Why some weekends leave you tired!

(This post I initially began March 27th.  I don't know if it was the weekend that left me tired and unable to finish the post, or if it's just fullness of life!) . . .

In a good way, but tired none the less.  March 21st is the Persian New Year's; Nav Ruz.  It's a big deal here and the celebrations last for days.  The 21st fell on a Thursday, so the city wide celebration wasn't until Friday.  Ethan's class celebrated together on Wednesday.  Everyone was supposed to bring something for the class party.  Nothing was assigned or organized, so they ended up with lots of cake, cookies, candy and the deep-fat fried potato filled "porushkis."

I made a cake and Ethan and I decorated it like the flag, complete with the typical Nav Ruz congratulations.  Ethan's Cyrillic is much better than mine.  So he traced it with a toothpick and then I iced it.

Our local pose before taking the cake to school

Most little girls get their special new dress for the year at Nav Ruz.  Elli was included.  It was still cool, thus the long sleeves underneath.  Elli got this hair bow from Aunt Jenni several years ago.  Her hair is finally long enough.  Local girls wear large white bows, so her big pink matching bow was a hit!

The city wide celebration began at 8 a.m., though we didn't get there until closer to 9.  Much of it felt like Game Day in Manhattan.  The main street was blocked off and people were walking everywhere.  The "jumbotron" that shows music videos many summer nights, was on and displaying the festivities taking place in the stadium for the many that wanted to watch.  Every neighborhood set up a "stall" with traditional elements on display; a day to celebrate Persian culture.  However, much of the "ancient" elements on display are still very much a part of current life and celebration.  We walked the streets, checking out every booth.  We greeted friends and acquaintances.  We enjoyed the first ice cream of the year and kebab.  And then we crowded into the park with all the other families, waiting in Central Asian "lines" for the carousel and boat swing.  It was such a fun day to blend in and join in the celebrating.

Saturday we left the house early to travel to a village where Austin has a project.  Several villages were joining together to celebrate and they invited us to join.  Loaded in the work truck, we set out unsure of what we would experience.  I was hoping I wouldn't be hosted in a back room, trying to keep my kids obedient around the floor table while Austin was out mingling.

We stopped for a roadside potty break before driving into the village and the truck refused to start.  But it wasn't long before a truck full of village leaders, wearing their long black coats, pulled over.  After hearty handshakes and greetings, they set to work, fixing the truck.  The quick repair job involved changing out batteries to kick start our truck.

 

Dressed more conservatively for our village visit, I sat in the truck with the kids, watching hands hard at work.  Large, calloused brown hands alongside Austin's farm boy trained hands. 

Many times it feels like the ones we come to help, help us.  

We entered the village and were quickly ushered into this long room.  The "white beards" seated at the head of the room made it very obvious no other women or children would be seated in this room.  The kids and I quickly ate our bowl of sour soup and made an appropriate exit to "watch" all the festivities.  It's a great feeling when you can start reading cultural cues!
 

So, instead this was the fun the kids and I joined in on.  We watched the teen boys dancing in the school yard, and snagged goodies as they were brought out on trays.  You could feel the excitement in the old and young alike!

This was the line delivering osh from the kitchen to the rooms where the women were seated.  Two huge pots of osh had been prepared to feed the village and curriers brought plates at a time to the tables for all to enjoy.

Elias and his new friend

 

And then the dancing that happened after we had eaten.  They cranked the music up and the women danced in their circle while the men danced in their own circle.  I was quickly whisked into the middle of the circle; one woman taking Zeke, the other taking my bag and camera, and strongly urged to dance.  It was a blast, but quickly overwhelmed Elli.  The pushing and shoving and strong commands can be a little much.  I exited the dancing in hopes of helping Elli calm down.  She felt much better once we had a little space and I was holding Zeke again.  

To start the truck and leave required more help.  I wish I would have thought to take a picture, as 20 of the young village men pushed our truck, in reverse up a hill to get it to start.

What a fun weekend of celebration.  Full of blessings and opportunities to be welcomed in and be a part!