Fire Binds (Culture of Colour - Part Two)

Asha and Dharmesh
Grahamstown

"I thought I'd be more nervous," Asha says, smiling as she stands before me, draped from head to toe in jewels that make up the most beautiful dress I think I have ever seen in my lifetime, "but I just feel normal." The day has arrived, a day that has taken weeks and months of planning, and her excitement is infectious.

The day itself passes in the blink of an eye, a blur of colour and laughter that will be remembered for years to come, not only by the couple but by all the guests in attendance. It's one of those weddings that becomes the talk of the town and the one that future weddings will strive towards. And what made it truly incredible was the couple themselves - their calmness under the overwhelming stress of the day which came from the knowledge that, once it was over, they would be able to go home to one another.

I usually have a way with words, but today words fail me as I look back on this beautiful Indian wedding. I think that the photographs, in this instance, speak for themselves. Enjoy!

Culture of Colour: Part One

Asha and Dharmesh
Grahamstown

"I thought I'd be nervous," Asha says, smiling as she stands before me, draped from head to toe in jewels that make up the most beautiful dress I think I have ever seen in my lifetime, "but I just feel normal." And it strikes me that even on one of the most important days of her life, she seems like her normal, bubbly, friendly self. While some brides turn to monsters on their big days, Asha has kept her cool throughout the journey to her day, and it's been a long journey.

Yellow, red, purple, blue, pink, yellow, red.

From the outside, the house looks the same as always - the only visible difference is the garland that dresses the patio's doorway, the main thoroughfare for the guests who will be coming for the first of three ceremonies. Once inside though, the lounge has been transformed into a small temple and it lends an air of excitement to the day.

Though the room is empty when I arrive, within minutes it is filled with friends, family and neighbours, more people than I would have thought the room would allow for, who have all come to celebrate with Asha and to wish her well by joining in to paint her skin with a mixture of chickpea flour, turmeric, rose water and other natural bits and bobs that make up the Pithi paste. Though it starts as a solemn and serious affair, the room is soon filled with chatter and laughter, light and colour as each of the guests takes their turn to adorn the bride with paint and pass on their few words of sage wisdom.

Green, pink, yellow, red, blue, orange, white.

The Masonic Hall is mostly empty when I arrive. I'm a little early, but it's worth it for the chance to take in the details - the statuettes and bright garlands, the salts and spices, the powders and string - before the hordes of people begin to file in. It's time for the Grah Shanti to begin.

"I drove from PE," one of the guests informs me as I wait for the bridal party to arrive.
"It's only right," he continues, "that she has family here."
His words hang in the air, his thought uncompleted, but I know what it is that he isn't saying. The memory of Asha's father hangs heavily over the festivities, a constant reminder of the pain of loss that comes from love. But the Daya women are strong, and today is about celebration, initiation and family. I'm reminded of this as the family come forward towards the end of the ceremony to be bound by red string, as they stand together as one with Asha at the centre, a uniting source of mutual joy.

Not Just For Fun

Participants in the RAVE Run/Walk
Grahamstown

It was the perfect day for a walk. The sun was shining for the first time in a long time and I was actually starting to feel hot in my long sleeved black shirt, hot enough to wish that I had worn something more along the lines of what everyone else was wearing. On this occasion, that happened to be tank tops and shorts, and considering how cold it has been in Grahamstown recently, the fact that I wanted to follow suit says something.



Of course, these people were wearing tank tops and shorts for good reason. They were being sensible, understanding that running or even walking five kilometres in a long sleeved black shirt and jeans was not going to be comfortable. And each and every one of the people surrounding me was intending on walking five kilometres. I could tell from the bright orange cards around their necks, the cards that singled them out as participants in the RAVE Run (or Walk).



The RAVE, or Respect And Value Everyone walk was in aid of the Adinkra Child Mentoring Programme, a programme founded by Danielle Djan which pairs children from disadvantaged background with Rhodes University students in order to benefit them both - the children by providing them with role models and people to look up to, with people to help them through their tough times and show them that there is a light at the end of the tunnel; the students by providing them with a purpose, with someone they can inspire and giving them a reason for being inspirational. It was appropriate then that the orange cards that people were wearing around their necks had a space on them for a photo to be pinned besides which, in bold black letters, were the words: "I'M RUNNING FOR YOU!"



Considering that I had heard nothing about the walk before Mike had phoned me on Sunday morning, I was quite surprised at the large outcome. Over 100 people were there and ready, orange cards around their necks and paint on their faces. Most of them were young - either from the schools in the area or in their early University years, but there were a number of locals as well - families who had come to walk together, mothers and daughters, fathers and sons and members of the Run/Walk For Life organisation, all ready to get running and walking for a cause.



As the marshalls were placed along the path, ready to direct both the runners and any traffic that they might encounter, the participants started stretching their legs and getting ready for the starting sprint. By 3pm, they were off. Some started full speed ahead, others slow and steady, but all had a sense of purpose to their stride - they weren't just walking. They were marching, protesting, supporting and encouraging. They were inspiring. At the end of the day, it didn't really matter who came first, second, third or last. The prizes at the end were not the purpose for anyone participating. It was all about the meaning behind the walk, all about the message that they wanted to spread. And with every car that drove past, every van that was stopped to let a participant through, it was working. People stopped and stared. People questioned, And that was the point.



An hour and a half later, the final woman walked through the gates and the walk came to an end. Sure, there wasn't the turn out that some had imagined. There was less enthusiasm than had been expected. But curiosity had been peaked. I suspect that next year, there are going to be a lot more people walking through the streets of Grahamstown. And whether they run or walk, you'll certainly be noticing them.