Did my extremely original title suck you in? Excellent.
Last Thursday was the Hindi holiday of Holi, during which a substantial majority of India’s population puts on ratty clothes, forgets any sense of privacy and personal space they might have had before (which probably wasn’t much), and spends all morning (the afternoon is reserved for baths and naps) attacking friends, family, and total strangers with colored powder, colored liquid, colored foam, and dirt, mud, buckets of water, raw eggs, cups of hot chai, and any combination of the above items, as the case may have it. Raina and Ariella now have semi-permanently died hair a la emo teenagers, and I am still cleaning red powder out of my ears.
Holi photos from around India from The Atlantic (stunning)
And a few photos of our own: (from Raina’s and Ariella’s cameras)
If Facebook thinks we’re friends, you should be able to see Ariella’s entire Holi FB album.
Half baked thought #1:
Raina and I ate dinner last night with a group of three Americans, who are in Bhuj looking at textiles and block printing. They’re from DC, where Raina just lived for two years, so we had plenty to talk about (I did my best to keep up, what with my three broke months there in 2010). We talked about a café called Teaism, a 3-table Thai restaurant that serves you whatever they bought at the market that morning (and has two month waiting list for reservations), and “smiking” (this word is new to me too, apparently it’s “smoking pot while biking”, which you do in groups and apparently is all the rage these days). It occurred to me that not once since I have been in India have I actively sought authenticity or uniqueness, which I believe are what the three above mentioned places and activities are trying to sell.
Now, I’m not so naïve as to argue that life in India is any more authentic than life in Friendship Heights, or that poverty (or a fellowship in international development, for that matter) is more real than a Continue reading