Diva

In our little branch here, there are loads of Filipinos. Filipinos? you ask, but aren't you in Israel? Yes, but I tell you what, Israel has loads of people from the Philippines. And I love them. 

So this past Saturday was the birthday bash for 1 year-old J-Lo (that's not a typo), a ridiculously adorable little thing. Her parents are a humble, yet happy couple from the Philippines with little means. Apparently, though, in their culture, they splurge on these massive parties for the 1st birthday of their offspring. Apparently, they had been able to secure a restaurant for the event. So Saturday evening, John, Sabey, Nydia and I set out in search of the "Diva" resaurant for the party. 

When we arrived at "Diva," we found ourselves in a really dodgy area. This is when my mind began working out my surroundings. Are there normally big burly bouncers outside of a restaurant housing a birthday party of a 1 year-old? I asked myself. We walked into the building only find that it was just a massive open room exploding with gawdy decorations, incredible food, a woman dressed as Minnie Mouse MCing the event, and about 300 Filipinos. In other words, it was the paradise I've been longing for since I arrived in Israel over a month ago.

I quickly made my way to the buffet and found an incredible feast waiting. The DJ was busting out some killer tunes to which me and my quickly-acquired posse of Filipinos were jamming to. They assured me "the real crazy party" started much much later, after this little bash was over. My eyes kept wandering to interesting elements of the giant room that hinted at its real identity. There was a stage located in the front of the room that was full of decorations, presents, people performing various musical numbers, and firecrackers going off. In the madness, I noticed that pink tissue paper and bright yellow streamers were draped over posters for "Caberet."  

Oh, maybe this place is used for musical theatre, I thought. Cool. "Gosh, I love Liza," I thought as 15 children on the stage started to sing "Happy Birthday" to little JLo, who was decked in a huge pink satin dress and cradled in her father's arms. Soon, my eyes wandered to the back of the joint, where a long bar was located. Above the bottles of Beefeater and Absolut, I noticed two massive paintings of 6 very sassy, scantily-clad women. Wait a minute, I thought, what kind of place is this? 

It took a few more minutes, but on closer inspection, I realized that the women in the paintings were, in fact, not women at all. They were drag queens. Wait. Then it dawned on me. Diva. Dodgy part of Tel-Aviv. Liza. 

Oh.