And a happy Holi to one and all!

It’s that time of year – the seasons are changing, heat is rising, and paint is flying. Sunday was Holi here in India and the streets were filled with children and teens flinging color on each other and darting all over the place. Holi is the festival of color and, as Rajan told me, celebrates the end of the harvest season and beginning of summer…even though technically the heat started hitting the red zone a few weeks ago. I happily drove by all the merriment taking pictures of the colorful celebrators on the side of the road.

It’s a car…it’s a roadblock…it’s a cow!

On the way to the gym today we got stuck behind 3 cows ambling up the road. Nowhere to go, we just had to coast as they teetered up the street. What could we do? We couldn’t exactly tell them to “mooooooove!”

OK, even though my cultural experiences are increasing, the quality of my jokes is decreasing. What to do what to do… The human factor is what really educates Today at lunch I ran out to buy some shawls…more shawls. Salim took me to a shop that just relocated here from Kashmir and I was like a kid in a candy shop. After showing me every color and every pattern, the shopkeep looked up and said, “country? What country??” I replied USA and his eyes widened. I wasn’t sure if this was a qualifying question to the negotiation that later ensued, or just a nicety. Three more shawl displays and I found out.

“Madam, can you please tell your President to please help?” He said as his eyes filled with tears. “Did you know there are all these promises…and the US is the only country that’s going to save us? Please help.” Tilting my head (just once - inquiring in the US, if I had ‘tilted’ multiple times it would have represented listening/understanding here) he continued. “You see, madam, my family is there. Half is on the Pakistan side, half on the India side. I love my family. I want to be together again.” My eyes started filling up quickly matching his. “You go tell Him to help. OK? Or maybe, just write a letter.” Shaken and not really knowing what to say I just stood, listening.

After a sorrow filled staring contest, the shopkeep broke the silence. “So, how many are you going to take?”