Fackeltanz!

Let me just begin by saying that I. Love. the. Festival of Colors! And who wouldn't? A million packages of colored, scented chalk dust chucked into the air, with an uncanny propensity to be inhaled and choked on. Who wouldn't love that? Okay, so a lot of people wouldn't. But it's a blast to get completely coated in neon-colored powder.

Savannah, Michelle, Kristina, my date, and I went to the first color throwing this morning, wading through snow (which turned to mud by the time we finished). But when you cram a couple thousand people onto a hillside, you stop worrying about snow.

This is our before shot. Trust me. The after shots are pretty obvious. By this time, we'd finished this crazy awesome Hindu dance that got us sweating, so we definitely didn't notice the cold anymore. Probably a good thing.

The festivities start with live music, dancing, and, if you know where to find it, more information about the legends behind the festival. And, to keep ourselves amused, we smear each other with chalk.

The handprints on the butts... that was me. What can I say? I'm trouble. ;)

Then, there's a big countdown (and a sudden surge in the number of people attempting to bodysurf... which is inconvenient) and everyone throws whatever chalk they haven't smeared on their comrades into the air. The sky goes dark (well, purpleish brown), the air suddenly becomes saturated with more powder than even a healthy person should probably be allowed to inhale. After several minutes, most of the dust settles and you emerge looking something like this:

Favorite part about this picture? The guy in the background, joining in our picture. We were less emotive, but that's about how we felt. :)

Some of our original smearing still shows, but we were wearing white, if you recall.

Assuming you don't have face coverings or the presence of mind to keep your mouth closed, you come out looking like a dentist's worst nightmare and suddenly your skin is several shades darker than it should be. You can't escape it, you can't run from it. You just jump in the middle and get as dirty as you possibly can. And if you do happen to look cleaner than most, well, there are a couple hundred clever people (including me, this year) who keep at least one bag of colored chalk in reserve to dump on you and solve the problem of looking too clean at Holifest.

Which is funny, because I did actually manage to look cleaner this year than I did last year. My shirt still looks marginally white.

So I guess that's proof that you can come out of Holifest with salvageable clothing. (Which is good, because even though I bought that pink undershirt to destroy it, I actually kind of like it, so I want to get it clean again). Granted, you'll be sneezing purple boogers for a few days, your hair will turn the shower water purple for at least five minutes, and you may or may not find neon colors under your nails.

But you know what? It's totally worth it! I'm probably not doing a very good job of convincing you, but that's okay. Some people hate being dirty. They don't go. For me, it's a great excuse to get dirty, since my cozy desk job and magazine class don't exactly provide many opportunities for that.

And Holifest is a celebration of springtime (ironic, with the freshly fallen snow on the ground...) which means that it officially marks the beginning of my summer adventures, which will hopefully include hot springs, lava tubes, canyoning, camping, and waterfalls, and, if I'm very very lucky, spelunking.

Oh, and for the record, "fackeltanz" is a German word that basically has to do with torchlit wedding processions for German royals. But we discovered it playing Balderdash and our favorite definition was more along the lines of "maseltov," so the nuance kind of stuck. So throw some imaginary confetti in the air, waggle your fingers and say "fackeltanz!" I promise it will make you feel smiley.

Or maybe that's just me. The word nerd loves new words, and they always make her smile.