After a salsa lesson that was more stressful and sweaty than syncopated we sat, dazed, and watched the Cuban International Womens' Day shindig. Everyone piled into the Casa for dancing, drinking and lurid coloured cake. A young woman ran around as a sort of vajazzled swan, and rum and coke got spilt with abandon. It was like a bit like a lock in at your local, if your local had bougainvillea growing from the ceiling, and couples dry humping each other as entertainment.
Favorite sketch from that day, two women sharing one chair.