The Stomach Saga

About two and a half weeks I wrote the following, hoping to publish a new post within the week.

"Thursday night I devoured globs of veg jaipuria and matter paneer and kashmiri naan at an expensive Indian restaurant in Mcleod. I didn't leave the guesthouse -or sickhouse, in my case- till that Sunday. Instead of parading around with elephants in Jaipur, I spent four long days within ten metres of the guesthouse bathroom.

Anna, the friend who was crazy enough to sign up for Holi in Rajasthan with me, also stayed behind when I became too sick to sit through a twelve hour bus ride. We had white suits made in anticipation of Holi, the Hindu festival of colors marking the beginning of spring. The festival is celebrated by throwing paint in powdered or liquid form onto others. When holi escalates, paint can turn into cow dung, and the throwing of paint can turn into unpleasant groping, but nonetheless, it remains one of India's most beautiful festivals.

Anna and I were scheduled to arrive in Jaipur at 2:00pm on March 19, the first day of Holi. Our selves and all our belongings would have been fair game, which is why I admire her for being crazy enough to brave that with me. When we stayed behind, Anna singlehandedly took it upon herself to make sure we still enjoyed a decent Holi. Not only did she prep buckets of water and paint to ambush the rest of the group if they showed up at the library, she forced me out of bed and into white clothes that quickly became splashed with red and blue that I duly reciprocated.

We then stumbled onto the family gathering the Nepalese owners of our guesthouse were hosting in celebration of Holi. Together with our program director we sat in on traditional Nepali dancing, had our first taste of Nepali food, and had our faces painted by the different members of the family. I will include a clip of Nepali grandparents dancing in the future so you can see for yourself the sweetness of what we were lucky enough to observe.

All in all, as glad as I am to be out of the guesthouse, I'm more grateful to Anna, who not only stayed behind and held no grudge towards me for ruining Holi, but also made Holi happen."

It's been a while since I wrote this. I'm no longer living with my host family (we're on spring break) and I'm in Rajasthan as I write this preparing to leave for Varanasi. In an effort to update everyone on what's been going on, I've decided to start with what happened longest ago and move from there. Coming soon: getting duped in the Delhi train station.