Good old days
I just got home. It's 6:30am. I haven't slept yet tonight.
I haven't had this much fun since I was in university.
The day started normally enough, for a day of helping with the conference. I had breakfast at home, and made it to the hotel to catch the EWB storytelling. (Man, that seems so long ago now.) A bunch of senior EWB members told short stories about EWB's history; it was fun and educational. I caught a breakout session about chapter websites, and got to meet the guy who keeps our servers going. (He's a fun guy.) Lunch, and then I helped out with setting up at the war museum for the banquet. Home to change into my suit and play with Jasmine (not in that order), then back to the banquet. Good food, and Lt.-Gen. the honourable Roméo Dallaire is a very good speaker. A lot of what he said was really sobering and depressing -- and shocking -- since he talked about the atrocities he saw while he was serving in Rwanda. But it ended on a really encouraging note that tied in all he'd said with what EWB is about.
After that, what one could only call a real-life zerg rush -- or a slashdotting, take your pick -- occurred. The unofficial closing plan was to go to a classy pub whose name escapes me right now, but when me and a few of my friends got there, there was a clump outside the door; the place was full to capacity. So we made a snap decision to go to a second pub, and told the stranded delegates to go there. Lo and behold, that pub was full too. Those few of us left (10 or so) went to the Rainbow pub, and got in. An interesting ska-type band called Mr. Something Something was playing. It was catchy enough that I bought their album on the way out. From there, it was back to the hotel to socialize.
Except, 'socialize' is perhaps the biggest understatement in history. Almost all the delegates were gathered on the lowest level of the hotel. About eight African drummers were there, and played four or five at a time, and everyone else was dancing. And clapping. And jumping. And cheering. And throwing balloons around. And chanting "EWB, EWB". And crowd-surfing. And dancing. It was absolutely amazing. There was so much energy, so much camaraderie, that I couldn't stop smiling.
Finally, at about 5am, the drummers stopped. Brian and Adrian and I went to a place they like called Mello's. I wasn't happy with the service myself, though the breakfast was alright. And there was a customer (from the interactions with the waitress, a regular) sitting at the counter who had a swastika tattooed on the back of his hand. That was disturbing.
After we ate, we walked Brian home, then I walked Adrian home, and then I took a cab home. That brings us to now. While I still had the buzz of shared energy, I was thinking that I would just stay up all night and all day, maybe go to bed early tonight, and that would be the end of it. But now that I'm reposing, I'm feeling more and more bagged. So I think I'll wash up and go to bed now.
I'm going to be so bagged on Monday morning, no matter when or how long I sleep. But man, was it ever worth it.
I haven't had this much fun since I was in university.
The day started normally enough, for a day of helping with the conference. I had breakfast at home, and made it to the hotel to catch the EWB storytelling. (Man, that seems so long ago now.) A bunch of senior EWB members told short stories about EWB's history; it was fun and educational. I caught a breakout session about chapter websites, and got to meet the guy who keeps our servers going. (He's a fun guy.) Lunch, and then I helped out with setting up at the war museum for the banquet. Home to change into my suit and play with Jasmine (not in that order), then back to the banquet. Good food, and Lt.-Gen. the honourable Roméo Dallaire is a very good speaker. A lot of what he said was really sobering and depressing -- and shocking -- since he talked about the atrocities he saw while he was serving in Rwanda. But it ended on a really encouraging note that tied in all he'd said with what EWB is about.
After that, what one could only call a real-life zerg rush -- or a slashdotting, take your pick -- occurred. The unofficial closing plan was to go to a classy pub whose name escapes me right now, but when me and a few of my friends got there, there was a clump outside the door; the place was full to capacity. So we made a snap decision to go to a second pub, and told the stranded delegates to go there. Lo and behold, that pub was full too. Those few of us left (10 or so) went to the Rainbow pub, and got in. An interesting ska-type band called Mr. Something Something was playing. It was catchy enough that I bought their album on the way out. From there, it was back to the hotel to socialize.
Except, 'socialize' is perhaps the biggest understatement in history. Almost all the delegates were gathered on the lowest level of the hotel. About eight African drummers were there, and played four or five at a time, and everyone else was dancing. And clapping. And jumping. And cheering. And throwing balloons around. And chanting "EWB, EWB". And crowd-surfing. And dancing. It was absolutely amazing. There was so much energy, so much camaraderie, that I couldn't stop smiling.
Finally, at about 5am, the drummers stopped. Brian and Adrian and I went to a place they like called Mello's. I wasn't happy with the service myself, though the breakfast was alright. And there was a customer (from the interactions with the waitress, a regular) sitting at the counter who had a swastika tattooed on the back of his hand. That was disturbing.
After we ate, we walked Brian home, then I walked Adrian home, and then I took a cab home. That brings us to now. While I still had the buzz of shared energy, I was thinking that I would just stay up all night and all day, maybe go to bed early tonight, and that would be the end of it. But now that I'm reposing, I'm feeling more and more bagged. So I think I'll wash up and go to bed now.
I'm going to be so bagged on Monday morning, no matter when or how long I sleep. But man, was it ever worth it.