About two weeks ago, there was a festival around the United Nations for an Indian holiday called Holi. I didn't know so much about this festival, only that people threw handfuls of colored powder at each other.
I met two friends there, and as I walked from the station, I began to see splotches of color along the side walk--first a splatter of bright green, then a streak of purple. Then I saw people who were presumably leaving the festival, covered in different colored paint. It looked a bit like a colorful zombie apocalypse--many people wore old clothes, and their faces were smeared with colors, some red, and their hair was messy. The festival was quite full, and when I arrived I saw that they had run out of paint. Dismayed, I thought that perhaps I would end up leaving the festival with no color. I went to go get Indian food, which was very good, and waited for my friends.
After they arrived, we proceeded to make our way to the stage. On the way, random people began throwing paint at us. "You look too clean," one said, and took a handful of green paint and smeared it on my face.
One of my friends is Indian, and told us two versions of the story behind Holi.
Story one: I don't remember this one, because it was pretty dark, and about evil demi-gods trying to kill each other, and I think there was a volcano involved.
Story two: I guess as an optimist, I like happy stories, so I remember this well. The God Krishna, who has blue skin, went to school as a child and fell in love with a girl in his class. He was really self conscious that he looked so different, because his skin is blue, so he worried she wouldn't like him. Instead, she decided to paint her skin some color too. As a result, people cover each other with pain for Holi.
We left the festival looking like tie dyed people, and I pretty much have to throw my shirt away, but it was a lot of fun.
