Navratri

Here's what struck me about the Navratri Hindu Festival:

1. The COLOR

It was everywhere! I had been forewarned that people were “ dressing up” for the event but nothing could have prepared me for the utter force of the bright saris that floated across the field in front of the tower. You know those digitally altered pictures of flowers, where you know there is no possible way that the actual colors could be that bright? That's what the Navratri scene reminded me of. It was so ridiculously beautiful I didn't even know what to do. For awhile I just stood there in awe. I mean, it was basically nighttime. The lights were low and it should have been sort of gloomy, considering that half of UT was out partying it up at ACL and that the sky had been threatening to unleash a showers of wrathful rain all day long.

But the gloom was stillborn. The Navratri festival was like the tropical rainforest come to life.

The sari's bright colors made the evening unforgettable!

http://img1.eyefetch.com/Portfolio%5Czaanat%5C117687.jpg

2. The NOISE

Was there music? YES. Was there dancing? YES. Did I participate?

A little :)

I could actually hear the music way back by the PCL when I was walking over. It was dance music, no doubt, with a fast, strong beat that gave me a rush of adrenaline as the sound slowly leaked through my ears into my bloodstream. The funny thing is that once I arrived at the field, what I heard was more than the music. It was even more than the laughter and cheerful conversations (of all different languages, mind you) of the festival attendants. I could actually HEAR the dancing. The saris swish swish swished as the circle of dancers glided past me. Their jewelry cling clang clacked with every step they took, adding to the rhythm of the already beat-heavy music. Everything sort of combined into... I don't know. The SOUND of Navratri.

I didn't join in while people were dancing Garba. My brain was working too hard to integrate all of the beautiful things I was seeing. I think if I'd tried to dance I would have either knocked everyone in the circle down with my exuberant movements or cause a massive traffic jam as my mind tried (and failed) to comprehend the steps. (Both would have resulted in everyone falling and my being expelled from the circle for my atrocious dancing attempt). By the time my brain had finished its' sluggish processing of the scene laid out before me a new dance had begun, involving sticks, called Dandiya. At first I thought that trying to do this was an even worse idea for someone as clumsy as me than Garba. I mean, people were holding long, weapon-like sticks (however beautifully they were painted) and trying to hit them with another person's sticks while also moving to the beat. Occasionally they would SPIN while also hitting the other person's stick. Eventually though, Sharad and Thuyen convinced my to try. For those of you who are not aware, let tell you: Sharad is a brave soul. Teaching me the steps to that dance was life-threatening, whether he knew so or not. He lived though, and actually managed to (sort of) teach me the dance!

The sticks are beautiful but deadly!

http://www.tribuneindia.com/2004/20041017/spectrum/dance2.jpg

3. The SMELL

Oh, my goodness. It smelled like deliciousness on that field. I held off for awhile, soaking in the rest of the festival, but after awhile I just HAD to know what was driving my nose so pleasantly crazy. A short line and $5 later I was happily engaged in a meal on the grass. I honestly have not idea what was in it (which is probably bad considering I have a mild food allergy to nuts) but it tasted like sunshine and rainbows and fireworks. It's scent had not lied: eating it was truly a delectable experience. I love dosa!

YUMMY!

http://static.ifood.tv/files/Dosa.jpg

I know that the festival is a commemoration to the contribution of women to society, and now that I reflect on the festival, I can see how this theme played out. It took both women and men to put on this festival, but once the dancing began, it was the women I noticed, graceful in their long colorful saris and cheerful with their clinking bracelets, and long gold earrings. The way the festival was set up made them the stars, which is as great a commemoration as any.

It's funny, because I see a lot of similarities between this festival and the parties my grandparents and cousins are always throwing in Puerto Rico. EVERYONE dances, from the newborns to the wheelchair toting grandmas. The music is overwhelming and loud and everyone talks with varying degrees of exuberance. The women in PR LOVE to dress up, so any party is a good excuse to do so. But probably the most striking similarity I saw was the friendliness and the acceptance that exhumes from the people who attend these events.

It's funny how culture DOESN'T clash, isn't it?