Holi Intermission

There is a widely-celebrated festival in South Asia called Holi, or the Festival of Colors. This festival is known as a celebration of love and serves to usher in Spring but the roots of the holiday grow from a story in the Hindu religion about Prahlada, the son of a demon king.  Apparently, Prahlada’s father (Hiranyakashipu) had a bit of an ego problem, demanding that everyone worship him alone.  Prahlada, however, was an avid follower of the Hindu religion’s god, Vishnu, and he refused to worship his father. Enraged, Hiranyakashipu tried multiple times to kill his son, but with no success. Hiranyakashipu’s final defeat came when he Prahlada tied to a pyre and set the whole thing on fire. According to the Hindu religion, Prahlada prayed to Vishnu for protection and he walked away unharmed. (What a father-son dynamic.)

Today, Holi is celebrated in varying ways according to the region in which it is being observed. For some, the festival marks a time of throwing tomatoes on family, friends, and strangers alike. For others, it translates to a week of singing and dancing in the streets. Some parts of the world celebrate Holi on one day and others celebrate for a month.

My introduction to Holi came in the form of a water balloon aimed right at my face. As I stood, dripping in the park outside my office on a lunch break, my coworkers breathlessly explained (through doubled-over laughter) that in the city where I live, Holi is celebrated by throwing colors at others. Originally, people threw colored powder at each other but the colored water balloon method seems to have caught on. The culprit in this case was a school-aged boy repeatedly throwing balloons from his third story balcony across the street. I must admit, he has impeccable aim.

Holi isn’t until March 27^th but there are obviously some who cannot wait to pelt passers-by. Honestly, I don’t blame them. Holi is like Halloween for all ages- but it encourages people in the community to “let go” and play in a way that Halloween only hints at. Here is Google Image Search’s depiction of Holi:

My [pasty] skin makes me a walking canvas (and therefore a prime target) for all of the inevitable reds and blues that will be flying around in the next couple weeks. I have been warned to watch where I walk. Listening to one of my co-workers excitedly discussing Holi street-walking strategies reminds me of watching freshman guys at my undergraduate school prepare for Nerf wars in their dorms. I have been invited to a Holi party on the 27^th so I’ll make sure to report back.

Sincerely,

Alice

 

Knots

I have been sitting in front of my key board for some time now, trying to get my thoughts together in a way that will put a nice bow on my experience over these past couple of weeks. So far, all I am coming up with are knots. Bear with me as I try to untangle a few of them:

Knot One: Two weeks ago, culture shock drop-kicked me in the face. Almost overnight, I lost my any appetite for South Asian food and found myself more and more frustrated by the little stressors of being in a new place. Sheer exhaustion- combined with an awesome but demanding internship, and a host of new friends and families I am beginning to get to know-has forced me to recognize that I feel overwhelmed. I am ready to feel comfortable, safe, and at-home. But I don’t yet and that’s ok.

Knot Two: This morning I woke up sweating. This is after removing all but one sheet on my bed, opening the window, and turning on the fan. Short of getting an air conditioner, there is not much to do other than laugh it off at this point and joke with others about how “Alice is going to perish come May”. Earlier, I walked to church squinting behind dark sunglasses and shading myself with a large scarf wrapped around my head as protection from the sun. For a fleeting moment, I imagined myself as a young Audrey Hepburn but the dream died as soon as my scarf got caught in the rickshaw seat while I was getting out of the car.

Knot Three: Interning with IJM is proving to be valuable in a myriad of ways. There are very few staff members in the office where I work, which means that I am being given lots of substantial responsibilities and opportunities to contribute. There is so much to learn. Recently, though, there has  been an increase in the number of articles being published on bonded labour in South Asia (click here, and here, AND here!). That public attention to an important issue has given myself and the rest of the office something to celebrate over these past few days.   

Knot Four: I keep meeting interesting people. Like a three year old girl named Swastika. Her parents explained that the swastika symbol is an auspicious sign for the Hindu god called Lord Ganesh, revered as the Remover of Obstacles. His elephant head makes him easy to recognize. Swastika’s parents seemed a bit concerned about any future travel plans she may make to Germany. I also met a holder of a Guinness World Record. He earned his title for having the largest mass of bees on his body at one time. So I bought some of his honey.

This is Lord Ganesh in household idol form:

 Knot Five: In the past couple months, my ears have slowly become attuned to the larger, public conversations swirling all around this city: things like gender issues, labour issues, joint family systems, generation gaps, public education, and imperialism are thought about and discussed. As a Sociology student in college, a lot of these topics are familiar, but being in a different part of the world is throwing them into a completely new light for me.

Amidst the knots of my life, there is so much space for Hope. Hope is in the bonded labour articles I mentioned above, and the implications they have on the awareness of bonded labour as a national issue. It is in the promise of getting an air conditioner installed this month. It is in the fact that Indian food has not made me sick for weeks. It is in the beautiful blossoms of the red silk cotton trees all over the city.

There is so much room for prayer here. If you pray, pray for people in power to respond well to bonded labour in South Asia. Pray that I see culture shock as a series of chances to learn; to learn about another culture, to learn about God’s creativity, to learn about myself. And please, pray for strength as my body adjusts to the heat (it’s really quite pathetic)!

More to come!

Sincerely,

Alice

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