Orange buns, chocolate nibs, and problems with birthday deflation



My birthday celebrations dragged out for a good five days has deflated to a sorry end by the threat of jury duty and return to work. I spent many days before thinking of all the wonderful things I could do, all the fat breakfasts I was going to have.



The last highlight is a chocolate factory, the Scharffenberger tour- a great place to bring your hot looking date. Nothing as funny as seeing the object of your affection in a mandatory hair net. If you know anybody who can look dignified/hot/good with a hairnet, e-mail me a photo proof.



The first highlight begins at the La Pena cultural center for a night of Afro Peruvian song and dance. I asked C if we could count it as a date, he grudgingly said yes. That space has all the feel of a Catholic church coffee and donuts hall except for the coffee, donuts and strobe light. But the old Catholic ladies farting, it's all authentic. Rompe y Raja sang beautifully. We were so pleasantly surprised when one of the side dancing ladies with the eighties soccer star short-long belted a song out while the main diva was resting; let it be known henceforth that a mullet is no barrier to good singing.



But it was the Marinera, "an intricate and elegant dance of courtship accompanied by guitar, cajon, accordion and handclapping by onlookers" which provided the unexpected entertainment. It was more than just a male dancer dressed in orange knickerbockers and vest chasing a girl in a pure white dress. Well- C said it best. "My god- those buns can hold up a coke can." Every time orange buns would appear on the scene, I would crack up so bad I had to hide my nose in C's shoulder.



At the beginning of the show, the performers came out in formation singing and dancing- I noticed a tooth fell out of the quijada(donkey's jaw used as a rattle). So all night my eye got sucked into the gap in the jaw wondering if someone was going to trip on it.