Saturday, March 30, 2013

What Do You Mean It Is A Fuse

 

A light flickers then they all go out. Then they come back on, then they all go out again. And you wonder why? Now I know.


No worries about electricity in most houses - this is all you
have to cook with

 I was walking through the electrical parts section of the city and this is what I saw. Is it any wonder Chandigarh, and India in general has problems with electrical currents?

I won't miss cooking on an old hot plate with an old pot without a handle. I am looking forward to getting back to a decent kitchen again.

I've long gone through all the freeze-dried food and protein bars. Now we are down to a last pack or two of jelly beans and chewing gum.

Our latest visitor- a highly poisonous snake according to the nearby caretaker. Quite frankly, I don't want to know how toxic this snake is.








A small box on a tile wall for puga, or worshipping an idol with flowers, lit candles
and small sacrifices of food. 
Life Goes Back to Normal 
No trip is complete with out at least one plumbers butt!

The local baker was not exempt from Holi. He stands in front of sweets made just for the holiday that are
shaped like some of our Sephardic foods but taste like Greek baklava.

I don't think there is an open container law in India. This guy tried to sell it to me literally from his motorcycle. No thanks,
I don't like to drink and auto rickshaw.




Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Color Whore at the HOLI Color War

Caught this man as he was exhaling a cigarette- 
Ask anyone who knows my art, and they should know how much I love bright, pure, saturated hues. Generally, sophisticated artists consider it a juvenile palette as an artist, and I know it, but I can't help it. Bright, jewel tones and rich reds and violets just get me all excited inside and inspire me to make art.

I have learned to tone down my personal wardrobe and to buy fancy clothes in sophisticated earth tones, too, but at heart, I am still a kid and love rich color. 

If I were my own analyst, I would immediately deduce that is why I love folk art and outsider art as I do...it plays right into my belief that art is a primitive drive and the less trained it is, the more one can trust it is an authentic snapshot of the soul. And that is one reason I love to return to India time and time again....its colors.


Don't know what she was trying to say, but I got hit
about a second later with two water balloons dropped from the balcony above!
So give me a national holiday that celebrates color, and it is like having a life-time supply of your favorite chocolate.  I just went bananas today during the second biggest holiday in India, HOLI. 




























All I did was drive around for the past two days and get squirted with assault-rifles, water guns and balloons filled with color, and then get it smeared on my face, arms and shirt by squealing and laughing children and adults. 

As a white foreigner, traveling alone I might add, I was a perfect target for the street kids.....it was ok, though, cause I knew it was coming! 

What a rush the few days before HOLI. Every retailer sells little packets of color for the equivalent of .40 to.50 a packet, and some want only the natural powders, since some of the metallic colors have mica or toxic chemicals in them.

Some powders are for mixing with water and some are for throwing dry!


So you must get a water gun, preferably an assault rifle if you are a boy, 14 or under. They have at least two spouts and mind you, the streams can reach right into the open rickshaw or auto rickshaw and totally soak an unsuspecting passenger, at which times the boys have disappeared into the doorway or up the stairs, knowing the quick getaway routes.


The next way you know HOLI is coming is that you see folks buying  fire wood and logs in the markets and then you see these cone shaped bonfires-to-be right in the middle of the road all wrapped in tinsel and some powdered with color.

They light these fires - some last night, some tonight, to drive the spirit Holika away. She was the evil sister of an evil demon named Hiranyakashipu - I just call him Hiranny. The rite is called the Burning of Holika and by the looks of it, the local fire department calls is Hell Night, cause those bonfires are awfully close to dry wooden structures and there were some pretty tight clearances.



The rule of thumb is that HOLI runs until about 4pm, when the majority of conservative, experienced adults need to get out of the house finally after a day of staying inside. In three trips to India, I have never seen an Indian street so deserted of cars and honking. I actually could ride around without fearing for my life.

 
The rule I assume is that if you don't want to play HOLI, don't come outside, and they do call it "playing HOLI."

Even the local snake charmer plays HOLI with his snake!

HOLI is for everyone, rich or poor, light or dark, driver or driven. It is the official end of winter and tells of the coming of summer. In a land of harsh contrasts, it is the one day everyone is free to be with family and to enjoy merriment and celebration with one another as brother and sister.

Holy Sikh Warrior on the streets taking his chances.








So today, there was a color whore at the HOLI color war, with water pistol in hand ready to play HOLI, and it was a fabulous day to be alive!!