It is now the second day of Chinese New Year here in Dali and the fireworks have subsided somewhat. On the sixth, we gathered at the bad monkey and blew stuff up all evening. There are some M80 types that we would throw into the small sewage-rivers that flow along the stone paths through Dali Old Town. They float a bit, then blow up — sending water splashing innocent bystanders. we tied fireworks together, sent em hurtling into the air, then screamed as they all blew up at once. Here in Dali, cedar boughs were a hot commodity, they are placed in front of doors as blessed doormats. Eventually we ran out of fireworks and started hitting the bottle. Me and Tenz drank about three bottles of Jameson between us. Plus various other party favors. I began headbutting people and such. I guess i tried to start mock-fights with everyone, at least with my buddies. i puked all over the place. Sammy, for the first time in his life, held someone else up and cleaned the sickness off of me. He brought my ass home. That was two days ago. The price for all that fun, all the screaming and yelling and laughter and such, is two days of agony and suffering. For two days i groaned and moaned my way from one lie-down spot to another … finally, today, i can move. my tummy has forgiven me.
The price is so high … for the most part I try not to touch that much liquor and on this trip it has been me carrying sammy … but sometimes a brother just has to let it all hang out. and lord … it aint worth it in the end.
