This is a story about a pig. Well actually it is about what I did today that reminded me of one horrible pig.
Today I spent my evening at the 32nd annual, international street food bazaar. I was first informed of it by my mother and decided to spend it with my friend Katie Howe. The room was spectacular. When walking in you are bombarded with smells and colors. The ceiling was filled with flags of every nation in the world.
Katie and I walked around the crowded bazaar checking out all the options, all the trinkets and bobbles that each culture had to offer. After Katie bought two beautiful turtle sculptures from Ecuador, I found a little Bangladesh stand where they were offering henna tattoos for five dollars per hand.
In my elementary school we had a culture festival, and each year the main attraction was the henna tattoo parlor. Beautiful designs on our hands, comparing our flowers and swirls, I looked forward to the henna tattoo each year. The last festival of my elementary years, I asked one of my class mates who was volunteering in the parlor to “surprise me.” She drew a horrible picture of a pig, yes a pig, that would last on my hand for a week.
I have not had a henna tattoo since then until now. I spotted the booth; it was five dollars so I thought I would give it a whirl. I was not disappointed. It is beautiful! Well worth the money and the experience.
After getting a henna tattoo I went and found a delectable meal presented by the African Society which included a sosaties, kachumbari, and a cabob. Although the cabob is not a unusual food, I enjoyed the contrasting flavors of the sosaties and kachumbari which balanced each other perfectly.
Following the meal we enjoyed many performances including a very elegant flag dance from India, and a Hip Hop routine from Japan, both of which displayed amazing fluidity in movement and extreme coordination.
All together I had a fantastic night that I will look forward to next year.