Holi Shit

It’s been a while since I updated this blog of mine.
Reason?
Too busy seeing other parts of this Incredible India.

The last 2 weeks of my amazing stay I realized one of my more recent dreams; travelling through India with nothing more than a backpack full of clothes, some rupees in my pocket, my precious camera around my neck and the travel Bible in my hand.

I am back home now. Not Chandigarh-home but ‘really’ home in good old Gemert, where the cows are locked in, the sun is hiding, the food is spice-less and let’s face it.. everything is still the same.
Time to take a trip down memory lane with the help of my notebook. I see that the first words I wrote are: Why not? Famous words in Chandigarh among the interns. There, it has a deeper meaning, something you will only understand after living in India for a while.
According to my notebook, it’s Sunday evening (March 20), and I’m on a rooftop restaurant having some chai and looking at the Taj Mahal for the first time of my life. Although it is only lighted by the full moon (which seems to be full here every day) it is still an impressive sight, mostly caused by the thought of visiting it tomorrow in daylight. I am all alone now because I said goodbye to my 13 colourful friends earlier this day. They joined me for one of the most extreme religious festivals in the world:

- Holi -

Wikipedia says: Holi is a spring religious festival celebrated by Hindus. The most celebrated Holi is that of the Braj region, in locations connected to the Lord Krishna: Mathura, Vrindavan, Nandagaon and Barsana. The main day, also known as Dhuli Vandana in Sanskrit is celebrated by people throwing coloured powder and coloured water at each other.

I say: Holi is an extremely colourful religious festival celebrated by Hindus. The most crazy and chaotic Holi is that of the Braj region, in locations connected to the Lord Krishna: Mathura, Vrindavan, Nandagaon and Barsana. The main day, also known as Dhuli Vandana in Sanskrit is celebrated by people attacking and blinding innocent foreigners in small crowded streets, collectively, from rickshaws, shops, roof tops and up close without giving them a chance to recover from their purple, green, yellow and pink injuries, by using coloured powder/paint and organized blockades.

Yes, we ‘celebrated’ Holi in Vrindavan.

Unforgettable!

One thing keeps coming to mind; walking together through the small streets of Vrindavan, trying to protect each other from the never-ending numerous paint and powder attacks, shielding my face by looking down at the wet, pink-coloured tiles and feeling happy, excited and a bit angry and scared at the same time.

I realize now this represents very well how I see India:

- too many people

- colourful

- being a target as a foreigner

- crazy, mostly in a good way

Monday morning; I wake up at 5 AM so that I’m sure not to miss the Taj Mahal in all its glory at sunrise. First I take a shower, already the third one after the Holi spectactle, trying to get rid of my pink nails, back and neck. Still no success! Once on the streets I happily notice I’m not the only one with Holi-tattoos.
I arrive at one of the many roof top restaurants at around 6 and although the sun is not visible yet I finally see the white marbled wonder in clear daylight. Some monkeys join me for the view while the sun is finally showing its face and gives the Taj Mahal a beautiful soft glow. After taking too many pictures and some breakfast I decide it’s time to walk back to the hotel and discover that one of the monkeys has stolen my camera cover. You know what, I don’t even care! I’m backpacking through India, I feel good, I feel independent, I feel strong, I feel alive! Nothing and no one can stop me.   

Later in the afternoon I walk through the South Gate and staring at one of the most famous buildings in the world. The feeling is indescribable. Not just because of its beauty, but more what it represents to me and that I’m able to be here on the other side of the world. I am ‘able’, meaning that I have the guts to leave my safe and secure surroundings in my own country, to discover other cultures and other people. And discover more of myself. It makes me very proud that I changed a few years ago in someone more adventurous.
Well, so apparently the feeling is not indescribable because this is exactly how I felt walking through the gate.

Ok , so I am proud. But am I also winning? Let’s take a look at the score shall we?

-Marchl 17^th:  Being really sick for the second time in such a short time, just before I’m supposed to go on my dream trip. I’m taking an (expensive) blood test to rule out some things. I’m panicking, am I able to travel like this?    India: 3 points

- March 19^th: After our bus to Fatehpur Sikri breaks down, we jump on some sort of pickup truck with other Indian people. We adjust very well to the Indian ways of transportation.    Dennis: 1 point

- March 19^th: Getting pretty aggressive as the touts around Fatehpur Sikri are really getting on my nerves. A policy of ignoring doesn’t help and it’s really too much for me.    India: 1 point

- March 20^th: Sharing an auto rickshaw with 14 people, twice. We adjust very well to the Indian ways of transportation.    Dennis: 1 point

- March 20^th: Sitting on the roof of the taxi because our clothes are too dirty after the Holi war. We adjust very well to the Indians way of transportation.    Dennis: 1 point

- March 20^th: Creepy Indian guys harassing our girls throughout the day. I cannot believe how disgusting these people are!    India: 1 point

- March 20^th: Surviving the Holi Vrindivan War.    Dennis: 2 points. (At least!)

- March 21th: Monkey steeling my camera cover.    India: 1 point

- Decision not to rebook my flight back home but go on the journey after all despite feeling like dying.    Dennis: 3 points

Looks like it's going to be a tight match until the last minute.
Next stop: Varanasi, another unforgettable part of my trip… but more of that in the next story. I’m going to ride my bicycle now.


"I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world" - Mary Anne Radmacher Hershey