Baby's First Braai

I got invited to my first braai, which is what the crazy people of this lovely country call a BBQ, on Friday, which was very exciting. I decided that I should combine my first braai evening with my first time eating ostrich, so it could be an exciting night of firsts. I go to the grocery store, my mind awash with the giddy excitement of 6 year old’s first day of school, to get ostrich. I bee line for the raw meat section and then the hunt begins. Beef. Lamb. Pork. Chicken. Ostrich? No luck. Finally I stop awkwardly wandering around and decide, in an unaccustomed moment of genius, to ask someone where the ostrich section is. After a confused look, she takes me to the “ostrich section”, which consists of one or two packages of ostrich hidden amongst chicken and various marinating meats. I pick up the package of ostrich and there are instructions on the back. Possibly the most intimidating instructions I’ve ever seen on a package of meat. Cook using olive oil. Make sure ostrich steak is 13.65 cm from the flame. Flip using tongs made of steel forged in the heavens. Needless to say I walked back over to the safety of beef. One can only take so many firsts.

After the braai, we went to club where I was told there would be sokkie or a sokkie or whatever is the grammatically correct way of saying sokkie was involved. Either way, it was the most fantastic thing I’ve ever experienced! There were boys…dancing. Not only were they dancing, but they were enjoying it. This wasn’t club dancing where you’re minding your own business one minute and getting assaulted from behind the next. This was the kind of dancing where you are held in a formal position and get spun around the room narrowly avoiding smacking into other people doing the same. In short, it was heaven. *sigh*

However, there was also normal dancing. At one point I’m dancing like a lunatic…as per usual, and this woman comes up to me and says something along the lines of “I like your dancing, but since you can’t actually hear me…” *thumbs up* I smile, nod and say thank you. Thinking this is the end of the conversation I turn to leave, but she grabs my arm and says something else. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you.” Nope. Can I spin on my head?!?! Whatever “dancing” I was doing before was a far cry from spinning on my head let alone any type of break dancing. The next question, actually posed as more of an order, can I do the splits. Ha! Unfortunately not, but she doesn’t seem to believe me. Now, I’m not going to lie, if I could do the splits I would work it into every conversation I had just so I could show off my skillz. We back and forth for a while about my lack of talent and her lack of understanding of this, until finally I just give in and show her my inability to do the splits. Bad idea…