Bangkok, Songkran G-circuit, Gays & Me

Bangkok & Me.

• One of my favorite Asian destinations. 
• The city I keep coming back to. 
• The first city outside of my country that I visited. Ever.

Bangkok could easily be the New York of Asia because I doubt that this city too ever sleeps. As for me Bangkok holds too many great memories. And a few painful ones...

Stepping out of Don Muang airport, which was once, the main international airport before the birth of her younger, chicer sister Suvarnabhumi, I am greeted by a familiar sight of lanky skyscrapers, soulless office buildings and giant billboards forcefully penetrating the ever-gloomy grey sky. Bangkok does not really have an audio-equalizer-like skyline like Chicago, Shanghai or Auckland for example.

Bangkok Skyline

I remember being here for the first time. My then boyfriend and I were high on the thrill of our sweet-smelling taxi going fast and furious on Bangkok’s signature elevated highways. We couldn’t stop elbowing each other whenever a skyscraper or a fancy shopping mall appears. Though Yangon, my city and Bangkok are only an hour away by flight, we were (and still are) worlds apart in terms of infrastructure, urban development and culture. Bangkok to us was the other side with greener grass. Everything that we were deprived of could be found in Bangkok; freedom, fast-paced lifestyle, first world pleasures and flamboyant gay scene.

Has Bangkok changed at all since my very first visit 9 years ago?

Yes and no. I’d say “Not Much”. But certainly my life has changed dramatically over these years. Back then, I was living in the city and today my home is on an island. Music was once my everything but these days photography is my baby. I knew two languages only. Now I speak four.I could count the times I had been on the plane then but now I’ve lost count of the cities I have been to. 

During our first few times in Bangkok, Kyaw Kyaw, my ex and I, would wait forever to take stinky public buses to save money. Now I find myself not even arguing with the taxi driver over the 200 baht he asks for a 2-km ride. I used to know shopping joints where I could bargain or get wholesale prices. Now I shop exclusively at department stores although red labels and signs that say 50% off still excite me like no other. Back in the day, Kyaw Kyaw and I would eat make-it-yourself hot dogs at 7eleven for both lunch and dinner so that we could spend more on shopping and sightseeing. I think about it now; we were really happy. I am happy now too. Happiness cannot be purchased. But money certainly makes one’s life comfortable. 

G-Circuit Parties, Gays & Me.

11:45pm. DJ Station on Silom Soi 2 is jam-packed as usual. This place gets me nervous. The venue is way too small but it welcomes anyone with a valid ID. If anything like fire breaks out, rest assure, you have no way out. My Thai friend suggests that we go to G.O.D instead. G.O.D is a three-storied dance club hidden in a back lane from the main bustling Silom road. It usually gets busy after DJ Station kicks the gays out at 2pm. Queers in the headlights would then come running to prolong the night. I remember when it was called “Free Men” pub. Their drag show was considered the best in town and their dark room, a small dimly lit maze for cruising, was a source of excitement for us, Burmese men on their hard-earned Bangkok holiday. Of course, it was before Grindr, the gay cultural phenomenon that theatrically changed the way gay men cruise. Nowadays, meeting other gay men for ‘casual fun’ takes place on a smart phone. Quick results plus it’s straightforward, effective and fuss-free. 

The Party Pass for Song Kran G-circuit 6 

The G-circuit opening party, one of three main parties, is held at a large convention hall at The Central World plaza, the following night. Looking at the gays in the queue outside, I wish I had spent more time in gym. Not all but many have beefed up and are ready to flex their muscles (literally!) Inside, needless to say, I come across a sea of gay men. Hundreds and hundreds of them coming from all directions; burly bears, fashionista queens, muscle Marys, skinny twinks, leather daddies, straight-acting machos and even some Clay Aikens (Well, thanks to Glee! We love everybody, right?) 

While pushing ourselves through the massive crowd, I come face-to-face with this Gaysian I’ve been friends with on Facebook, though we haven’t met in person. I, for the record, accepted his friend request and we interact often on Facebook either LIKE-ing or commenting on each other’s posts. Of course he recognizes me but pretends he didn’t see me. Our eyes meet again. This time, I take the high road and shoot him my megawatt smile, hoping to at least break the ice and perhaps say “hi” in person after all. He smiles back half-heartedly and turns away. I would run into him a few more times the next two days. But I don’t bother anymore. Middle school for me, ended a long time ago. This, by the way is very typical. In the gay world, it is all about “winning”. We are afraid of possible rejection especially coming from a fellow queen. We are all queen bees. We act precious. We don’t voluntarily go and say “Hi” to strangers. We instead wait for people to come and talk to us.

My Thai friend and I decide not to join the mad mob on the dance floor. Instead he leads me to the stage at the very end of the hall, darker and less crowded. At least here, we can breathe easy and not get shoved around every other second. I say hi to some folks I know, who are now on a euphoric stage, aided by ecstasy, shirtless, sweating and slurring. I look around. The scene is just as I expected; pretty boys and those who love them. Many are already sans t-shirts, ripped, rugged and ravishing wearing the preferred gay look of all time; goatee, crew cut, tight Diesel jeans bearing torso and mid section that have been painstakingly sculpted months in advance. 

Well, I may not look the standard G-circuit poster boy but I am not an Average Joe either, I believe. Flaunting my best asset, my defined 44-inch chest and my four pack (never six for the reason I don’t even bother anymore), I stand tall in my 6 foot 1 frame, a feat that is not easy to defeat among Gaysians. I start to sway… and sweat. Soon the music becomes louder. My vision clearer. And my mood, lighter. I begin to enjoy this all-men circus. Tony Moran, the Grammy-nominated Dj extraordinaire, is in the house. Almost everyone at this point has gone shirtless. Some fanning themselves to cool off from the heat, while some dancing wildly wearing shades. Yes, sunglasses in the club! I find that quite amusing. 

“It is what it is. I came all the way for this. And here I am.” I tell myself that repeatedly. My sarcasm, though I mercilessly deserted it at the door, keeps showing up, feverishly looking for me in the crowd. No chance! Leave me alone tonight.

“We are beautiful like diamonds in the sky” – sings Rihanna on her recent club anthem, “Diamonds” which, needless to say, resonates well with the crowd. Boys go wild every time the machines pump up smokes and neon green lacer lights fervently flicker as though a space ship from a “Star Wars” movie lands from the ceiling. Off we go moving along to pulsating electro beats churned out by Mr. Moran. I purposely don’t call this dancing as the space we each are entitled to limits any creative movement. Some may throw their hands up in the air or shake up themselves a bit harder as the Dj switches to faster louder rhythms. Many of us stay together in our own little cliques, only to leave every now and then to get drinks or ‘water’, which is the best selling drink of the night. We, among ourselves, would occasionally chitchat about issues and matters lighter than thin air. “What are you doing tomorrow?” “The gym at our hotel is too small” “I think the guy with the cap likes you”, etc.

“Meet my friend, he lives in Bali” – I get introduced to a number of people throughout the night. Some I may have met at least four times at different occasions before but still, they don’t remember me or so they pretend. Gay men do things that can’t be quite explained with any human language. Fathomably in a place like this. Nothing else matters but them.  They are constantly self-conscious, desperately trying to get noticed, fueled by chemicals and extremely tired but still keeping on as though this is nothing but an obligation.

“Wait! Did he just fall down?” Yes, he did. This cute Venezuelian guy I was talking to earlier in my very limited Spanish passes out and hits the ground. “He took G. And he must have mixed it with alcohol” says the tattooed guy I know from Bali. Man down! Trouble in Queer-dise! Honestly, it all looks a bit scary and worrying but he will live, as it seems. It’s almost 5am. My lower back is in agony. I need some shut eyes. I put my t-shirt back on. I flee.

The Morning After & Some Extra-curricular

Waking up the next day isn’t pretty. Most of us missed the morning anyway. By the time I get out to have lunch, it’s almost 3pm. Grumpy gays, suffering from sleep deprivation and fatigue move about like zombies from “The Walking Dead”. They all seem to be heading towards Siam Paragon food court for the combo meal of the day. Soon, they would have to head to gym, pump up muscles with whatever ounce of energy left and grab a bit of disco nap instead of dinner. After that, (You guessed it!), it’s time for party again.

Well, not me! After lunch, I pay homage to my old stomping ground. I have not been here for quite sometime. At least 5 or 6 years. Babylon sauna in Bangkok is a landmark for gay men. Not only is this the biggest gay sauna in Asia, also the most tasteful, well maintained and action-packed…almost always. Babylon hosts its famous foam parties, this time two days in a row to commemorate us gays in Songkran. When I arrive with two friends, it is almost 6pm. We are by now drenched and shivering a bit, as we got wet on Tuk-Tuk on the way. Of course, we expected it. It’s Songkran after all. The annual event when countries like Thailand, Myanmar and Cambodia celebrate their new year by throwing water on each other in order to drive away sins carried out in the previous year. Ironically, we gays are here to engage in more debaucheries. At Babylon, there are way too many men inside the venue that we have to wait 2 hours in line to get in and they only could provide one locker for four men. We change into our swimming gear in the locker room butt-to-butt and then it’s all game. The music at the venue is Top 40, familiar tunes on radio that one could sing along to. The pool is busy. The restaurant is full with towel-clad men dining or having drinks. Some are working out in the gym. There’s even one guy in speedo running barefoot on a treadmill. Next to the bar is the dance area where the foam machine in the middle is constantly filling up the floor with soapy bubbles, sometimes so much that it climbs up to the neck. Everyone is in festive mood; cheeky, open and very accommodating. Though mostly Gaysians, there are many different nationalities and I hear several different languages spoken. “I Love Bangkok”, declares my Chilean friend. “This is crazy. We don’t have this kind of party in Chile”, he enthuses as we dance to Jennifer Lopez’s “On The Floor” in our slippery-selves.

After almost three hours of frolicking in my skimpy Aussiebum, I’m in need of somewhere warm. So I march to the dry sauna. There I sit with two bored Gaysians who have been in there before me. A few minutes pass and the sauna door opens. Enters a tall muscular man in his late 30s. Not traditionally handsome but he has strong manly features; thick lips, wide brown eyes and very square jaw. “He must be a Latino”, I think to myself while glancing at his roughly trimmed hair all over his chiseled torso. He must have come, fresh out of shower. He appears to be soaking wet and his white D&G swimwear does very little to cover his certain (not so little) body part. In fact he is certainly aware and obviously proud of his immense God-given gift. He probably knows where my eyes have just lingered too. Calmly he sits right next to me while I try to gather my now diverted thoughts for the next ten minutes. Two Gaysians have left the cabin one after another by the time I feel a soft kick on my leg. I look up to his direction and our eyes meet for the first time. “You are very tall for an Asian” he murmurs in his Californian accent. He says something else too. And… something else afterwards. I don’t remember. The tiny room suddenly gets warmer.

I adore Bangkok and I need it every now and then. From fantastic shopping, divine Thai food to incredible nightlife and exciting gay scene, the city offers what other Asian cities can only dream of. Likewise, I don’t mind being around gays and doing round-the-clock gay activities once in a while. Nothing wrong with a celebration of somewhat hedonistic culture that we help popularize. Bangkok is sexy. It’s a happening. In addition to ever-present urban energy of a metropolis, Bangkok pulsates with tangible sexual energy especially during an event like Songkran G-circuit. It is in the air. It’s on BTS, on taxis, in the parks, at 7Elevens and oozing out of people. Songkran G-Circuit experience reminds me of Carnival in Rio de Janeiro.

All you wanna do is…debauch and be naughty. Really, really naughty.

American Idol 2013 : Top 5

Do people still care about American Idol after all these years?  Yes, many still do. American Idol still remains as a reality TV competition that has given birth to some of the biggest stars in today’s American music (Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, Katherine McPhee, Jennifer Hudson, Adam Lambert to name a few) and is continuing to do so as it celebrates its 12^th year in the business. However, truth to be told, even with the star-studded judging panel this year, the ratings are dropping like nobody’s business. 

On the judging panel, Mariah Carey, initially a dreary I-love-everyone yawn, has stepped up her game and become somewhat bearable, finally up for sharing a tiny dose of her personality, which many doubt she even possesses at all after playing Miss Goodie two-shoes for too long since the show started. At least her comments make more sense now and she looks slightly more comfortable being on live TV. Nicki Minaj has a whole lot of entertainment value but the truth is… Why should the talented contestants, or anyone really, listen to her critique on "singing" considering that all she does professionally is rap while putting on weird costumes as if everyday was Halloween? Honestly, she seems rather unfit for a talent show like this. A pleasant surprise this season is Randy Jackson, the only remaining original judge since day one, who not only offers constructive criticism but also surprises the audience by proving that he knows expressions other than “Dude, you are in it to win it”. And last but not least, Keith Urban, the only judge in the competition who is worth every penny he was paid to do the job. Quiet, classy and he knows what he is doing. His feedbacks on contestants’ performances are always on point, professional and pragmatic. We thank God for that.

Anyway, the competition has been carefully filtered and sorted that it is now down to the Top 5. Personally, I couldn’t agree more with what America has voted for so far. The five remaining candidates, all girls, are one of the best Top 5 selections ever in the American Idol history. Not only are they versatile, raw and praiseworthy talents but also they sound and act like true professionals.  

But as we all know, there can only be one winner in the end. And here they are, my personal Top-5 pick.

5^th) Janelle Arthur 

To me, she’s one-dimensional. She sings country and has this natural southern charm. Her twangy accent is partly the reason why America has kept her this long in the competition. That being said, her talent is not to be ridiculed, nor her bubbly persona that everyone could easily fall in love with. When she sings, even those who don’t like country music will stop and stare. Janelle has been consistently great in what she does best that even if she doesn’t win, she will have no difficulty landing a recording contract with some Nashville-based record company. 

  

4^th) Amber Holcomb

Amber is a whole package; a beautiful face, a pair of sexy legs and a voice that could move mountains. Yet, she still finds herself often in the bottom three. Her gutsy performances of Beyoncé’s “Love On Top”, Whitney Houston’s “I Believe In You And Me” and most recently Barbra Streisand’s “What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life” not only showcase her willingness to experiment with different genres, stretching herself artistically but also highlight her glorious voice by effectively putting her signature stamp on such challenging songs. She struggles a bit when singing low but her strength lies in her big mammoth money notes. Though her days may be numbered on the show, she has proven enough that this won’t be the last we see of her. 

   

3^rd) Angie Miller

An early favorite this season. All that talk about her eventually winning started when she played her own self-penned song and won judges’ adoration during Hollywood week 3. But the truth is there’s so much more to her than a great singing voice. She is a full-fledged artist. She’s ready to sell.  She performs with ease on stage, sometimes even taking on a dual task of simultaneously playing piano and singing gravity-defying high notes. She’s heading for the Top 3 and there’s no stopping her. She’s the most marketable among all five. Her tone is unique, recognizable and she could find audience in pop/rock genre like Kelly Clarkson and Pink. 

   

2^nd) Kree Harrison 

Kree is a natural born singer. Her rich velvety tone is her biggest asset. Not to mention her ability to soar high and come down low when necessary to give emotive effects. She could sing Blues, Country, Rock, Pop and even Jazz, if she tries. Plus she has this wholesome all-American girl image that could propel her to victory. Her good old voice shines on “With The Little Help From My Friends” by “The Beatles”, Roy Orbison’s “Cryin” and Janis Joplin’s “Piece Of My Heart” – but to market her would be an arduous task as today’s mainstream music world is all about image rather than artistry. Artists like her, who rely solely on voice, may need a great song-writing team that churn out hits for her. 

  

1^st) Candice Glover

Hands down the best vocalist in the entire season. Mary J Blige meets Whitney Houston; Candice can warble anything from soaring sappy ballads, high-strung R’nB numbers to soul-bearing slow jams like a veteran crooner who’s been doing this for a long time. Her delivery is almost always flawless and her fierce voice, on fire, getting the judges on their feet every time she graces the Idol stage. As it also seems Candice is Mariah Carey’s pet. (After her brilliant rendition of The Cure’s “Love Song”, Carey glitter-bombed her to show some love) If, Mariah Carey, arguably one of the top-5 best singers ALIVE in today’s music adores you, that means you are doing something good. And Candice never fails to acknowledge Mariah and her undeniable influence on Pop music by doing difficult melismatic vocal runs that nobody but only her and perhaps Mariah could do at every given chance. I’m sorry, folks, we clearly have a Jennifer Hudson 2013, only that this time, she is GOING to win.

  

~ One Night in Saigon ~

It’s 6:15 pm. Orangey sunrays are swiftly turning deep red and making an exit below the horizon. Glittering night-lights oozing out of heritage buildings begin to wrestle with the fast approaching darkness. Not only are they potent enough to hold their own but at times seem overpowering. Neatly groomed Dong Quoi Street in the fashionable District 1 is busier than ever; folks who are returning home from a day’s work as well as those who come out to simply soak in the vibrant urban energy on a cool dry day like this. Dong Quai starts from the southern point of Saigon river and travels up north towards Saigon Notre-Dame Basilica, where it comes to an end. Over the garden spaces near the church, local families and tourists alike are seen enjoying an evening picnic.

   

Tourists like me can’t stop marveling at the French colonial architecture in the city. Most notably, the Saigon Opera House, which has survived the urbanization wave for over a century and is still used to entertain theatregoers and music lovers today. A mere block away from the Opera, sits the grand old Hotel De Ville Saigon, presently known as Ho Chi Minh city hall, just as the city has changed its old name “Saigon” to “Ho Chi Minh City”. In front of this regal structure stands the statue of Ho chi minh, the country’s beloved national hero, and a child, depicting his intellect and compassion for the weakest member of society, while the flag of Vietnam, scarlet red pierced by a single bright yellow star in the middle, flies gallantly under the night sky. These historical edifices, including the newly refurbished Vincom center, the city’s largest luxury shopping mall, are painstakingly restored and elegantly illuminated, creating an epic romantic affair for nightly promenade seekers. Chic cafés, fancy restaurants, inviting art galleries and handicraft shops along Dong Quoi Street are sure to distract visitors from their leisurely stroll. There’s so much to see and so many beautiful things to buy on this street.

Velocity of a Vesper

To view vivacious nightlife in the vicinities, I venture out on a Vietnamese vesper. Arrrrm…that’s a lot of “v” in a sentence! Seriously though, I can’t think of a better way to explore than sitting at the back of a restored 60’s style vesper while my beloved Canon snaps away actions on the mean streets of Saigon. The Vesper Adventures, founded by an American expat, operates various tours in the city and the surroundings for both day and night. The driver picks me up from my hotel and takes me to Zoom café where meet & greet session with other participants over sunset drinks takes place. “Vietnamese like to go around town on their bikes aimlessly at night. It’s our favorite national pastime,” explains our guide, a young energetic girl with nerdy specs, all the while yakking up the storm with guests. I immediately give her a nickname Chatty Cathy.

  

Prowling through the massive crowds of motorbikes at first is petrifying but once I get used to the speed, it becomes exhilarating. Knowing I am not in control makes me want to lose it even further. Once the traffic turns green, a myriad of motorbikes and cars pop out from all directions. Fast and furious, lights flicker and heated engines roar in unison. It seems to me that together, these motorists form a mental network where they send and receive abstract signals to one another. They are wondrously in sync. They all seem to know where they are going, what measures to be taken and most importantly, respect each other’s space. Before my visit, I had been warned about the chaotic traffic. But in reality, it is far more civilized and controlled than any other South East Asian metropolises.

  

Savoring Street food

Nestled in the residential District 4, quite unlike the touristy District 1, this small seafood restaurant on the side of the main road is our first stop. Crabs, clams, snails and mussels are placed in trays right next to glass tanks that house live fishes and eels. Fat frogs sit in a tank submerged in shallow water, looking mean and certainly unhappy. A man hastily pulls out two frogs and takes them to the kitchen as we sit at the table. Soon we hear the sound of knife meeting a chopping board.

    
    

                                                  

Our other guide, a 20-something Vietnamese fellow, tells us that the restaurant has prepared a menu with local favorites. First arrive the steamed crab legs. To eat them is simple; the Vietnamese way. Crack open the shells and rub their tender juicy flesh with a special seafood sauce, a mixture of grounded sea salt and crushed coarse pepper with a lime squeezed into the mix. Next is the clam soup cooked in ginger and fish broth. It has a very sharp spicy taste without having the presence of chili. The zesty kick must be coming from the galangal and ginger mix. Then it’s time for the second appetizer; grilled mussels, garnished with crumbled peanuts, chopped spring onions and cut red chili. The Vietnamese mussels, which come from the southern coast, are not too big but due to their freshness and the smokiness from the chargrill make it the most memorable dish of the night. Can even the best be thrilling enough? A waitress brings out our main course, a plate of wok-fried rice vermicelli and a dish of sizzling jumping chicken. The latter is a revelation. I rarely eat frog and this is the first time I’ve had it deep-fried. The cooking style is modest; after the deep-frying process, glaze them in the pan with a bit of sugar and fish sauce. However, there’s something in that divine fish sauce that can’t be explained with words. Fish sauce certainly is Vietnam’s answer to France’s butter. 

More to munch

   

More food is coming my way. I am full yet not complaining. I had wished to immerse myself in Vietnamese cuisine. I am here to devour as much as my stomach allows. In District 3, a southern delicacy called Banh Xeo has been winning the hearts of locals and tourists alike for generations. It is a thin crepe-like dish with sprouts and shrimps toppings. Call it Vietnamese pancake, crepe, pizza or dosa. What makes this dish exceptional is the way you eat it. “First you tear a piece of crunchy Banh Xeo, then you wrap it up in lettuce leaf, add fresh herbs of your choice like mint or coriander, then dip it in fish sauce and eat”, instructs our guide. Vietnamese fish sauce dip is a combination of vinegar, sugar, water, lime juice with bird’s eye chilis and finely chopped garlic floating in it. Those who prefer sweeter taste dip theirs in peanut sauce instead, which comes accompanying the world famous, crispy deep-fried spring rolls.

   

   
                                 

   

Vietnamese cuisine in general is a balanced diet. The principal of yin and yang is applied in the cooking style. There’s always something green, raw and organic element escorting anything that is cooked. I am hugely inspired by the minimal use of oil and reliance on fresh herbs and natural distinctive flavors of ingredients. This philosophy is reflected in Goi Cuon(salad rolls). Pork, prawn, vegetables, rice vermicelli and fresh herbs such as mint or coriander are wrapped in rice paper (banh trang).  When our Chatty Cathy starts demonstrating how to prepare grilling thinly sliced marinated beef, I am at this point where I must abandon my deliciously chilled Saigon beer in order to make room. With that I also realize that at Vietnamese restaurants, one can’t complain much about the service because, from picking out ingredients, preparing dishes to choosing the sauce, you do things all on your own and it’s all up to you.

Romance Room

I would not have been able to find this café on my own if it weren’t part of the vesper tour. Our guide leads us through a dark and dingy passage to an old seedy building. He gives us yet another warning to be quiet when we enter. We follow him doubtfully up the dark wiggly stairways like a bunch of obedient kindergarteners. Café Vung is definitely not your typical coffee joint. Lit only by candles and tiny Christmas tree lights, it feels more like someone’s living room. Low chairs, small stools and tables are cramped in a very tiny area divided by a wall with two entrances on each side. A pretty round-faced girl, her frame may be petite but certainly not her vocals, is performing a sweeping Vietnamese ballad to a packed house. Love is in the air. Romantic atmosphere clearly attracts lovers who make up more than half of the room. Some patrons are leaning back; sitting comfortably and enjoying the live music while others are quietly going on with their smart phones, possibly ‘checking-in’.

   

2-piece band, consisting a pianist and violinist only, plays mostly melancholy Vietnamese music but every now and then, would break out into shortened version of songs like “Casablanca” or “Moon River”.  I order my now staple, iced-Vietnamese coffee. Unlike in the west, we in Asia like our coffee or tea milky and sweet. I personally treat it as a dessert, a commemoration of a successful completion of a meal. Malaysia’s white coffee, Singapore’s Teh Tarik , Myanmar’s Lat-phat-yay and Hong Kong’s milk tea follow more or less the same formula and the secret ingredient? The delightful condensed milk! This hidden cafe is definitely an experience to remember. Not only for its exquisite live music performed without microphone and amplifier but also for a chance to glance at a locals’ favorite chill-out hub. 

Acoustic Aid

                                                         

“Emotion talks” says the logo of this live music joint, simply named, “Acoustic”, the last sojourn of the night. What a perfect way to end a night that has already been filled with thrills. “Acoustic” is located at the very end of a small alley, which also houses several other restaurants and live music pubs. An old Volkswagen, lit inside and rested against a wall, sets a Rock & Roll mood. The small venue is jam-packed tonight with mostly Saigonites who sit in rows listening to a cover band on stage play 4 Non Blondes’s iconic rock anthem “What’s up” as though they were watching a Puccini. Another band takes over after that song and the atmosphere gets steamier. Santana’s “Maria, Maria” blows ultra sexy vibe into the room. If this was in some South American country, I could see people grinding up on each other dancing wildly. How can you resist such invigorating music? I don’t know about others but I am swaying along holding my G&T. What a night! But I don’t want to call it a night just yet.