I promise I am not using this title in response to the massive amount of brown people I hung out with this weekend. =) But I am very thankful for what a good and wonderful weekend I had. I have to admit that I am beyond exhausted. My eyes are droopy and my body is slowly shutting down from sheer exhaustion. Why? Because this past week has felt non-stop. And I am finally feeling it all.
As I get older I forget how easy it is to get into a routine and sit comfortably there. For a few weeks my schedule has felt all sorts of jacked up. I have seen less and less of my friends because of renewed work and new work obligations. I have been going a million miles an hour and before I look up the week has come and gone.
But this weekend, even though I didn't get the opportunity to spend it with dear friends as I would have liked (some I did), I was introduced into a whole new world. It isn't often I am reminded of how "white I am." Yes, I am an American, yes I was born in Arizona, yes my parents are uber white, yes most of my friends are of the same color. So when I found myself the minority in a crowd of hundreds of Indains (the dot kind) I felt in awe.
Most everyone knows I have been completely enthralled with the entire Indian culture for a long time. I adore the colours, the rituals, the language, the food, and the people in general. This weekend I got a front row seat into the lives of these amazingly vibrant people. As I walked, hand in hand, to the Guthrie Green with Zain, I felt like I was a lone white girl (even though I wasn't the only one) who was being allowed a secret entrance into their lives.
Is this true? Hardly...this weekend was the Garba on the Green, a small festival of sorts that celebrated Hindu dancing and culture. It was beautiful...and had I had a little bit more persuasion, I might have danced. Next time perhaps.
Moving on...the reason for this post, was the time I got to spend with Zain and his friends after the festival. I have never found it difficult to enter into a group of people. I have the ability my mother has: that of adapting to any crowd. So, when we all set out for the night, I fell right into step. But the most incredible part was the acceptance of me...the lonely white girl.
I am wondering if this is even something worth writing about. Well it is. If only for the fact that I got to listen to them speak in Hindi and be involved in what I have always wanted...a brown clan. I have a feeling that people think I am getting more and more racist as this post continues. However, that couldn't be farther from the truth. Should I even be grateful that they accepted me? Probably not. For they are not unlike any other decent human beings accepting another human being into their group for the night.
But I felt accepted...especially when Anky (awesome nickname) vocally accepted me into the group. I felt honored. I realized that I am not too old to make new friends and be able to create new relationships with people. I always thought it was exhausting to maintain and grow new relationships. But I realized that they are only exhausting when they feel obligatory or burdensome. These people are just downright hilariously fun.
I do really hope that this post does these people justice, and even more so that it makes sense. My brain is fried...prolly should get to bed earlier than 530am, but every moment was worth it. Even if I was a complete jack ass to a certain someone who knows and hopefully has forgiven me. There I go being cryptic again ;-)
As I get older I forget how easy it is to get into a routine and sit comfortably there. For a few weeks my schedule has felt all sorts of jacked up. I have seen less and less of my friends because of renewed work and new work obligations. I have been going a million miles an hour and before I look up the week has come and gone.
But this weekend, even though I didn't get the opportunity to spend it with dear friends as I would have liked (some I did), I was introduced into a whole new world. It isn't often I am reminded of how "white I am." Yes, I am an American, yes I was born in Arizona, yes my parents are uber white, yes most of my friends are of the same color. So when I found myself the minority in a crowd of hundreds of Indains (the dot kind) I felt in awe.
Most everyone knows I have been completely enthralled with the entire Indian culture for a long time. I adore the colours, the rituals, the language, the food, and the people in general. This weekend I got a front row seat into the lives of these amazingly vibrant people. As I walked, hand in hand, to the Guthrie Green with Zain, I felt like I was a lone white girl (even though I wasn't the only one) who was being allowed a secret entrance into their lives.
Is this true? Hardly...this weekend was the Garba on the Green, a small festival of sorts that celebrated Hindu dancing and culture. It was beautiful...and had I had a little bit more persuasion, I might have danced. Next time perhaps.
Moving on...the reason for this post, was the time I got to spend with Zain and his friends after the festival. I have never found it difficult to enter into a group of people. I have the ability my mother has: that of adapting to any crowd. So, when we all set out for the night, I fell right into step. But the most incredible part was the acceptance of me...the lonely white girl.
I am wondering if this is even something worth writing about. Well it is. If only for the fact that I got to listen to them speak in Hindi and be involved in what I have always wanted...a brown clan. I have a feeling that people think I am getting more and more racist as this post continues. However, that couldn't be farther from the truth. Should I even be grateful that they accepted me? Probably not. For they are not unlike any other decent human beings accepting another human being into their group for the night.
But I felt accepted...especially when Anky (awesome nickname) vocally accepted me into the group. I felt honored. I realized that I am not too old to make new friends and be able to create new relationships with people. I always thought it was exhausting to maintain and grow new relationships. But I realized that they are only exhausting when they feel obligatory or burdensome. These people are just downright hilariously fun.
I do really hope that this post does these people justice, and even more so that it makes sense. My brain is fried...prolly should get to bed earlier than 530am, but every moment was worth it. Even if I was a complete jack ass to a certain someone who knows and hopefully has forgiven me. There I go being cryptic again ;-)
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