Festival of Colors Extravaganza!

On Saturday, Forrest and I went to Spanish Fork to participate in the Utah Krishna's Holi Festival, or more commonly known as The Festival of Colors. Basically, it's a celebration of the end of Winter and the beginning of Spring, and everyone throws colored chalk-type material at each other. I dunno, I just wanted to go because when else can you get completely dirty and be happy about it? I think that's the main reason people went...Someone was like "it's the Mormon-version of Woodstock!" Ya know, minus all the immorality and drugs. Anyways, when I got invited to it on Facebook about a month ago, I knew I had to go.

They had two times that they were going to have the festival; 12:00 and 4:00. Forrest had a soccer game at 11 in the morning, so we decided to make it to the 4:00 one. Someone told me that there was a bus that was leaving from the BYU campus every 10 minutes to head up to the Krishna's Temple in Spanish Fork. We thought that would be cheaper and easier than driving up to Spanish Fork and battling the traffic. So we got there about 3:05, right after a bus had left. We ended up waiting with about 60 freshmen for about an hour or so. Forrest was able to entertain himself by watching the Kansas State v Butler game through a window in the Wilkinson Center. I stood in a way so there wasn't a glare through the window. Aren't I so nice?

By the time the bus got there, the numbers of those waiting dwindled. We thought we had the perfect spot to get on the bus, but somehow we ended up being the last people on. I didn't really realize that it was essential to hold onto one of those handle things that busses have for people standing up, so I kind of stumbled around when the bus started moving. But, fortunately, I got the hang of it and we started on the journey to Spanish Fork. We got there around 5:00, right after the big color part ended. It was slightly disappointing, but we had fun walking around. People were still throwing colors, so we got partly colored. This group of girls came up to us and were like "You guys are way too white!" and threw some lovely pink and purple all over us. We stayed there for oh...45 minutes or so, and then we decided it would probably be a good idea to go find the bus so we didn't get stuck there. That's where the real adventure begins. But before that, here are some pictures from the Festival:

So, what happened in Spanish Fork after the festival? Well. We weren't entirely sure where the bus was going to stop, but we decided to follow a big mass of people, assuming that at least one of them would be going to the place where the Provo-bound bus would be at. You know what they say about people who assume (if you don't, I am sorry. My blog is G-rated)? That proved to be true. We walked for awhile, and the masses of people surrounding us started to dwindle. However, this didn't overly phase us. We started joking about how we might have to walk back Provo. I suggested that we could be like the Pioneers, and then Forrest serenaded me (and those around us that were in ear-shot) with a lovely rendition of  that awesome Primary song that goes "Primary children sang as they walked and walked . . . ". There was so much traffic around us, and quite the interesting people. We thought about trying to hitch a ride back with a random car, but that didn't work out. At one point, these random gangsta kids started yelling at us "Get some! Kiss her!" which was just really special/mature. Then some random guy yelled at me, stating that he recognized me from the mosh pit. I definitely didn't notice him; I only have eyes for Forrest (really though, he didn't look familiar at all). Some nice lady gave us some water, because she didn't have change for a 20$ bill. She saved our life (okay, maybe a bit melodramatic).

Anyways, after about 2 miles of walking (I may be overexaggerating, but I don't think I am), the last people around us walked off to their car. Apparently we were the only ones who were without a clue. We were both kind of hungry, and decided we should figure out where a bus was so we could get back to Provo. For some reason, neither of us had our phones (shock. I know. I always have my phone), or watches. So we had no way of contacting anyone or knowing what time it was. Kind of a problem. So we stopped at a little pizza place called "Pier 49", ordered an overly priced pizza, and Forrest checked outside on the bus stop we had found for what time the next bus would come. It said it wouldn't arrive til 10:00, so we had to decide what our best option was. A little while later, the Pizza guy informed us that the bus stop we wanted was actually across the street. So, Forrest went to check, and came back to ask what time it was. It was about 7:30, and we discovered the last bus left at 7:15. Awesome. So we decided to try and call someone. The only numbers I could remember were my mom's cell phone and my home phone. So I tried both, with no avail. Fortunately my mom finally answered, and after she laughed at us for getting stuck in Spanish Fork, she gave me my brother's number. Unfortunately, he was going to work so it would have been hard for him to come (though he would have, had we needed him), so he gave me my brother-in-law, David's, phone number, who was at a movie and couldn't answer. So Forrest called his parents, got a hold of his dad, who gave him his sister's phone number, who graciously came and got us. But it was quite the adventure. We stayed at the Pizza (I have no idea why I keep capitilazing pizza) place for a few hours, and I'm pretty sure they were sick of us by the time we left (especially when we started laying down in the booths). It was fun. We talked about how it was kind of nice to just be completely disconnected from everything, and joked about how we would be stuck there forever and become attic dwellers in the Pizza place (okay. maybe I thought that one up. But I know Forrest thought it sounded exciting). It was one of those stories that I will totally tell the rest of my life, and each time it will get even more exciting. One day, I will be telling my grandchildren about the time I had to walk 50 miles barefoot in the snow, sharing only a half a bottle of water with Forrest, I promise. But let it be known, the real story was here first. Hopefully they won't find it.

I know this post isn't long enough yet, so I will now display a picture montage of our adventure of being stuck in Spanish Fork. Enjoy (Before you enjoy, actually, shout out to Forrest. He puts up with my incessant picture taking. I know he secretly loves it): 

Right before we left the festival. Not the greatest picture, but it marks the beginning of the adventure

This really has nothing to do anything, but I thought it was funny. Someone put up a sign that said "No Praking", so of course, I had to take a picture. Several other people were as well. hehe. 

I distinctly remember telling Forrest I was taking this picture to document our trek back to Provo. Luckily, we didn't have to walk all the way back (though I was thinking we would for awhile there. Which, I would have done with a smiling face). 

So scared that we had no idea where we were going (Okay. maybe he wasn't that scared . . . but it adds drama, yeah?)

So this is kind of creepy that I took a picture of a couple of teenage boys, but, they were the last people that were walking with us. I had to take their picture, I promise.

The pizza. It was delicious. But slightly overpriced. The people were nice there though, and let us use their phone for awhile, and hang out for awhile. I think Forrest has never looked more attractive than in this picture.

Another high quality picture. Forrest calling his padre (That is 'father' for you non-Spanish speakers)

Pretty much just displaying the name of the place we were at. Pier 49. 

This represents Forrest's sister, Doris, who saved us. Not because she looks or smells like Pizza. Quite the contrary, she is awesome. But, we gave her a piece of pizza to thank her for picking us up (even though Forrest picked off half the toppings...cough). 

Forrest decided to fall asleep. I've never seen someone sleep like this, but he totally pulls it off.

After we got home. You can tell, we are exhausted (did I mention I was wearing flip flops, shorts, and a t-shirt. Not the best adventurin outfits).

In the end we were so happy! Yay! What a fun memory that reminiscence on (which we did. Yesterday. the day after it happened).