Happy Hindu Hoe-down on the Low Prairie

Ok. That title is a bit misleading, but I can say with near certainty that at least 7% of us in attendance were not Hindu.

The occasion was the first birthday of David, my friend Glory's son. For the celebration, Glory and Rajeev invited the pastor and a few friends from church--and every last Southeast Asian Indian currently living in the Bartlesville area. And with Conoco-Phillips' presence in town, that accounted for many, many invitations. Last Saturday night all of us assembled in the atrium of my old church back in B'ville.

It was lovely. Gosh, I wish I could have assembled every woman in that atrium, young or old, for a group photograph because their saris were simply stunning. Such color! I wore a tunic outfit from April Cornell--asianish and modest--that suited the event, but man, I still felt like week-old hash next to the beautiful butterflies who floated around in their silks that night.

And the food! Good glory! (Good Glory!) was it heavenly. For that alone, it was worth the trip. We whities got to play 'what's in the rice?' while I explained the ingredients for raita to my pastor, who's an amateur chef.

Of course, the kids got a giant sheet cake, because food coloring and sugar means 'happiness' in any culture.














And the men documented the whole affair.















Coming back home, I thought a lot about our hopes for community. If any group of humans is likely to resemble any other group, then surely there were those in this gathering who disliked one another, held a grudge, was irritating or otherwise unpleasant. And yet we stick together by bonds of culture and need. If we are lucky, or work very hard at it, we find ourselves drawn to others by friendship and love. To find such blessing requires God logic, not man logic; for what it takes is beyond fear and frailty, beyond power or persuasion.

I think I enjoyed a taste of that blessing Saturday night.