Yesterday was the second day of a three day festival in Nepal, called Teej. Teej is a festival for women in which they often celebrate at many of the Temples that honor the god, Shiva. Women at Teej wear the wedding color of red and the mass of women in red saris resembles a sea of red, with the dancing being the waves of the blood stained water. The women are all celebrating and praying for happy marriages, healthy children and husbands, and for the unwed to find good husbands in their futures.

It was raining throughout the day of Teej, and when we arrived at Durbar Square it was a mad sea of red saris and umbrellas. Women were sitting, lined up on the steps of many of the temples, while others where dancing in the crowds below.

I eventually wandered into a small circle of women that were dancing and celebrating and just having a good time. They sang and played drums and all seemed to enjoy within each others company and the celebration as well.

There was just something striking about seeing a sea of red saris and then when there would be a red umbrella. Leave it to the women here to accessorize and coordinate so stunningly, even down to the color of the umbrella.

Many children were also enjoying themselves in the “red sea” and seemed to be the most eager to be in photographs. The little girl on the left in the photograph below kept me challenged for nearly an hour as she followed me everywhere and made it a point to step in the view of my camera at every possible moment.

Suddenly a girl came up to me in the crowd and asked me if I would like to dance with her. I laughed so heartily and declined, but did follow her over and into the group and to where the women of her family where gathered. She was very pretty and dressed in a beautiful purple sari. I learned that her name was Suprima and she pointed out to me the members of her family.

This woman dancing in the photo is Suprima’s mother. Suprima told me that she was only 14 years old, when I would have guessed that she was at least 18. She asked me if I liked Nepali boys or American boys, I then laughed again as I told her that I like myself more than most boys. Suprima invited Allison and I to her house to meet the rest of her family, and I think more so, to meet her two older brothers.

This is Suprima, to the right of Allison, when we went to her house with her. As soon as we arrived she brought out photographs to share with us that showed Allison and I her family, the village that her grandparents live in, and many other things that she has experienced and seen within Nepal. Allison and I spent about an hour at Suprima’s house visiting with her and her two brothers. We exchanged email addresses and phone numbers and told Suprima that we would call her today about going with the women of her house on Monday to the temple where they would end the fast of Teej and bathe in the rivers of Pashupati.

As Suprima walked us to the bridge that would bring us back to Durbar Square, I did find out one interesting fact about Teej that I had not heard before. When the women end their fast on the evening of the second day of Teej, they wash their husbands feet and then drink water from their hands. I could not imagine myself ever really being able to do that, but I also have not been able to imagine being so devoted to anyone that I would fast and then wash their feet. But, what I think really got me thinking the most was imagining a three day long festival for women, that when it all boils down to it, still is really all about the men. It just goes to show you what a patriarchal society this is and just how much importance that is placed on marriage and the male/female dynamic.

As we returned to Durbar Square, we saw that there were so many more people celebrating around the square. We squeezed our way in a bit and began to try and photograph a bit. The sea of red had turned into an ocean and was now so filled with people that dancing was nearly impossible and to get in to the masses to watch the dancing, even harder still. All that we could see was hands rising up and down from the people in the midst of the mass of the read sari ocean.

When we finally made our way into the clearing in front of the women dancing, it was interesting to see the dynamic of the crowd change. The dancing seemed to come to a stop and a clearing was made for us. It seemed that us, the white foreigners, had become the display and the entertainment. So instead of photographing the women dancing, I was photographing the women watching me photograph them. But, as the music started up again, they did continue the clapping and all of the smiles, at the enjoyment of the day’s celebrations.