Due to a lack of time to organise anything outside Jo'burg this weekend we decided to try out a couple of local options. The main event on Friday night was Congolese night club up in Morningside and the Saturday was a local pub down in grungy (but awesome) Melville.
There have been a few ADP teams in Jo'burg recently and one project that is winding up had a thank-you dinner with their client and we met up with them later on. A congolese girl on the client team had suggested the club and about 15 of us eventually met up at this mall type place with some upstairs bars and the club. About half that number attended the dinner and arrived pretty late and we all proceeded to the club entrance as a unit. The bouncer refused me entry on the grounds of innappropriate footwear and was heard remarking to a nearby bouncer that he "didn't realise it was 'white night' this evening", presumably a reference to the predominately anglo appearance of our group (there were about 8 nationalities represented). A brief discussion ensued and it wasn't looking too hopeful for me until our Congolese friend went and had a few words with the owner which seemed to sort things out much to the chagrin of the bouncer.
Inside was pretty much what you'd expect of a club, only the security were a tad heavy handed and there seemed to be a rule for practically everything and somebody generally got scolded for some transgression or other every few minutes or so. It clearly wasn't 'white night' that night and apart from some sleazy long haired guy that kept trying to intersperse himself into our little dance circle (there's always one) everyone enjoyed their time on the dancefloor. Eventually it came time to leave and we headed out through reception where I had the misfortune of running into my bouncer friend once more.
He gave me an extensive handshake and I thanked him for being able to overlook my footwear on this particular occasion. He pulled me closer and said something that I couldn't make out over the music apart from 'I'll see you outside'. Despite being flattered by his obviously earnest desire to continue our discussion where there was less noise and more fresh air his offer didn't hold much interest for me and I thought it best to make a bee-line for the stairs. I wasn't quite quick enough and had to endure a little more handshaking but I really didn't feel like ponying up for a gratuity for a guy who had to be overriden by his boss for me to be granted access to the club. The gratuity may have been worth it just to avoid the extended man-hug, however.
The trip home was uneventful except for a fight in the car-park on the way out that saw about 6 security guards stand around watching the spectacle but seemingly unwilling to intervene. Our taxi driver of course did a slow drive-by despite requests from the girls in the back to just get going and several available exits that went nowhere near the escalating discussion. Despite all this it was a pleasure not to have to endure the same, tired old JT and Jo-Lo R&B tripe in favour of some decent (and unfamiliar) afro-rhythms.
Saturday night was a casual affair with some communications people and journalists from various organisations at the Wee Pub in Melville. One of the guys we met up with had this particular bar as his local so got to play DJ, and he managed to get the joint (and mostly african crowd) singing and doing hand movements to "We are the world" 3 times in a row, something he'd been kicked out for doing on his fourth attempt the previous evening.
I got talking to one chap that seemed to be associated with the group and we started talking about a range of things and I mentioned what I was doing and who I was working for. This didn't go down so well as there seemed to have been a bit of history there but he wanted to talk more about it the following day - I didn't think much more of it but I did get a call Sunday morning, a meeting I'll probably address in a different entry. Briefly though, it turns out that he was something of a local Kwaito (a south african variety of hip-hop) celebrity and related to Zola 7, possibly the biggest name in the genre and also a tv and film personality.
The night ended at (of all places) a metal club across the road. After all the derisive comments about my personal choice of favorite music genre I felt nothing but vindication seeing these same individuals jumping around like amphetamine-charged ADD sufferers. The metal ambience of the venue even inspired amorous feelings in some, a fact that I will never allow one of the previously noisiest detractors to forget.
So there's something for everyone in Jo'burg. You've just got to get out there and find it, and then find a cab that doesn't break down in the middle of the road to get you home again.
There have been a few ADP teams in Jo'burg recently and one project that is winding up had a thank-you dinner with their client and we met up with them later on. A congolese girl on the client team had suggested the club and about 15 of us eventually met up at this mall type place with some upstairs bars and the club. About half that number attended the dinner and arrived pretty late and we all proceeded to the club entrance as a unit. The bouncer refused me entry on the grounds of innappropriate footwear and was heard remarking to a nearby bouncer that he "didn't realise it was 'white night' this evening", presumably a reference to the predominately anglo appearance of our group (there were about 8 nationalities represented). A brief discussion ensued and it wasn't looking too hopeful for me until our Congolese friend went and had a few words with the owner which seemed to sort things out much to the chagrin of the bouncer.
Inside was pretty much what you'd expect of a club, only the security were a tad heavy handed and there seemed to be a rule for practically everything and somebody generally got scolded for some transgression or other every few minutes or so. It clearly wasn't 'white night' that night and apart from some sleazy long haired guy that kept trying to intersperse himself into our little dance circle (there's always one) everyone enjoyed their time on the dancefloor. Eventually it came time to leave and we headed out through reception where I had the misfortune of running into my bouncer friend once more.
He gave me an extensive handshake and I thanked him for being able to overlook my footwear on this particular occasion. He pulled me closer and said something that I couldn't make out over the music apart from 'I'll see you outside'. Despite being flattered by his obviously earnest desire to continue our discussion where there was less noise and more fresh air his offer didn't hold much interest for me and I thought it best to make a bee-line for the stairs. I wasn't quite quick enough and had to endure a little more handshaking but I really didn't feel like ponying up for a gratuity for a guy who had to be overriden by his boss for me to be granted access to the club. The gratuity may have been worth it just to avoid the extended man-hug, however.
The trip home was uneventful except for a fight in the car-park on the way out that saw about 6 security guards stand around watching the spectacle but seemingly unwilling to intervene. Our taxi driver of course did a slow drive-by despite requests from the girls in the back to just get going and several available exits that went nowhere near the escalating discussion. Despite all this it was a pleasure not to have to endure the same, tired old JT and Jo-Lo R&B tripe in favour of some decent (and unfamiliar) afro-rhythms.
Saturday night was a casual affair with some communications people and journalists from various organisations at the Wee Pub in Melville. One of the guys we met up with had this particular bar as his local so got to play DJ, and he managed to get the joint (and mostly african crowd) singing and doing hand movements to "We are the world" 3 times in a row, something he'd been kicked out for doing on his fourth attempt the previous evening.
I got talking to one chap that seemed to be associated with the group and we started talking about a range of things and I mentioned what I was doing and who I was working for. This didn't go down so well as there seemed to have been a bit of history there but he wanted to talk more about it the following day - I didn't think much more of it but I did get a call Sunday morning, a meeting I'll probably address in a different entry. Briefly though, it turns out that he was something of a local Kwaito (a south african variety of hip-hop) celebrity and related to Zola 7, possibly the biggest name in the genre and also a tv and film personality.
The night ended at (of all places) a metal club across the road. After all the derisive comments about my personal choice of favorite music genre I felt nothing but vindication seeing these same individuals jumping around like amphetamine-charged ADD sufferers. The metal ambience of the venue even inspired amorous feelings in some, a fact that I will never allow one of the previously noisiest detractors to forget.
So there's something for everyone in Jo'burg. You've just got to get out there and find it, and then find a cab that doesn't break down in the middle of the road to get you home again.
