the fellows out the side door to calm down.
Finale
Where are your troubles now?
Forgotten, I told you so!
We have no troubles here
Here life is beautiful.
Overall, it was a fun night. I enjoyed the noise and action of the bar, trying the different beers, and especially the relaxed conversations. I had some interesting conversations with people and by eleven decided it was time to go home, along with a few other people. I said my goodbyes to everyone with the traditional hug and cheek kiss and went on my way. I turned in my bracelet and paid my bar tab, $25 for beer and nachos. After you pay, you show the receipt to the bouncer at the door to leave. He made a little tear in the slip, and we walked out to wait for our respective Ubers. Maybe because I’m so much older than everyone else, they kept asking if I was okay, which I was. My “sampler” strategy may have worked too well. It looked like I was drinking the whole time, but I drank less than 2 glasses of beer the whole evening. I’ve been doing this longer than you think, kids!
My Uber arrived and I headed home. The streets that had been so crowded and slow moving earlier in the evening were practically empty now. I was surprised to see how close the bar was to my neighborhood. I would never walk that far, but it was closer than I expected. My Uber driver delivered me safely to my apartment building, and waited for me to unlock the gate and walk in. Stepping into my quiet little refuge, I felt happy for the opportunity to socialize, but also grateful for the silence and comfort of my little room.
A night out in Quito is not like going out with friends back home where the conversation can go anywhere or keep everyone laughing over old times and past adventures. It is about struggling to make some kind of connection with whatever you can grasp. It’s not something I’m good at, and it requires so much effort. Doing difficult things is a key part of life and growing, even when you’re an old artifact, like me.
I’m no fräulein Sally Bowles. I do prefer my knitting and my book (no broom, thank you), but you do need to go out and live sometimes.
Start by admitting from cradle to tomb
It isn't that long a stay
Life is a cabaret, old chum
It's only a cabaret, old chum
And I love a cabaret!
Ignore the fact that that this happy, upbeat song comes at the dark end of the movie and it is more about refusing to accept how much worse things will get. Let’s forget that for now and live for the moment.
A better alternative is this imperative from Auntie Mame (1958) - Live, live, live!
Ciao!
The content of this blog post is mine and mine alone and does not reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the Ecuadorian Government.