Moca Nightlife Part 2

After a couple of beers we headed across the street to another place I’ve walked by a hundred times with curiosity. On the corner in front we merrily rejoined the others before heading inside. The place couldn’t have been more authentic and perfect. It was all on the second story; the first was parking. Three concentric terraces fanned outward from the bar, each a step down from the next with the outermost being an open balcony. On a small, dark dancefloor people danced to merengue, salsa, and electronic dance music.

Estefany and her boyfriend, Mayobanex

The girls were eager to see if the gringo was going to dance, and if they expected me to be shy, they were mistaken. Something about casting off my possessions for two years and taking a vow of poverty has made me even less inhibited than I may have been otherwise. If love is the international language, getting down must be a close cousin. At one point I remember I was taking a rest when Chuno got my attention like, “watch this”. He just gestured from the balcony to an attractive young girl who was practically at the bar and next thing I knew they were dancing salsa. Chuno moved her all over the floor and spun and turned like a pro.

Chuno salsas with Estafany

Unfortunately, at the end of the night, events took a tragic turn. While driving back on his pasola (Vespa-style motor scooter) . Chuno drove into an uncovered manhole and fell face-first onto the gravel road. His face was covered in blood, and we worried that he may have a concussion. While a bunch of the group accompanied him to the hospital, I ended up back at the apartment building holding Cristina’s one-year-old and bouncing him up and down to stop his wailing. When the others returned, they assured me he hadn’t lost consciousness and that his memory appeared to be intact. His lip was split clear through.