Yesterday was Deepavali, or Divali for short. This is the festival of lights, the day when Rama eliminated evil from this world. I would compare it to Christmas in the States in that although people don't buy tons of gifts for each other and wrap them up, people goes out and gets a new outfit and jewelry to match just for this festival. Becca bought a sari and I finally got my two tailored, and my host mom bought both of us kurtas to wear too. Also, people decorate their houses and put little diyas, or lamps, all around to ward off evil. And, we got henna done on our hands, which is still kind of weirding me out, only because I also eat with my hands here and its a little strange seeing your hand all henna-ed up when your reaching in into your mouth. But that's beside the point, I currently have henna on both my hands, both sides of my hands.
So it's 5 am and we're all up. We're all cramed into the pooja room, my dad's mom (grandma, but important distinction), my dad, mom, Sawmya, Bharat (came back from Delhi for this), Rohit, Becca and me. The ceremony began with Paati (dad's mom/grandma) putting a little bit of oil on the crown of each person's head, which was very simple yet carried the most importance in the whole thing, although I still don't know what it symbolized. After that, all the clothes that had been bought for the festivities were passed to Paati and she distributed them accordingly. Lastly, my dad and mom got on their knees and touched Paati's feet, then Sawmya and Bharat did so for Paati and their mom and dad, Rohit followed, and as Becca and I were preparing to they said no no no, you don't have to do that and it was all done. It probably would have done me good to partake in that last bit just because I found myself feeling so ashamed to even think about doing it. It's because in America we pride ourselves so heavily on equality that nobody would ever think to humble themself in such a way for their family. I mean really, has anyone in America ever bowed to someone else? Absolutely not, that's unheard of, yet obviously the point of this was to humble yourself while at the same time giving respect to your elders. It's brilliant, really. For real though, right now, pause and actually consider what it would be like to get down on your hands and knees and bow in front of your parents and grandparents and in the presence of others. Doesn't get more humbling than that, eh?
After the pooja we all passed out again until about 8-9 am. The last part of the pooja was that everyone was supposed to bathe and come back wearing their new clothes given to them, so everybody came down dressed up (Becca and I went the kurta route for the day, the saris come in later). Nothing's really done in the daytime to celebrate, it's after sundown that it all happens, so we ventured out to get some last minute supplies. While we were out, I saw a few really interesting things. The first was actually the saddest thing I think I've seen in India yet, and I'm not sure why I feel that way. I saw a 6 or 7 year old girl holding her mom's hand who was in turn holding the little girl's dad's hand, with the little girl leading the way. Both her parents were blind, and had to depend on their child to get them places safely. Obviously, they were of a very low caste and couldn't afford any kind of help, they didn't even have proper walking sticks, they just literally had sticks. I don't know, it was just a really hopeless situation. The second thing was I witnessed a motorcycle hit another motorcycle. I didn't use the word crash for a reason, the one guy was stopped and the other one bumped into him hard enough for them both to fall, but still hard enough for it to be a dangerous situation, especially considering neither had helmets. For those of you who have read Shantaram, you know the deal. However, this was a very minor accident, so it wasn't like a huge crowd gathered. But, the guy who got hit basically started beating the shit out of the other one, and nobody did anything to stop him. We kept driving. The last thing I saw pales in comparison to those first two, but it was a momentous moment for Becca and me. We saw a rickshaw get pulled over for having too many people in it! What nonsense, it wasn't by any means the most packed I'd seen one of them, I think it only had 5 + driver. But I guess the cops pull over people a lot more on festivals because they need more money then, so you can be sure he got an extra couple hundred rupees to deter the costs for his family.
Bear with me, we're only at like 3 o'clock right now. It was a long day I'll tell you. We took the afternoon to rest up, relax, read, etc. At about 5 we started getting ready, prettying up, and getting tied into our saris. I swear tying a sari is one of the most complicated things ever. It baffles me that married women not only wear them every day but tie them themselves. We made it downstairs by 6:45 to give you an idea. Boy were we in for a surprise when we came down, too. My host dad had invited all of his literature students to come celebrate Diwali at our house. There were about 60 college Indian students staring at the two white girls in saris when we came down, and I can only imagine what shade of red my face was. But life goes on and the attention eventually dispersed and some of the students took turns singing songs for the whole group until about 7:30. Then the masses moved outside. It was fireworks time. Seeing as I was in a sari with silk draped all around me and I was still getting used to it, I opted to watch from the balcony instead of actually lighting the crackers myself. People were lighting them off two, three, four at a time and we were outside for about an hour we had so many crackers. Please be aware that India has no regulations on fireworks nor legal limits nor anything of that nature. There were several duds or crackers that just blew up or did something unexpected. One guy lit a windmill thing and it spun on him and windmilled lit embers all over him, but he managed to escape unscathed. There were air fireworks, ground fireworks, literally firecrackers, sparklers, everything. And it wasn't just our house, everyone everywhere were lighting off all their fireworks too. It was really fun. We all herded back inside when they were all finished for dinner. Tamarin rice, curd rice, hot chips, sweets. Yummmmm. All homemade by the Durgas (except the hot chips).
As things settled down, a few of us left and went out to a club. The rest of the night played out like any other night. Needless to say, it was a crazy day.
Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=165570&id=642705832&l=f554178f81
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