This is a pre-scheduled post due to the fact that I am in South Sudan.

I’m introducing a new Category to this blog – the Intermezzo – to write about things that for some reason didn’t fit the “Journey Journal”.
“In music, an intermezzo (Italian pronunciation: [ˌintɛrˈmɛddzo]), in the most general sense, is a composition which fits between other musical or dramatic entities, such as acts of a play or movements of a larger musical work.” [1]

I spend my last new years eve at the Sadhana forest project in Auroville. A bunch of alternative or alternative-seeking people in wooden huts in the middle of a forest. It was so peaceful. An open mic night without mic, a no talent show as they called it, vegan food, mud pool swimming, campfire guitar/violin live music 40 sweaty hugs and one single lost rocket in the distance thats how 2014 left the stage and 2015 got its cue to come on.
Around 1:00 I left to meet some friends at another party. We had planned to watch the sunrise at the beach. Arriving at the location the bouncers try to charge me the higher couple price for the entrance. A official ticket is not involved so its quite clear where that money will go. In the end I manage to get in for free by pretending to belong to two dressed up girls and keep talking and walking till the bouncer has to go back to the entrance due to some intoxication related irregularities.
The party area is a mess. Beer cans lying around everywhere. Vegitation trampled. I don’t recognize the area from a couple of nights ago when we were sitting here around a campfire with dichereedoo and guitar jamming along. One of the danish organizers (the dicheredoo player) greets me cheerful but he looks wornout. Loud club music is playing but there is no dancing. The DJ is changing the songs every 30 seconds with horrible transitions. The intoxicated people have barely time to recognize the song that is playing. Which would be kinda acceptable if there was a continious beat. Matt spots me greets me enthousiastic. He loves the party. His eyes tell me he is pretty far gone. The brazilian volunteer is hanging around with a, in my eyes, pretty ugly guy apparently not sure if she wants him to kiss her or not. Its kinda akward. Adeti is the only one who seems to be more or less sober. So we end up sitting at the side watching people fall, shouting, starting fights, flirting in a way that you could call a lab dance subtle. We try to make this party work for us for a while by dancing but it is a useless exercise so we just wait for the others to get ready to go to the beach. This party can’t be enjoyed without alcohol.
And while I sit there starring at the scenes I suddenly think that this could work as a metaphor for the socio-economical situation in the world. Me being the outsider country joining the party of neo-liberal industrialization at a late point. The gatekeepers try to scam me for personal gain but in the end I get in for free because I’m worth more on the inside consuming the overprized low quality beer they offer. Coming from a quite and alternative way of doing things I am overwhelmed by the lights and the loud noise that is present here. The guys who started it seem cheerful but don’t look actually happy. And the participants that were there from the beginning are drunk, high on fossil fuels not realizing how disgusting the area has become, how rude they are, how vulgar they appear in my eyes. They are shorttempered and violent. I make an effort to be part of it but end up on the sideline shaking my head. Hoping we will leave soon for the beach.
And the drunken west keeps telling eachother that this is the best party ever till they actually start believing it.
In the end Adeti and I are the only ones actually enjoying the sunrise. The others have fallen asleep on the beach – missing out on some real beauty.