Mona Kai dance pumped up, flip-flops

Christiana Frisby, Issue 26, Mona Kai, opinions, Opinion - By Sean Bahar on Thursday, April 19, 2012 - 04:16

As I walked up the hill from Stauffer to the Harris Amphitheater parking lot, which has been referred to by students as “the desert,” I was not greeted with bare-skinned, sweaty dancers as I had anticipated. No, no—I was greeted with bright red and blue lights attached to black and white stripes and a line of stiff police officers. A crowd was being cleared from the tent, and a wave of confusion hit me, “What is going on?”

Whispers of Mona Kai fluttered about campus all year long, and it was finally here. But where was the parking garage filled with 60 tons of sand and a fancy party bus shuttle system I had heard all about? It did have somewhere near 40 tons of sand and it was in a parking facility, but what of the world renowned, electric dance music artist, Na Palm? I’ve never heard of him.
Although I probably wouldn’t have since I don’t like listening to boys express their excitement about having sex with lyrics like, “Make your booty bounce, bounce like a [bad check?]/she ride my [expletive], she’s extra tight/you best believe we having sex tonight.” That is quite an artistic description of these intimate events, I will give him that. Mona Kai fell short of the expectations I had, and I am sure I am not the only one who felt this way.

When I approached the tent, I was abruptly told to leave by a Campus Safety officer; the dance was shut down. Well, shucks. It closed less than an hour early, at least. I turned from the tent and found myself gazing into the mouth of a German Shepherd’s slobbery jowls through the window of a K9 unit. Only then did I realize how many police cars there were. My recollection tells me around eight, though I did not count.

A student struggled in a golf cart while his wrists were being cuffed. People were moaning and groaning away from the tent, and I chatted with a fellow holding a camera. He explained to me that the dance was closed due to noise complaints from neighbors. People were clearly disappointed by this, especially if they did not have the chance to get inside—scuffing their feet and trudging back to their rooms like myself.

This was the Lancer’s first event since being reinstated; of course they would have strict regulations following their suspension—and good for the school too, having at those scallywags! As for the handcuffing, it’s only realistic to think college kids could get a little carried away. But for $12,000, the event was not very impressive to me.

The most shocking thing was the amount of sand. Granted, this might have been the main event of the dance; it could have been a fancy shuttle system taking me to the beach for that much. A tent in the middle of the school parking lot, however convenient that may be for those pre-partiers, is not a raging destination point. Maybe next year Mona Kai could have a more fitting venue where noise complaints would be less likely to occur and students would be able to escape the confines of school. There will be more parties with sweaty people and explicit music to come. Don’t worry, folks.