Back when I was a student at The University of Texas at Austin, I heard about this strange new Indian holiday known only as “Holi.” I saw the colorful advertisements plastered around campus and everyone was talking about how much they were looking forward to the even, but coming from Katy, I had no idea what the celebration was for much less why everyone was so excited for it. For those you who are in a similar boat, Holi is Hindu festival celebrated in the month of March to commemorate the victory of good over evil. There is a long Hindu mythological story behind it that you can read about here, but all I cared about was that it was an excuse to throw brightly colored powder at strangers, dunk people with buckets of water, and dance to lively Indian music. What more can a person want? From that first year at UT, I fell in love with the holiday, so when I found out that I’d be in India, the land where it all started, there was no way I was passing up the opportunity!
If there was ever a “once-in-a-lifetime” experience on my trip, this was it.
After my visit to the Taj Maha with Chan Tal and Kevin, the three of us headed to a small town called Vrindavan (map) about an hour north of Agra (map). We planned on celebrating Holi with some other friends from our hostel in New Delhi, but didn’t know how to get to Vrindavan or even where our accommodation was located. Unfazed, we booked a general class ticket to Vrindavan and decided to just figure it out on the way. For those of you who have ever taken a train in India, you know it's a genuinely authentic Indian experience, but the general class car of an Indian train is a different animal altogether. General class tickets can be used for any train heading in the direction of your final destination, but there are only a few cars on each train allocated for passengers holding this type of ticket.
“So what happens if the train is overbooked?”
That never happens, it's impossible to “overbook” these cars. The only limit to the number of tickets that can be redeemed for travel is based on the number of people that can physically cram in the train car. The more the merrier! So if you’re holding a general class ticket, be prepared for when the train enters the station because it’s a no-holds-bar, free-for-all where every man, woman, and child is on their own. The experience took me completely off guard; I’ve never seen such chaos outside of an EDM concert full of drunk, stone, or high 20-year-olds. Chan Tal, Kevin, and I fought our way through the crowds and I barely made it on the train; as it departed the station I was forced to hang on to the railing outside the car until I could wedge myself in.
Welcome to India.
While I managed to squeeze inside the car, I’ve never felt more like a sardine in my life. Luckily I got a spot next to the door, so at least there was some ventilation, but for the next hour I stood there crammed among the locals with not even enough space to move my feet, much less sit down. I had absolutely no personal space, the train car wreaked of BO, and a man fell asleep on my shoulder, but I couldn’t help but smile… this is what I wanted. As I watched the Indian countryside fly by outside and listened the myriad of conversations around me, it finally sunk in where I was in the world. Here I am standing in a crowded, smelly Indian train with just my backpack heading to a random town called Vrindavan to celebrate Holi with my new friends from New Delhi after seeing the Taj Mahal this afternoon.
How did this become my life? I can’t believe I’m actually here!
The city of Vrindavan along with Mathura (map) and Varanassi (map) are the top three places in India to celebrate Holi as recommended by my fellow travelers. Vrindavan is where the deity Krishna, an extremely important figure in Hindu society, grew up and one of the craziest places to celebrate the colorful holiday. Chan Tal, Kevin, and I arrived the day before the official celebration and meet up with the rest of the group who were already covered in colors from earlier that afternoon. We settled in for the evening, prepared ourselves for the chaos of the following day, and were up bright and early so we didn’t miss a second of the festivities.
Holi 2015 started with a small private celebration in a random hotel courtyard that somehow everyone knew about but me. I don’t know who found out about this, where it was located, or even why they allowed us in, but I didn’t care because it excellent preparation for the torrent of people out in the city streets. There was dancing, singing, plenty of colored powder, and surprisingly even food! I don’t know where on earth I was, but there was good company and happy people all around.
There’s no point in overthinking it.
From the hotel, we were released into the crowds of people celebrating in the streets. There sheer chaos and number of people inundating the small town was astounding - even by Indian standards! I’ve never seen a city turn into such a madhouse. Back in UT, I was stunned by the mess of people on the south mall of my university for Holi, but it was isolated and well controlled. In Vrindavan the entire city was filled to capacity with people throwing colored powder, shooting water guns, and even dumping buckets of water from top of apartment buildings on unsuspecting passersby. Nobody was off limits or too “sacred” to be covered in the vibrant powder. I didn’t matter if you were young or old, rich or poor, friend or stranger, or even if you were a monkey, cat, dog, or cow; everyone was fair game!
As a giant group of 20+ white foreigners, we were prime targets for the locals and the group was completely overwhelmed by the number of people that covered us in powder. We made our way through the streets as we were pelted by literally everyone who passed by. Locals would come from across the road and go out of their way to cover the group in powder creating giant plumes of purple, red, and pink dust in the air. Frequently the clouds of powder around us was so thick that it became difficult to breath at times or even open our eyes, but it was an experience like none other.
Chan Tal, Kevin, and I along with our French friend, Amaury, broke off from the main group to explore the narrow, winding streets of Vrindavan by us. We walked for upwards of an hour and every single road or walkway was full of people celebrating. The walls, dirt roads, shops, and animals that lined the streets were all laden with a variety colored powder while the drainage ditches and puddles ran red, purple, and pink. The city of Vrindavan became a giant, filthy, wet, colorful mess of a town from top to bottom that and it reminded me of my college house, El Campo, after a massive party.
We left the large group hoping to blend in more, and while Kevin, Amaury, and I were left pretty much alone, poor Chan Tal suffered the brunt of harassment. The three guys were forced to play a twisted version of keep away as we blocked guys away or pulled her out of surprise groups of men all the while she was repeatedly pelted with handfuls of powder, shot with water guns, and drenched with buckets of water at ever turn. I’m honestly surprised that she managed to last as long as she did outside that afternoon. For most of the time, Chan Tal looked like she was having a good time, but after a couple of hours her patience began to (understandably) wear thin and we made our way back to our guesthouse.
I probably would have called it quits a lot sooner if I were a woman in Vrindava on Holi.
At this point is should not come as a surprise that Holi is difficult if you are a woman. Sadly people in this region of the world are extremely sexually repressed, so if you go out on Holi as a woman, expect to get harassment, felt up, and generally attacked by the local population. While I detest the conduct of many of the men during Holi, there’s no two ways about it: these guys will take every opportunity you give them. Frequently, the men in the group had to physically yank our female compatriots out of spontaneous flash mobs full of men. This isn’t to say there aren’t good people though. At one point Chan Tal took a giant handful of powder right in the eyes rendering her blind for a few minutes, but a group of guys came to our aid with water and rags to clean her up. It takes a special breed of woman, with especially think skin and a high tolerance for BS, to wander the streets of India during Holi. People think I’m crazy for traveling around the world by myself, but it’s nothing compared to the women in our Holi group. They are tough.
When we returned to our guesthouse we were all covered by a thick later of dust that had caked into our skin after repeatedly being soaked in water and dried by the hot sun. Thankfully, I was wearing throwaway clothes I picked up on the road, but every square inch of use was under some layer of powder, dust, or dirt we collected on our relatively brief walk around town. It took a while to scrub off all of the color that stained my skin and clothes, and even though it wasn’t even 3:00 pm yet, I was in desperate need of a nap. I absolutely loved my very first authentic Indian Holi celebration and it is a memory I will never forget. Holi in Vrindavan makes the celebration on UT’s South Mall look like child’s play, but without a doubt it is my favorite holiday in the world! India is off to a remarkable start!