The luck of the Irish!

A friend who has now left Kampala coined the phrase FOMO - this stands for Fear Of Missing Out. It affects most of us from time to time and I had my dose this weekend. I had decided that I definitely was not going to go to the Paddy's night celebrations in the Irish pub on account that last time I didn't drink any of the free Guinness and when I asked for a vegetarian alternative to the Irish Stew I was told I should just have extra potatoes! In fairness, that's a pretty authentic Irish vegetarian meal, except there would probably have been a wider range of potato products on offer on the emerald isle! Besides the food issue, I was also determined not to ruin all my triathlon training with a late night.

So I definitely wasn't going to go. Nobody could twist my rubber arm ... until we went to the Ireland V England sports afternoon. This is an annual tournament where they play football, rugby and Gaelic football. Still dressed in our England t-shirts from International Day, a few of us went along to support the home team. Ireland were well kitted out (my favourite slogan being 'Well oil beef hooked') and had a massive group of supporters. The England team was a total shower, with a team of any old random muzungus and a six year old and no kit whatsoever. Pretty pathetic really. I think we won the football but lost the rugby and Gaelic football, but to be honest I was just enjoying a Friday afternoon beer and forgot to keep track of the scores.

By the time we were leaving the game, I was feeling seriously sorry for myself and my impending night of self-imposed solitary confinement. Everyone was going and even the kids in school thought I was a bit sad for not going along. I never believe that anything in Kampala really sells out. But this had, and the fact that there were no more tickets left made it seem even better.

An hour or two later, I was just settling down to Glee when a friend called to tell me she had a ticket. 20 minutes later, I was dressed in a sparkly green top and ready to go.

The band had been flown in from Ireland and the fiddler used to play with The Waterboys. Their most famous song 'The whole of the moon' was very appropriate for the night, as the supersized moon we are experiencing right now cast a warm pinkish glow on everything around and tinged the night sky dark purple. A friend was totally star-struck and told me it was the first dance at her wedding - as opposed to my school-days memory of the boys singing the song on school trips whilst pulling moonies out of a coach window! The Irish pub was a sea of green and a few brave souls led the dancing. By the second half, the Kampala crowd was doing a great Riverdance impression. There was so much leg kicking and skipping around that I would consider the evening a full cardio work-out!

Last night was the St Patrick's day ball and the tickets sold out weeks ago. I was ready for a quiet night when I found 6 missed calls and a text saying 'call me urgently'.  I called my friend immediately, envisioning that she had been knocked down by a runaway matatu or was lying in a hospital bed with some unknown and incurable tropical disease. The emergency was that I had a ticket and had roughly half an hour to get dressed and get to the hotel downtown!

More dancing, drinking and silliness ensued for the rest of the evening. Tables were danced on and the red carpet came in use for an Ireland V the rest of the world tug of war competition. I believe I missed the crowd surfing! I even got to wear my favourite sparkly stilettos too - they don't get much action in Kampala!

Tomorrow it's back to the triathlon training ... starting with a running hash from the Irish pub with beer stops along the way - erm what am I doing?