Anthropological wreck

This post is written slightly hungover after I've scrubbed the livingroom floor clean for Jameson 'n' apple. I'm done with my exams and haven't had anything anthropology-related course literature in more than a year, yet I can't stop thinking about anthropological phenomenons when I see one - and last night I was in one.

I hosted my work's annual Summer Party and although Malinowski preached field work in woob woob locations, I believe you can do field work right here. Or so my boss reminds me so I won't go eloping too much. But I am sure I was at the centre of an anthropological study last night, as people acted so abnormally correct within the boundaries of their social groups.

Muchachas rubias: Our Argentinean friend couldn't stop smiling when he saw the theme for the party - Hawaii. Hibiscus flowers, colourful balloons and a matching swimming pool all gave away the desired destination, and the matching blonde girls matched the interior perfectly. By chance all the girls at work are blonde, and with no reference to intelligence (I got into both master degrees), blonde girls are quite interesting if you start stereotyping. 1) If someone takes a photo, all girls drag out their camera and want the exact same photo to be taken with their camera. Because no-one shares photos on Facebook anymore appearantly... 2) When the food is ready everyone continues sitting polite at the table, waiting for someone else to go for the food tray. We all need food, for crying out loud, and I know you're hungry, so just help yourself! 3) Soccer is a big no no. Everyone loudly condemned the soccer watching guys, yet snuck in to get a quick Ronaldo-fix during a wee-break.

Yummy mummy: MILF is a term everyone learned off American Pie, yet "yummy mummy" is something girls strive to be (one day in the far far future) and all guys wish they could have (just wait). Yet having a three month old baby and still looking gorgeous just oozes respect.

WAGs: my job is owned and run by two cool guys and naturally they both have fantastic wives. Far from the Beckham/Rooney craze of Bvgari boobs and Vuitton vaginas, these ladies are supportive of their men, dedicated to family life and career women of their own. Think there's someone else who deserves some respect.

Socceroos: Yes, the Euro Cup is on. Yes, Italy lost, but we won't talk about that. Yes, there's four hours of football on every night, yet this didn't stop some of the party people from spending time in front of the telly, ignoring the sun outside to cheer on goals by Portugal. The interesting part is that the blonde chicks often snuck in to get an update on the score, and crammed together on the floor in their high heels and airy dresses.

Old boys: I won't mention names here, but someone did fit into the description "old boys." The war was discussed, these people actually remembered Paolo Rossi and his 1982 soccer career, and was old enough to watch the game in a pub with accompagnying beer. They were not the centre of the party, and probably hadn't been for some decades, yet gave it a delightful twist and shifted the focus away from the latest Sex and the City movie.

And where am I in all of this? Well, appearantly a good anthropologist should mingle with the locals and try to observe without obstructing. I did my best. I handed over my camera and smiled to the "Cheese". I'm far from a yummy mummy (due to lack of baby, not yumminess of course), yet looked in admiration on the parents nurturing their offspring. I'll be the first to admit I did watch the soccer, Helga even sent an e-mail around this morning stating why we should barrack for Portugal (his name starts with an Rrrr and I think he was topless in the photo). I got a book from one of the old boys, Everything you should know about Norway, and it was great, because it was probably one book I would never consider buying myself.

I always look abroad for experiences and destinations, but it seems like you don't always have to go overseas - neither for holidays nor field work.