Sunday, a Fun day...a 'Holi' day!!!

A day that began with a craving for South Indian Breakfast, for idlis, dosas and vadas, something that rarely gets made at home, something P and I love, in my case I prefer to have them at Restaurants, they are simply better, a day that ended with a flourish, at the Company’s apartment building.

I have always been fascinated with vibrant colours, on clothes, in houses, in gardens, around the city and on faces. This is precisely why am mesmerised by this small city, these colours are everywhere. When it comes to 'Holi', I love to douse people with colours, when it's my turn, I prefer to hide. Despite the fun and frolic associated with the festival, I choose to stay away and P is in tandem with me.

The Das’ and us decide to have a quiet South Indian brunch at ‘Royal India’. This place, in our experience has always been consistent with their ‘chow’ and their personal touch makes it more welcoming. We are the only ones around at noon, we walk around sloppily, laugh loudly, talk carelessly, all in gay abandon. We order our vadas, idlis, dosas and, mutton pepper fry for that hint of 'carnivourism'. We get talking about the day ahead, the day that has just gone by, to think we just met the previous day. I believe, it’s not what one eats but the captivating company that one shares during these food trips that makes it special. Yes, food is a very important accessory, especially for us. We take our own sweet time over this delightful brunch, the end is spiced up with a lovely cold cardamom milk, compliments of the Restaurant.

We decide to go for a drive, to this quaint little shack by the lake called ‘Riviera’. We reach 'Riviera' and find the place closed, we also meet a friendly colleague of P’s, whom he can't recognize. We drive back to the main road and towards the Golf area, we decide to go to Le Centaure, a small Horse Club, we check out the magnificent stallions in their stables and then go up to the watch tower to soak in the landscape that spreads out in front of us. The most prominent landmark in Lubumbashi is in sight, the Gecamines Plant. After a few pictures we drive to Cercle Hippique de Lubumbashi ( hope I’ve got the name right ). On our way we pass through a crowd, of people, vehicles and buildings, the view abruptly becomes panoramic, the road itself goes up and down. Among the cloud of trees is the picturesque Horse Club owned by the M Forrest group, vast, scenic and quiet. The Restaurant is charming and outdoors, with a view of their Show Jumping course and the stables on the side. A lovely gallery overlooks the course. Can’t wait to have a nice long lunch there. After going through the schedule of their show jumping events, we move away from the little ‘countryside’ on to the road again. We go around a few more residential colonies and head home to the Das’ for some ‘chai’.

We haven’t had our ‘chai’ yet, Das has a Eureka moment. We decide to visit the other apartment mates for some 'Holi' fun. All of them seem to be in deep slumber, even a cricket match involving India attracts no attention. We decide to wait until one door opens for us, the Patels are first. We welcome ourselves in with a palette of colours and smear the dazed faces with them. After a glass of juice, we  move on to the Agarwals with the Patels, some snacks and ‘chai’ this time, the Agarwals included, we move to the Modis, with the Modis to the Bhattacharyas,  after a few 'pakodas', we go to the second of the Das’ for coffee. We think we are done with the 'Holi' fun but not yet. The final stop is at Saishree and Das’s for some cut fruits. By now we are huddled around playing 'musical chairs', with the kids playing in the centre. P and I stay back for an impromptu ‘un-Holi’ dinner with them. Now the day ends.

Am still charged when we return home, when it is time to sleep I fight it. I want to talk about the day, I want to write about it, I want to relive it but hubby dear is already fast asleep. I go through the day on my own, over and over again, like a song in my head. I must have fallen asleep sometime, when I wake up I realise it’s Monday and it’s time for my blues.

A day that became ‘Holi’!!!

Women, take a Bow!!!

What a day it was, a day Women were celebrated all over the World. In DR Congo, March is their month, celebrations everywhere, festive, full of flavour and fervour. For me personally, it's a day I will always cherish, a day I dare not forget. I have never felt this experience back home and I have never felt this celebrated either. Before I start on my story, I have to thank the chairman of the organisation my husband works for. I will always be grateful for this opportunity.

It all began one afternoon in the 4th week of February, when I was invited to take part in the Women’s day march down the CBD with the Women employees of the organisation. I had no hesitation in saying yes, infact I stood up to say yes. Sharon, the affable receptionist at the organisation brought us materials to tailor our outfits and also took us to do them. My first Congolese outfit!!! Well, can’t really call it that, the material was traditional, bright and colourful but the outfit, not so, but am sure I will get one made soon.

A week ahead of March 8th, I could talk nothing other than ‘Women’s Day’. Can’t believe the day used to pass off in a hurry back home. Am sure P must have thought, "the already talkative woman has just gone on an overdrive". Thankfully, from his point of view he was buried deep for the whole week. I was most certainly talking to myself, am sure, all my talk fell on deaf ears. The outfit looked remarkable and fit perfectly, despite the tailor not paying too much emphasis on the measurement process. He definitely deserves praise. Back home the tailors make such a hue and cry over measurements, only to get it wrong at the end. My accessories were all laid out a day before. I only had to make sure I got showered and dressed in time.

The D day arrives finally. P has never wished me before, this time he seals it with a kiss. I try hard not to make a joke of it. I pause for a moment and tell myself, "what the heck, I‘ll take it". We complain if they don’t wish us and we complain, if they do. We have been asked to assemble at the meeting point at 9am. We talk about taking pictures together, my friend Saishree and I. We do our solo shoots but completely forget the one we are aiming for. On the road we realise we are in a maze of sorts. All roads don’t lead to Rome today. We finally manage to reach on time and find no one from our group has arrived. Is it April already??? We see Women everywhere, in groups, dressed in Women’s day finery, none from ours. When we call, we are told we are at the right place. After waiting for about half an hour, we feel something is wrong, we look around to see one woman from our group ( from the outfit she is wearing ) screaming on the phone. It seems we are not where we should be. Miscommunication is called out.

At the next meeting point, we still don’t see the numbers the group is supposed to be made of. Some of us are annoyed at the lack of organisation. Where is the organiser??? She seems to be available only on the phone. After a while we decide to move again to another place. We end up standing right in the middle of the roundabout close to where the event gets underway, we are still in 'No Man’s' land but are thrilled at the vantage point. The numbers slowly add and now we have a larger group. We finally move to our starting block, we wait our turn under the sun, then slowly move into a bakery for some shade. We see a sea of colours now. We start identifying groups based on clothes and what a display it is. Taking in every bit of it despite the hot sun and fatique slowly catching on!!!

A few more than required want a hold of the banners, I couldn’t care less. Am happy am there and am happy to take the pictures. The organiser is still missing in action. Am sure there is a deputy around, but where??? Intriguing!!! We start marching, can’t do justice to what am feeling in words. Am engulfed in a rush of emotions, of pride, excitement, happiness, expectations, hope, I feel an adrenaline rush, am completely overwhelmed. We march past the roundabout, amidst people rooting for us, we take a right turn into the road leading to 'Poste', we walk through a corridor created by the citizens of Lubumbashi, watching us with admiration from both sides of the road. I now see a VIP podium at 'Poste' on my side and the band playing on the other. We walk past them, Photographers flashing their cameras, TV crews all round, journalists talking on their microphones. Once past the VIP arena, we sight our finishing line. We are all exhausted from the heat but I don’t see a single Woman who has her mouth shut. I see even the quiet ones busy narrating their accounts of the event.

We are now in the Company bus, which would take us to the next Venue…a place to unwind, a place for some piping hot lunch and some ‘dirty dancing’. Cool drinks and ‘Simba’ served, the girls slowly begin loosening up. They should be called the ‘Movers and Shakers’. The rhythm, synchronisation, the sensuality in their style of dancing makes me just sit and watch wide eyed, it’s something to behold. Soon more follow. Before it gets out of control ( in a good way of course ), lunch is served. Typical Congolese fare, I must say I thoroughly enjoy it. Am also called to say a few words on camera for the waiting journalists. I don’t remember what I said, but I do remember fumbling around to find words to express what I have been witness to. Just before the afternoon ends for us, the organiser turns up. Credit to her for putting together a good party. By the time I get back home, it is time to prepare for the evening. No time for a snooze, there is actually but am too excited to spend that time snoring.

The evening comes, we hurtle to ‘La Plage’, the venue for the Cocktail party. The husbands dutifully drop us, before heading back home for a poorer dinner. One attribute the Congolese share with us Indians, a complete lack of respect for time. People walk in at their convenience and make no apologies for it. We find a nearly empty venue, despite being informed the programme would start on dot. We are ushered to our table, which would seat ten of our friends from the march. We sit waiting, sipping our choice of liquor. We are still talking animatedly about the scene from the afternoon. The programme begins and there is not a dull moment after that. An extremely popular singer from Kinshasa is around to perform and what a fantastic performance that is…and interactive. Ms Miriam Katumbi, the sister of the Governor of Lubumbashi must be credited for the fabulous show she has organised. Absolutely down to earth and refreshingly unassuming, it is a pleasure to see her go about the business of the evening.

What a wonderful day!!! I have never felt so celebrated before, am also extremely glad to have shared the day with the Women employees from P’s work place, people I would have never met otherwise.

The hope is to have Women celebrated everyday and hope it doesn’t end with just a party.