There was a party at the end of our street last night. Thankfully it wasn’t another Mexican party and it wasn’t organized by any foreigners.

I walked down the road and was met by Carlos, who had apparently been waiting for me. We went to Jonny’s house and drank a liter and a half of tua sabu (palm brandy) with two cans of beer for mixers.

As usual, the conversation tended to focus on girls with big boobs. We also set a date for when I will be presented with a FRETILIN T-shirt and hat to take home and wear in England.

They told me that most foreigners, Italians especially, usually don’t give them the time of day, so for me to be at one of their houses drinking is an interesting experience.

I was already drunk by the time we left Jonny’s. We had a pack of Marlboro Lights between us, which I had to put in my pocket and keep secret. Every time someone wanted one I was to reach into my pocket and covertly pull one out of the pack.

At the party it was the usual Timorese festivities: music, dancing, drinking. People were surprised to see me – I’d say some of them were apprehensive about me being there. This happens quite a lot when I’m introduced to groups of Timorese people: usually someone will put in a good word on my behalf to convince people that I’m all right. I think more than anything people just weren’t sure how to respond to my presence.

Being drunk, I committed a major faux pas early on. A man with long hair and a beard was talking to me when he suddenly had the urge to dance. He dragged me to the dance and, me not knowing what else to do, we danced for about a minute before Carlos, looking agitated, waved me over.

“You can’t dance with him. He’s crazy,” he said. “Come on. Sit down here.”

So we sat down and I tried to figure out why I’d started dancing in the first place. I met a few more people and soon enough we were drinking again. The girls at the party had donned their Sunday bests and were hamming it up on the dance floor with the guys.

I wasn’t always sure what people were saying to me, but I had a few excited conversations. It got to about 12.30 am and the party was coming to an end. It was while walking back to Jonny’s house that I realized I was hammered. I couldn’t walk in a straight line so I just kind of shuffled up the road.

The crazy man came with us, too, and brought with him a bottle of tua sabu. I couldn’t drink any more so I staggered home and went to bed.