Holi

Sunday 28 Feb was the biggest day of celebrating the holiday Holi in the Kathmandu Valley. Even though the story of Holi is pretty disturbing, it seems to be a holiday about fun and color and impish mischief. The story of Holi is this: One king of demons, Hiranyakashipu, tried to kill his son Prahlada, but he could not be killed because of his intense devotion to Vishnu. Hiranyakashipu’s daughter Holika had a special shawl that kept her safe from fire; Hiranyakashipu thought that if he wrapped Holika in the shawl, put Prahlada on Holika’s lap and put both children on a pyre, Prahlada would die and Holika would live. Actually, Prahlada’s devotion to Vishnu caused the shawl to fly from Holika to him, and ultimately Holika died and Prahlada lived. Later Vishnu came and killed Hiranayakashipu. (For this information, thank you to the guy on the Pharping bus and Wikipedia.) Maybe the link between Holika dying and women getting water thrown at them is because Holika's faith in Vishnu wasn't strong enough to keep her protected from the fire, and Vishnu is associated with water, or maybe it's because water extinguishes fire. I am not sure. In any case, people of many religions celebrate Holi. This article from the Himalayan Times tells about members of Nepal's Constituent Assembly celebrating Holi.

The whole valley, from Bouddha to my village of Pharping, was full of people throwing water at each other for the past three days. Groups of kids stood around and waited for passersby they could attack with lolas, or water ammo, like balloons and squirt guns or just buckets of water. Some of the water is very dirty or colored with powder or dyes. The colors are actually quite toxic, yet all around town people were covered with powder residue and painted their faces with toxic metallic paints to celebrate. On Friday ago I rode 20km to KTM on a motorbike with my co-worker Phurba and we were pelted with three water balloons. Then Sunday morning in Bouddha, I had litres and litres of water dumped on me, many water balloons thrown, lots of water squirted at me from makeshift plastic water bottle guns, and was freezing and miserable on the 90-minute ride back to Pharping. It was like I had taken a shower. I had wet hair, was soaked through to the skin, wet underneath long underwear and my chuba and my sweater.

I guess Holi is fun--I'd feel like a spoilsport saying it wasn't fun--but actually I was uncomfortable and dirty and then anxious and irritated. Plus, mainly girls are targeted with lolas. In Holi-focused newspaper interviews, people said extreme things, like The government should regulate the selling of water guns or Boys throwing lolas should go to jail. But this type of communal neighborhood raucous activity is endemic to Nepal, and I can't imagine it will change any time soon.

Some Thoughts on Moving, and Madison

Moving sucks. I hate moving. Shit! Right now I am moving from Madison to Nepal (via New York) and my mom is moving from New York to LA. What this means is a hassle. Like, Where will I put the stuff I don't need in Nepal but I want to keep? And, What about if I'm coming back to Madison--should I keep some things here? Like, my speakers or my bike? Also, moving makes you reprioritize and get frustrated and so my Sensibility Meter is all out of whack.

My small room is full of stuff I can't keep. These fall into the following categories: things I brought with me from New York and didn't use (after not having used them in New York), like a harmonica and three pairs of flats; things I accumulated in Madison and didn't use, like a purple lurex top and some nice tins for holding tea; things I had in New York and Madison

and seem too useful to get rid of, like a harmonica & flats & India ink & a humidifier & an old dish shift sign-up sheet & a biography of Grace Paley & two corkboards & several short coats. One solution is to sell things to local people. I sold the iPod Touch I got by rebate with my new computer to Syrym (room 27), who took it to Kazakhstan today and will bring me $$$ after he sells it there. I sold my speakers to Jacquie and my bike to Kate (room 5). I gave a photo of Obama to Katie (room 32) and shells to Julia T (room 2). I gave coop-related drawings and emotional ephemera to Elise (room 28).

Moving also fucking sucks because it means you have to say goodbye to people. In this case, I also have to say goodbye to a community that I've helped build and maintain. I'm frequently involved with some contained community that has clearly articulated roles and responsibilities--probably less clearly defined boundaries--so I have a lot of experience with being part of something and having to leave it. Each time it's heartbreaking. In response to saying goodbye to each other, people have different reactions. Some get mushy, some get angry, some get distant, some put it all behind us, some bring it to the fore. Some plan to stay in touch and some say they will but don't mean it. The easiest goodbyes are when you know the relationship is mostly done but still remember each other fondly. Relationships that allow this kind of warm but easy separation are few for me, because I am needy. So right now I'm dealing with being realistic: the current incarnation of my most meaningful relationships is about to be over, but this doesn't mean something different and equally sustaining can't emerge. That Sensibility Meter has been telling me to pull away for the past two weeks, but house meetings and writing policy and making video tours and doing dishes and loving this place are unavoidable. Leaving this place is unavoidable. I am a part of this. I am apart of this.

Trivia at Maggie Brown

Maggie Brown is a cute restaurant/bar right near my apartment, with pretty good comfort food, and great velvet flocked wallpaper. I've eaten dinner there a few times, and while it's not my favorite restaurant in Clinton Hill, it's good for a change of pace, and a lot of people I know just adore it.

Last night, Leah, our friends Wendy and Megan, and I went to Quiz Night there. If you haven't played trivia at a bar before, you should, and you could definitely get your start (as I did), at Maggie Brown. There's a game on the first Tuesday of every month, and while they say it starts at 7ish, it really starts around 7:45.

The basic premise is that you and your team (we were the Red Wrigglers) write down the answers to a series of questions over the course of a few rounds. Whoever wins gets a prize. Some of the questions were easy (What is April's birthstone? Diamond) and others were hard (How many tax forms are there in the United States? 480), but most were interesting, and we had a fun time trying to figure them out, so we're definitely planning on going back again, although maybe next time with the goal of meeting people and not coming in last place again.

I'd be really interested to know, also, if anyone has any suggestions for any other Quiz Nights in Brooklyn, Queens or Manhattan, especially ones that take place at really good English-style pubs.