Hey people. Well I promised myself I wouldn't post a blog until I was feeling relatively settled, so as not to bum out even Debbie Downer herself with some melancholy entries at the start. Most of you know me well enough to understand that transitions are tough, and that Suzie-less places can be pretty dark at first glance, but over a month into my time here in Nepal, I'm already starting to feel incredibly settled and relatively at home in my placement.
I also hesitated to begin because writing without a specific audience is difficult and I was unsure what to explain, having seen and done so many random things since I got here. And then it dawned on me... what better to write about than the universality of the water balloon. Let me back up for a minute. This past Saturday was the festival of "Holy," celebrated annually by Hindus in Nepal. It has evolved over the years into a day filled with throwing water balloons from rooftops at unsuspecting passersby and smearing Tika all over people's faces. (Tika is the red pujaa powder Nepalis wear on their foreheads for religious reasons). It started a little early this year, as I got drilled with a water balloon on Wednesday coming back from the grocery store. To tell you the truth, it has gotten a little dangerous and out of hand in recent years, and it's best to steer clear of Kathmandu if at all possible.
We woke up on Saturday, made a huge breakfast, and sat in the kitchen deciding if we felt like "celebrating" or not. While we all sat there, looking pensive, our 10 year old neighbor, Sambid, busted into our kitchen and smeared tika all over our faces before we had the chance to say "not on the hash browns!!!" And so, the decision was made for us, as we all got decked out and met on the roof for the execution of our battle plan, which involved filling about 200 water balloons and beseiging our downstairs neighbors from behind potted plants and water tanks. I'd have to say the real turning point was our decision to use our entire stock of baking flour from the kitchen to really bring it on home. (baking flour in place of tika... can you say 'foreigners'?). Needless to say, it was a fun afternoon, and the picture posted here captured us near the end, fading fast, as you can tell.
Strangely enough, celebrating this Hindu festival with the Nepali families living below us, it felt more like a weekend in Bloomington or home in Columbus than any other so far. And so I'll close with the notion that certain things really are universal: water balloons, good friends, good attack strategies, and the fact that flour, along with tika, shampoos right out. That's all for now... Thanks for reading. -- Sar.
