In Pokhara I learned that the Nepalese love to celebrate the start of the new year by running. Good resolutions, I guess. Well, it worked for me because all of a sudden I love running. This never happened to me before. I don't think I would enjoy hopping around purple faced by myself, but sharing sweat and receiving motivational shouts from a bunch of people is actually a lot of fun. Plus I'm not the only one who is glowing in the dark with a face the colour of an overripe tomato. Everyone looks like that when you're running like a maniac.
That's probably exactly the reason why some genius came up with the idea of a colour run. You can't tell whose face is more fluorescent while running because everyone is covered with coloured powder. It's a paint race without the race. People are smiling, yelling with joy and getting paint out of their eyes all while running through clouds of colour dust. There is one rule only: you have to start off with a white T-shirt. Just to see how much of a rainbow you turned into after a couple of kilometers. When the colour run hit Pokhara I wanted to be a part of it. I felt like I belonged amidst running hippies who shower themselves with coloured paint. I was in. But I didn't own a white Tee. But somewhere in the dark corners of my backpack I had a wedding dress crying to be used again.
Off I went, in the whitest outfit a woman can own. My love on the sideline, his legs too sore from the race the day before. It was hilarious, it was crazy, it was like I ran straight into a rainbows guts. That's exactly what I looked like at the finish. But then there was that bag full of red powder. What looked like a colourful hippie before, turned into frankensteins bride. Especially the walk back through town was hilarious. People didn't know what they were seeing. Like a wave, shopkeepers ran out of their stores to get a glimpse of that zombie bride in her bloody wedding dress. Tourists asked me if they could take a picture with me, women burst out laughing and children followed me all the way home. I was the local freakshow, and I didn't mind. I felt strangely at home.