Holy Days

It's been a long time since I lived in winter, much less autumn.  I'm used to summer temperatures lasting through October and popping up again in December, I've thought for a long time that the breezy, sunshiny perfection of coastal Texas in January makes up for its swampy summer, and you know I've been enjoying Singapore's fragrant, heavy air and the cool breath of the sea in the shade even on the hottest days.  There's something in me that wants the leaves to change and fall, though, and the nights to cool, and the days to shorten and grow dark, little by little.  I feel like it's a cultural thing and a human thing, that we acknowledge the dying of the year and our own mortality, that we offer gratitude for abundance while preparing ourselves for scarcity.

I'm not finding Autumn here in the enduring greenery and the unchanging days, and I'm glad that I'll be traveling soon to a place where I can get a much needed dose of fiery leaves and crisp air.  I might even bring myself to pay a ridiculous amount for a pumpkin that's going to rot the second I cut it.  And there are signs of the season: there are Autumn branches decorating my favorite department store, there are Halloween crafts in the art store, and these guys went up the first week in October:

Ah, feels just like home.

There are ten public holidays granted by the Singaporean government each year.  Two are Christian holy days, two are holy days for Muslims, two are just good secular days to have a day off; there's one day each for Hindus and Buddhists, and Chinese New Year gets two days to itself.  I will happily have extra parties and days off and festivities for any special day you want to honor (it's possible my children have talked me into half-birthday cupcakes, and NOT because I'm a total pushover), but I'm extra enchanted to live in a country where everyone celebrates every one else's religious and cultural highlights.  I've let two of these official holidays and two cultural holidays (that don't get you a day off) pass so far without telling you about them; I didn't feel like I learned enough or experienced enough to really do the days justice, but I promise I will eventually do a proper post for each.

Here's the thing: I think it would be weird for me to tell you "all about" Deepavali; I couldn't possibly be very knowledgeable about a culture and a faith that is not my own, even if being a know-it-all is usually totally my thing.  I am enthralled to learn more about how other people live, however, and especially about what people in other places value and celebrate.  I believe, like a good hippie, in the threads that unify humanity and the common experiences that unite individuals, and I enjoy looking for those.  So I'm doing my best to experience new things as a respectful observer and share what I experience, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to find a way to screw this up, because that's where I really excel: I'm fantastic at cultural faux pas and being inadvertently offensive on a really grand scale.  Please let me know if you read anything you know to be wrong or believe to be hurtful; I will apologize profusely and fix it immediately and hope you will still be my friend.

The problem is that I want to tell you ALL THE THINGS about what I've learned about Deepavali because there are so many great stories and neat practices and cool traditions.  At the same time that it is new for me, it feels so immediately familiar.

It's about the light overcoming the darkness.

It's about coming home after being away and being welcomed joyfully.

It's about opening yourself to receive abundance.

And some more abundance.

No such thing as too much abundance.

It's about cleaning your house (or your store) even in the nooks that no one sees and decorating every inch of everything to get ready for guests.

And it's about feasting and telling stories with friends and family in everyone's favorite clothing.  Sometimes with dancing, even, which isn't really part of my culture, but I wish it were, and I might decide that it is and make it so.

And when I put it that way it seems like there's nothing to tell, after all, and perhaps nothing for me to mess up.  There is certainly a rich cultural and religious history that is central to this holiday that is important to recognize and learn about, but I don't think I'm the right person to share that information.  

For now, it's Deepavali eve here in Singapore.  There are decorations everywhere, we've had school parties and crafts and gatherings for a few weeks, people started cooking in advance days ago, tonight folks are getting off early to gather and put final touches on preparations, there are ads all over that tap into everyone's mooshy holiday feelings to get them to buy lots of stuff, and even the Hard Rock Cafe is having a giant Deepavali party.  I can share that I'm going to do my best to make a massive pile of biryani (er...I don't think that's the right phrasing.  Nonetheless.) tomorrow so that we can do some feasting. And we'll light every tea light and set off what firecrackers are allowed in Singapore (only sparklers, sadly) in the spirit of the festival.  We'll celebrate light in the encroaching dark and the possibility of abundance and success even as we guard against our fears of scarcity, and I'll bask in the familiarity of the rhythm of the seasons and the universality of holidays where people ask, "Are you SURE you got enough to eat?  Let me pack you a plate to take home."