Friday, March 23, 2012

Real Tug of War and Real War to Get Home

Priscilla never misses the opportunity for some good old competition.  At the Elephant Festival, it is foreigners vs. Indians and I am ready to compete.  We have a huge crowd of people surrounding us taking photos/videos, the energy is incredible, the whistle blows and I am in the near front ready to pull my heart out.  We are all pulling hard and another girl alternate shouting out, “1,2,3 pull” We are putting up a good fight, but we end up not making it as the Indian team has ALL boys!
Being competitive, I am not accepting this loss. Everyone is laughing at my comical comments and requesting a second Round.  We got another chance to redeem ourselves, Round 2! 

Round 2 we had less people in the front- the right side front was lacking people and I knew it would be a struggle.  We all pulled hard with all our strength, but this round was shorter.  I ended up not letting go of the rope and was pulled to the other side and fell to the ground dramatically shouting, “No.” Cameras and videos all standing around me and everyone laughing.  I walk around saying, “Just two more men and we would have this.”  

After this event comes spectacular moments, the live performances of colors, holi on the elephants, the elephant ceremony announcing the top three winners, the fireworks, the explosions of blue, pink, and green color, the fire and elephant display, the kids playing instruments and color fights, absolutely amazing-an event of a lifetime and proven that Holi is the most amazing holiday of India.
We all leave the Indians and the Russians heading down the street.  I run into the band members and I walk down the street holding the brass instrument attempting to play.  We part ways and all ten of us CSers cram on the bus.  Our  feet barely making it onto the ledge-craziness.  We walk down the streets and I say, “Happy, Happy Holi to all” waiving like a princess ha!

We go to eat in McDonalds and I am more content than a ten year old because I need to eat bland food because my stomach is still upset.  We all sit all colored up eating our Mc Donalds.  Among the streets, Raju and I lose the Russians and I lose Raju so I decide to hitch a ride back to the house.
This young kid from Kashmere rides me home, but little did I know it was like a display for his friends and the whole town.  We are riding his motor bike with his friends on two bikes-one on each side of us.  They are just non-chilantly having conversations on the phone.  Yes, on the phone with each other when the bike was right next to each other.  They are not paying attention to traffic and I begin to question my decision. 
His bike breaks down and I end up hitching another ride from an older Indian man.  After I get on the bike, I realize he is drunk and I decide that I need to get off, but he insists on driving me.  He ends up taking a detour to the top of the hill so I can see the lights, mountain, and lake view.  It is beautiful outside and I do not mind this view.  I enjoy the night ride around and understand that this man is celebrating like everyone else.  But what comes next is not good, he stops the bike and tells me, “Please one kiss.” I tell him “No” and he asks again and again until I decide to make a move off the bike.  There are no riksha’s around so I have to hitch ANOTHER ride with a nice couple thankfully.   I make it home in one piece and ready for nice sleep. 

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