Holi - The Indian Festival of Colors

Happy Holi... Yet another festival in India.


John and I celebrated Holi two times this year... I think we are making up for all of the Holi celebrations we have missed in the past. Scott is in the middle of busy season and couldn't join us for the celebration... Although I think if he could, he might be tempted to skip it anyway.


Here is a Picture of me, Dr. Pat, and Greta at our first celebration... It was the 'Full Moon, Holi, Hash'. Every full moon the Hyderabad Hash House Harriers gather for a run at night. This one fell on the night before Holi... so it was a Holi Hash.


Here is a picture of some Hashers with John after our run... and color extravaganza.


John was really excited about this... this is the first time we have allowed him to celebrate Holi.



Ed, Greta, George and Dave were at the run... We had such a good time. Dave is my favorite running buddy.


Here is a picture of John after we got home and before we got in the shower.


I did a little research and I'm more confused than ever as to why we celebrate Holi. Apparently there are many different ideas of why we celebrate and how to celebrate. I guess it all just boils down to the, "Because it's fun" category.

One story I read tells us that we celebrate Holi to commemorate the escape of Pralad from the clutches of his evil father Hirnakashyup... (This is exactly why I named my son John Smith). Supposedly, Pralads aunt Holika could walk through fire without getting hurt... so Hirnakashyup who wanted to kill his son Pralad, (and you talk about your horrible childhood) asked aunt Holika to take Pralad for a little walk... Long story short Pralad comes out of the fire unharmed not Holika... Jokes on you mean Aunt Holika... although you now have an entire festival named after you.
I guess this is why we set bon fires the night before... With a scarecrow looking man in the middle of the fire... or is that a woman?

That story explains the fires, but not the colors? I've heard some say that it is a celebration of spring and all the colors the changing of the seasons bring. That this comes at the beginning of my favorite season in India makes sense to me... (favorite season being Mango season).

Above are some of the colors John and I brought to the celebration we went to the morning of Holi. The festivities were held in our neighborhood. We wanted to have a safe and kid friendly party, so the neighbors got together and decided to only have organic colors. The problem with this is that the organic colors are made of flour and herbs. Have I mentioned it is a very dry 100 degrees here in Hyderabad? The colors I brought hatched little insects. It was funny watching some of the neighborhood girls go up and start to grab the powder to toss at their friends, only to see the little bugs crawling around in the powder and then watching the girls run away... usually shrieking.

I call this picture, 'Tra-la-la... I'm messy and not in school.'.

The "modern tradition" of celebrating Holi is by smearing each other's faces with colored powder and throwing colored water on each other. People sometimes take out processions on streets that feature folk songs, dances, and of course drums... really loud drums.

Also it is tradition to openly drink intoxicating 'Bhaang' (cannabis) drinks. (NOT BY ME MOM!)... (or John!) Like so many of the festivals I've experienced here, this Indian festival has a savage, ancient feel to it, but also makes you feel like a kid (even without the cannabis milkshake).

I still was curious about the colors... I wasn't buying the colors of spring story. Especially because there is no spring in India... India goes from nice warm weather (their 'winter'), directly to... "I think the soles of my shoes are melting into the ground" hot. So I did a little more research and found this story:
Holi is also associated with the evergreen love of Krishna and Radha. Krishna was jealous of Radha’s fair color and asked mother Yashoda for the reason for Radha’s fair color. Yashoda jokingly said if you are so jealous change her complexion by smearing color. Naughty young Krishna was waiting for an idea for a prank and did exactly as his mother suggested.

This sounds like a more beleivable reason for the colors... right?

Whatever the reason it was such a great time to blow off steam and smear stuff in the faces of your friends...
and neighbors...

and people you have just met.

Here is John and his best friend Arjun.

This would have been a good place for me to stop and go home... but no-oo... someone was having so much fun they just kept going and going.

Shah and Kaden came over to watch the people play

I call this picture, "We are not amused."

Here is a picture of Tonya and Shah... how did they stay so clean?

This is Sarah... don't let her sweet smile lure you into a false sense of security... I have it on good authority that she can be quite vicious.

And now I have proof.

Here is a picture of Sarah with her cousin/brother Brad. The funny thing about this holiday is you are sort of doing things to each other, that on any other day, would be considered mean. On this day you just let loose and go with it.

I still don't know proper protocol for when you are splashed, squirted, and powdered... maybe, "Thank you sir, may I have another?"

I call this picture, "Hello, How are you? Slap, Rub... How are the wife and kids? Squirt, Rub... It's been a while, oh here I have something for you! Really? A present... Whatever could it be?"

I call this one, "Oh, hi Mom! I would really appreciate you putting that camera down for just a few seconds..."

After our festival of colors we had a pot luck breakfast... casual wear was acceptable.

It was a little strange standing around talking to my neighbors and acting like everything was normal... "Hi Vimala! Why yes my head does look like a grape... you kind of look like a tie dyed human!"

I call this picture, "Please Scott let us into the house! I am much to civilized to be hosed down in the front yard!"

Hospital

Last night we were on our way to a friend’s house for a birthday celebration. On my way I started to get a tummy ache.

The pains in my abdomen became increasingly sharper until it was clear that we would not be going to the party.

I went home and lay in my bed only to find I couldn’t stretch out. The pain was horrible coupled with the fear of the many parasites and food issues here in India. I couldn’t think straight… Scott was worried and John was scared.

Scott called our maid Vijaya to come to our house to watch John (and the dog) while he took me to the hospital in a cab as our driver was out of town at a wedding.

Vijaya showed up and we continued to wait for the cab… and wait.

After a 40 minute wait, we called the cab company to see where our cab was and they said the cabbie was near our house but couldn’t find it.

Vijaya gave them instructions (after yelling at him for not calling us to ask for directions) and he was there in a few minutes.

We got into the smelly car with lots of signs instructing us to buckle up...but no seat belts, and asked the extremely smelly cab driver if he knew where we were going. Apollo Hospital? No answer… this meant that the extremely smelly driver was either deaf, rude or didn’t speak English.

Half way to the hospital we realized the cab driver was taking us to the airport. Airport/Apollo… I can see it. We told him that we were going to the hospital… hospital… Apollo Hospital. He said, “Oh, yes… Care Hospital”. Care/Apollo…I’m not buying it. We called Vijaya and asked her to tell the driver where we were going over the phone. (People sometimes wonder why we pay Vijaya so much.)

The driver finally took us to the hospital… slowly. We were actually passed by people on bicycles… this is not an exaggeration.

At the hospital there were bodies everywhere. I don’t think they were sick people they were just the many family members waiting for their loved ones in the emergency room.

The emergency room was a large open room. No curtains for privacy. I think there was a heart patient and a burn patient all displayed on beds for our viewing pleasure. I was directed by a man (who later turned out to be the doctor) in jeans and a plaid shirt and no I.D. to go into a room off to the side… I’m thinking because I am a woman I was given special treatment… and allowed a small amount of modesty.

Out in the main room an orderly knocked over one of those electric monitors that show you the pulse/heart beat and other statistics on who ever it’s hooked up to. He was promptly slapped by several nurses.

In the “private” room there was a bed with a pillow. The bed was covered with a cloth sheet and the pillow had a cloth pillow case. Both were stained and dirty.

I know I was in a lot of pain because in laid down on the gurney without a second thought about the oily head print on the pillow… until Scott told me that I would be exiled to the futon tonight if I didn’t shower before going to bed.

The doctor was nice and seemed knowledgeable… He poked my stomach and ruled out appendix, gal bladder, miscarriage… because I was not vomiting or didn’t have ‘loose movements’ he was out of guesses. He gave me a prescription for pain killers and an anti-spasmodic. We joked about the anti-spasmodic and how I would start to disappear if I took them as I am such a spaz.

(We also joked about the sign on the wall that said emergency plastic surgeon on call… “Doctor my wife needs D-cups stat!)… Thank you Scott for keeping my mind off the pain. Laughter is the best medicine after all.

The doctor told me to come back tomorrow for a scan (ultrasound), and sent Scott to get the prescriptions.

I realized where and what I was lying on and opted to move to a chair, while I waited for Scott’s return. While I sat there bent over looking at my toes… a mouse ran over my foot. No I wasn’t hallucinating.

Scott came back and I told him about the mouse… he told me he paid the hospital bill (300 rupees… about $6.12) and picked up the medicine at the pharmacy (another 54 rupees…$1.10). For the record this was not co-pay… this was the total bill. I think the postage would cost more to send the claim to our insurance company.

For how laughably unsanitary the hospital was… the medicine the doctor gave me helped and I’m feeling much better today.

My adventure has left me with a lot of unanswered questions:
1. What was wrong with me?
2. What happened to the orderly who dropped the expensive machine?
3. Where exactly are our healthcare funds going?

Hyderabad Hash House Harriers

On Sunday afternoons we like to go on the Hash House Harrier Runs (also known as H4). This is a group of people (mainly expats) that get together and run or walk a different pre-marked trail every week. There are Hash clubs all over the world, but each one is unique.

Each week a different person (or persons) marks the trail early Sunday morning...to be followed by the runners later that evening. These people are known as the Hash Hares.

This week was a special run marked by the Hyderabad Hash House Harrier Horrors (the kids).

The trail is marked with lyme...I think it's more like chalk. As they set the trail the kids throw the powder on the ground to show the runners which way they should go when they run the trail later that day. The powder lasts the whole day but washes away easily with water.

Some of the kids got a little creative with the powder...

And some of the kids just went a little overboard.

After they set the trail the Horrors hitched a ride with one of the parents back to the house we started at.

Later that evening the Hashers meet at the start of the run (a different place every week). We register and sometimes get free t-shirts. Here are Scott and I in our matching Kingfisher shirts.

This Sunday the kids got theses stylish yellow shirts with their hash names written on the back... I think I failed to mention the name... After you mark the trail for the first time or be the Hash Hare you are given a Hash name. My name is "Both Sides" (because I drive on both sides of the road)...(India and America), John is known as Dr. Bear Foot (because he refuses to wear shoes...only sandals for him), and Scott has not yet been a Hare so he doesn't have a Hash name.

When the kids marked the trail there are certain codes marked by the Hash Hares... when you come to a place where you can go more than one way you put a circle with a dot in it, this is called a check point... then you must go a little way down each path to see either an X telling the runner they are on the wrong path or a mark telling the runners they are on the correct path. The kids tried to trick the adults into exploring lots of different paths, but one of the bags of powder broke and gave up the secret to the correct path.

After the run we all met at Isabelle and Venkats house for a 'circle'. This is a fraternity like circle where certain silly songs are sung and silly rituals take place.

The kids, having run the Hash twice that day opted to go swimming...

Picnic

This years Valentines Day was spent attending a picnic at ICRISAT thrown by the expat association.The picnic had a variety of people...
Couples...Friends... Families...

People of all ages...

From many different countries.

There was a festive feeling in the air...As we played games...

Relaxed...

Got creative...

Ate yummy food...

And hung out...With good company.

Some of the highlights of the day included:
A 'treasure' dig in a big bucket of rice. (The kids all left with their pockets full of candy)

Our famous sari relay...

The men are wrapped in a sari and have to carry a bucket on their heads down the field and back without losing the sari.

Some of the men had their saris wrapped so tight they had to hop down the field like a mummy.
We had a refreshing ice cream bar with fruit, syrups and (of course) ice cream.

The ICRISAT campus is such a peaceful place. We really enjoyed listening to the birds and forgetting how hectic Hyderabad can get.

Here is Aiden asking when the food will be here?

Here are some of the kid playing tug of war.

Against some of the adults.

Here are some friends enjoying some good conversation...
While the kids had a water fight.

Here is a family enjoying the green grass, and the warm February weather.

The men were challenged to play a game we call, "The Coconut Bonk".

A coconut is tied to their waist and they are to swing it without using their hands... they are supposed to hit a loose coconut on the ground rolling it closer to a finish line. The first one with their coconut over the line wins.

The men wanting to share the humiliation decided it was only fair to have to women compete also.

I hope everyone had as much fun as I had.