Holi

Yesterday was the festival of Holi.  I had never heard of this before and as of this writing I have only vague clues as to its meaning.  All that I know is that on Holi, in Pokhara, every man, woman and child, whether tourist or local, carries a couple of packets of colored powder when they go out into the street.  Some of them carry a bottle or bucket of water into which they pour the powder.   When we meet a friend or stranger on the street we call out “Happy Holi!!!” and proceed to splash or smear the powder or water onto their faces, hair or clothes.  I spent the bulk of the morning hours dodging teenagers carrying buckets of colored water or paint, then sitting with friends on a step outside a popular bar while drinking warm beer and whiskey, our faces covered in bright blues and pinks and muddy browns.    Children and young men approached us periodically and spread a new color onto our cheeks, keeping our appearances in a constant state of flux.  Everyone was laughing constantly and looking around for anyone who was "too clean".  You could hardly tell tourists from locals after a few splashes of color.  I love this festival.