Latino Nights

Friday saw the big day in the Almaty International Women's Club calendar with the ball at the Intercontinental hotel. The usual stalwarts of the committee were out in force, selling raffle tickets, enforcing networking opportunities and generally in state of nervous exhaustion. 

It was a fun night which began at some friends who have moved into an apartment just five floors below us in our block of flats for some bubbles. Then, with all of nine us in our best frocks and suits, we all piled into our car and Baktiyar drove us the half kilometer to the event.

The rest of the evening was classic expat piss up - lots and lots of booze, ropey food, some amazing sights on the dance floor - either from people dancing who think they are really good but should actually be put out of their misery, or from those poor souls who just have no rythmn at all and are just plain hilarious to see. Personally, being a pretty useless dancer myself, I really shouldn't criticise, but it always strikes me at these dos how a formal event is an odd format. A load of middle aged people sit down for dinner (as they usually would), but then get up and get sweaty, shaking their (perhaps formerly) funky selves in front of everyone. 

We left uncharacteristically early as husband was completely knackered after working four 16 hour days in a row (on the back of an overnight flight on Monday night back from Edinburgh), and was not for staying. I am delighted he dragged me away, because I had been knocking back the Cuba Libres at 11pm after eating a small plate of salad for my dinner, and would have been annihilated if he had not removed me from the chat, fun and boozing.