St. Patrick's Day Ball

So this weekend was a real ex-pat experience.  Until now, I've had many occasions to feel how ridiculously small the ex-pat community is... everyone knows everyone.  Or so it feels.  This weekend, however, I had quite the opposite experience.  I was absolutely stunned by how many people there really are.

St. Patrick's day was last Tuesday.  Of course the Irish community here in Kigali (I believe there are 12 or 13) thought it would wildly fitting to throw a giant St. Patrick's Day ball, and were pleasantly surprised to discover their am

bassador decided to make an appearance in the country to coincide with the event.

For weeks and weeks they have been postering and plugging the evening everywhere you went. At the Goat & Gorilla (a pub at the English Embassy that opens only once a week for happy hour), I was offered tickets by every third person I talked to.

Despite the exorbitant price (more than $60), Hannah and I were eventually convinced to join Erik's group of friends.  They had a few extra seats at their table, and we eager to not look lame.  

Not too much coaxing was needed to get Mike to come along too (Mike is Hannah's flame as of late).

The evening was "black tie, or whatever you can get" so people had a wide range of outfits on.  Kate and Sara got their dresses made by one of the tailors in town, but since Hannah and I didn't commit ourselves until the last minute, we had to make do with the stuff we already had in our closets.  Ok, so I actually planned ahead a wee bit and spent last Sunday sunning myself by the pool at Novotel (a hotel walking distance from my house) in order to have hot legs for the party.  My dress, after all, is a leg dress.

The event itself was very first-world.  Held in a hotel, the lobby was converted into an art gallery full of art from our favorite artist friends.  Upstairs, there was a cocktail hour outside the main ballroom during which we were served Guinness mixed with cheap champagne.  Yeah, I didn't get it either... but we had to appreciate the fact that there was Guinness at all.  Cocktail hour was followed by a buffet style dinner that boasted food so good I probably tucked away 15 pounds of it.  Then there were speeches upon speeches I hardly paid attention to, and finally an Irish cover band played for hours and hours and we all got to dance the night away.

What astounded me more than the fact that I got to have cheesecake, or that the band was actually good, or that we got to have free wine (almost) all night was the fact that giant ballroom was jam packed with ex-pats, and I only knew about 12 of them.  I felt like all my conceptions about what comprised the ex-pat community here was totally off base.  Even Erik was stunned by the shear volume of people he had never seen before.  Turns out Kigali really is the trendy spot to be for development workers.

For more photos, go here.