Why The Holi Festival of Colors is Still Cool

     This Saturday was the annual Holi Festival of Colors held at the Hare Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork, Utah.  It celebrates the arrival of spring and involves hundreds of Mormon college students throwing up colored powder, taking far too many pictures, and posting them all on Facebook as soon as possible.

     This year, two separate celebrations were held to alleviate driving and parking problems.  Still, BYU students packed as many friends as they could into their car for the drive down because they only thing worse than parking and walking for twenty minutes is parking and walking for thirty minutes.  The less cars down there, the better.

     For most Mormon BYU students, the Festival of Colors is the closest they'll get to a Woodstock-like experience.  The place is packed, a band is playing, and people are moshing.  You then have to wait for far too long until it's actually time to "throw the colors".  Its worth the wait though.




     The sky goes dark, you can't breathe, and when the dust finally settles, you are a mess.  It doesn't matter what kinds of pictures you take, they all look the same.  Regardless, everyone takes hundreds.  For anyone with lots of Provo friends but not familiar with the festival, logging onto Facebook that night could be a surreal experience.
     There is plenty to mock about over-enthusiastic BYU students' obsession with the annual ritual, and plenty of people refuse to go just because they don't want to "conform".  When the proverbial colored powder settles though, I'm glad I went, and I'll probably go again next year.

     It's a unifying experience.  All of our petty differences don't matter.  No matter if you love BYUSA or hate it, if you like in Alpine Village or Branbury, if you are a true blue football fan or if you resent it and root for the rugby team, for one day, we're all unified.  We're just a bunch of giddy kids throwing colors in the air and laughing and dancing together.  Mock the trite profile picture swap all you want, but the Festival of Colors (and the two days of purple mucus) will be one of my fondest BYU memories.