Journey to India

Last night after a delicious Mughlai dinner at the Broadway Hotel in Varanasi, we were enjoying a sweet poem that Bashu was reciting, recently composed.... when we were interrupted by huge bangs outside on the street. It was a wedding party. The groom was hidden in loads of gold and silver coloured metallic outfits, riding a white horse who was equally fantastically bedecked. There were hundreds of people in the procession. Loud Hindi Bollywood music, ecstatic dancing, fireworks, and workers carrying large electric displays, like huge Christmas lights, on their heads, hooked up electrically to several electric generators also being carried on the streets on rolling trollies. It was wild...absolutely wild. Boys and men were dancing with abandon with wild Michael Jackson moves, Bollywood moves, and every known dance move, from gangster rap to Masai warrior dancing was included. Zaman started to video a particularly talented young man, dancing on the sidelines, who made Michael Jackson's Thriller look patsy.

 

After a while, someone asked me to dance too, and I was surprised as there were no women there, but it seemed harmless enough, and it was late, so I thought why not? So I made a few bellydancing moves to rival the young man's and the crowd went wild. I stopped after 30 seconds, but they begged to join the wedding party, behind the horse and the ornate carriage trailer. I figured it was innocuous enough as there were few lights. At first I said "no" seeing there were no women, but after some persuasion, I joined up briefly. I did a few good moves influenced heavily by the bellydancing that Bahija has taught me....mixed in with some Indian eye and hand movements and you would not believe the surge from the crowd. I instantly had a roar of approval from 100 odd men and boys and they started dancing absolutely wildly. As I twirled around, using my doopata as a veil, I saw a rifle in the crowd, a stern looking Hindu man, and an official bridal party member, and I thought hmmm... perhaps this is not appropriate. I sought quick approval from them to continue, got it and continued for another 30 seconds or so, just long enough to not get into trouble. I had a great time. I danced in the streets of Varanasi. They ran after me to shake my hand as I got on the rickshaws that Kian had arranged in the meantime for our quick getaway. I put my hair back up in a stern looking grey bun, draped my veil modestly around me and off we went into the deserted midnight streeets, back to the hotel.