Full circle
It's not often that I remember a particular day from a previous year. But today I remember. Today last year, that is. And today last year wasn't actually today, it was tomorrow. I'm confusing you...
Today marks the beginning of Boshontokal, one of Bangladesh's six seasons. Sheetkal, cold season, has just ended and I'm told that Boshontokhal can basically be translated as 'neither-cold-nor-hot season'. Why use a confusing word like 'Spring' when you can just call it like it is?
It is a memorable day because it is celebrated by donning spring colours, orange and yellow. Last year on this day I did not know it was the first day of Boshontokal. I just thought it was Wednesday. So I wore black, because I happened to feel like black that day. If I remember correctly it was also Valentines Day, so perhaps I was engaging is some kind of fashion-based protest against Hallmark's version of a holiday.
When I arrived at the office of a local NGO that morning, which I remember to be a beautiful, fresh morning, atypical of Dhaka mornings, I barely noticed what people were wearing. But then, in the middle of a meeting with the director, one of the office staff interrupted to present me with a chain of orange marigolds and a smudge of orange powder on my forhead. I'm not sure if it was out of hospitality, or to rectify my terrible black blunder, but either way I was pleased. And I remember that meeting more fondly than most!
This year, I learned from my mistakes and laid out my only orange outfit the night before. I was ready to welcome the spring that is known as neither-hot-nor-cold. I proved that it is possible for a clueless foreigner such as myself to fit in, at least a little.
Today marks the beginning of Boshontokal, one of Bangladesh's six seasons. Sheetkal, cold season, has just ended and I'm told that Boshontokhal can basically be translated as 'neither-cold-nor-hot season'. Why use a confusing word like 'Spring' when you can just call it like it is?
It is a memorable day because it is celebrated by donning spring colours, orange and yellow. Last year on this day I did not know it was the first day of Boshontokal. I just thought it was Wednesday. So I wore black, because I happened to feel like black that day. If I remember correctly it was also Valentines Day, so perhaps I was engaging is some kind of fashion-based protest against Hallmark's version of a holiday.
When I arrived at the office of a local NGO that morning, which I remember to be a beautiful, fresh morning, atypical of Dhaka mornings, I barely noticed what people were wearing. But then, in the middle of a meeting with the director, one of the office staff interrupted to present me with a chain of orange marigolds and a smudge of orange powder on my forhead. I'm not sure if it was out of hospitality, or to rectify my terrible black blunder, but either way I was pleased. And I remember that meeting more fondly than most!
This year, I learned from my mistakes and laid out my only orange outfit the night before. I was ready to welcome the spring that is known as neither-hot-nor-cold. I proved that it is possible for a clueless foreigner such as myself to fit in, at least a little.
posted by ash at 4:37 AM
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