My colleague and I, hanging out while waiting for a cab

It’s always a night of debauchery when the ship docks for the night in Mauritius. Being deprived as we were, we’d all chip in money to pay for a cab that takes us to a strip of bars and clubs, near Grand Baie Beach. It usually costs us about 10-12 Euros per person, to and fro.

On good nights, blankets of stars would dot the sky. I’ve never seen so many stars before…it seems like every constellation in the galaxy is out there, twinkling and winking, trying to show us our destinies. I usually get a good amount of star gazing as the journey from the port to the club takes about 45 minutes.

The usual hangout joint would be Buddha Bar, a ludicrous club that plays bad electronic music, filled with women dancing on podiums, sleazy man, prostitutes, foreigners, locals and the crew of our ship. Local beers cost about 3 Euros. According to Simon, that bar belongs to some Belgian Flemish dudes. He pointed out the owners to me, two fat white men, sweating profusely in the humidity and heat.

The club isn’t amazing but the crew make do with what they have. Somehow, everyone ends up there and it’s nauseating. On one hand, the familiar feeling of seeing and dancing with the people you know gives you a warm fuzz but on another, you feel like you’re dancing back on the ship, only with a different setting.

Camilla, the children animator and I in Buddha Bar

I’ve seen lecherous men eyeing me quizzically, trying to guess if I was a prostitute, a local or a foreigner. My ‘exotic’ Oriental looks, combined with my black top and white shorts, confused them. My company of friends tells them I’m a foreigner but me hanging out with the old dudes (some of my friends are pretty old) may give them the idea that they’re my sugar daddies or something like that.

That night, everyone, including the crew, would try to score. It doesn’t matter if they’d come with their partners or lonely and desperate- after large quantities of beer, everyone’s single and available. It’s a night where no one will remember the next morning, so might as well indulge your inner most desires. It’ll all be forgotten when you step into the confines of the ship. Such liberty gives me a flutter in my stomach, knowing that you can get away with anything but I usually stay out of trouble. I do go around, searching for a piece of decent conversation but no one wants to talk. Men just wants to leer and grope. For that, I return to my group of male friends where I’m their teacher, best friend and princess-and hence, am protected and safe. But when my friends get too drunk and want some piece of action (with someone else!), I’d cross over to the food vendors opposite the road and get myself a nice hotdog or hot kebab. I’d sit on one of the stools, by the dusty road, and chomp on my food contentedly. At 3 am, such snacks are heaven sent!