Hebrew Bible and Christian Scriptures

scenery shot from the bus window

Our time in Hyderabad was spent as guests of our dear friends Sagar and Kaliani as they became our guide’s for the wedding of Sagar’s brother, Vijay. We kicked off the time with shopping for sarees, kurtas and shalwars (traditional Indian clothing items), had the chance to go to a dedication of an indigenous church, and got to enjoy all of the trappings of a wedding weekend (including purchasing bangles, which made the other girls beside themselves with joy). One tradition that we got to enjoy was the groom preparation ceremony. After a time of blessings offered and prayers given, the ceremony devolved into a festive party, celebrating Vijay and his new life. Of course, this is India, so celebrating involved a massive dance party (Bollywood style!) and the tradition of covering the groom with paint. And maybe also covering all the guests in paint.

The wedding itself was so much fun to be a part of. I was honored that we were invited and included the way we were. All told, the time in Hyderabad was one for the memory books – I got to wear a saree, got henna on my hands, took fancy photos with the team and got caught up in the joy that swirled all around me.

Another fantastic highlight of the trip was the afternoon we got to spend having tea and conversation in Sagar and Kaliani’s home. I had the privilege of knowing Sagar when he was at Truett and it was fantastic to see his life in India and how he has carved out life for himself since leaving. It was an honor to have them share their souls with us for that time.

Stay tuned for the next installment: iPhones and camels: juxtaposition in jaipur

Just to clarify. These signs were everywhere in Hyderabad.

Our first order of business was the purchase of appropriate clothing. While the guys quickly picked out their wedding kurtas, the girls got swept upstairs to begin with our daily wear – shalwar kameezes. We then headed downstairs to be fitted for our wedding sarees. Shout-out to the men, who waited paitently during that four-hour shopping process.

The saree store. INSANE.

Getting henna done for the wedding!

Vijay’s preparation ceremony – getting covered in curry paint

CJ and Katie cannot believe they have their faces covered.

Mal struggles to take photos with her face painted

With Michael in our wedding wear!

Kari and I in our sarees

Mal and I react to how ridiculous our lives are at that moment

Stroope and the girls in our wedding finest

Depending on who you ask, April-September in Northern Ireland is referred to as “The Marching Season,” “The Paramilitary Party Season,” or, by the most cynical of my friends, “The Silly Season.” The time surrounding July 12 is the height of sectarian activity, with the night before marked by bonfires in loyalist neighborhoods throughout the nation. “The July 12th Fortnight” is an unofficial holiday time – with many businesses on ‘vacation’ and families leave the country. For an explanation, check my blog entry from 2006. This photo was taken at the Annandale Embankment in East Belfast on July 11, 2006.

I woke up yesterday and knew immediately that it was July 11th. I don’t know how I still move in these emotional rhythms, but I do. I know that gatherings would be happening all day and long into the night, celebrating a reality that grieves me. I pride myself on being respectful of people and their opinions, beliefs and practices – but I will admit to having a hard time swallowing some of the traditions surrounding the 12th. It feels divisive and damaging and driven by hatred. I remember sitting on the hill and feeling the heat of the bonfire envelop me as I wondered how I would be celebrating this if I was a native.

Most of my friends shun the 12th, leaving the country for vacation – or at the very least, baracading themselves in their house on the night of the 11th and rolling their eyes at the activities of a minority of their fellow countrymen. Because it is a minority, I promise. But I had students who clung to these traditions for their identity. They understood themselves as part of this community and this is how this community carves itself out. What’s the line between valid expression and damaging division?

I’m not ashamed to say this piece of the culture grieves me. Celebration of difference as a ranking system grieves me anywhere, but even more in this country that has captured my soul. So, in light of all of that, I am sending thoughts and prayers of peace, wellness and calm to that wee isle today and I’d invite you to do the same.