Ch. 6: Ode to March

As if going to see Rosie Thomas wasn't enough, I got to meet her. AND she and I are both wearing felt hearts! 

RADIOHEAD!!!

At the start of April, I began to realize that leaving March was posing some difficulty. I normally do not have any attachments to months/times/seasons, even my birthday. But March was the best month that I have since I moved out to Atlanta. I love Atlanta; I have loved it since the day I got here. But that does not mean living here has been easy for me. Around February, I realized that I was so desperately craving to be known out here. I have an amazing group of friends out here who have made my transition to The South nothing but enjoyable. But February brought with it some news from back home that left me desiring a hug from someone who knew me—preferably my mom.

The month of March started with a bang. I got tickets to the sold out Radiohead show in Atlanta—my all-time favorite band. I went with three of my friends, and we sang along and danced, danced, danced. We were sitting in what felt like the last possible row, but it was such an amazing show. (Check that one off the bucket list.) In the same music vane, at the end of the month I had the chance to see Rosie Thomas, my favorite artist. Both shows were great, but Rosie Thomas was in a much more intimate space; Brittnye and I were sitting in the first row. March was a spectacular music month for me  :)

ChaharShanbeh Suri bonfire preparation

I had acclimated to my school environment the first week I was here, but acclimation to my church was much harder. Going to a mega-church makes meeting people much harder. But in March, all of that changed. I had one of those right-place-at-the-right-time moments and my friendships have snowballed from there. I now walk into a 2,000-person service, and I know several people. I also joined a small group! So now I have 2 hours a week where I can share the details of my life with like-minded women. I am really excited to see how this develops.

March also brought with it the first day of spring, which in my world, means Persian New Year. Although I did not have time to make my “sofreh haft sin,” and I am sure my roommates would not have appreciated a room of the house being taken up with gold coins, sprouted lentils, vinegar, and apples (a few years ago, my roommates made me cover several of the dishes because the whole house was filled with the smell of vinegar and garlic), I was able to celebrate Chaharshanbeh Suri. I build a large fire in my driveway (Justin, my roommate, made me size it down for safety reasons), and my roommates and I jumped over the fire. For those of you who do not know the significance behind the fire, I have a little summary for you:

Our little tree in the beginning stages of her growth

Chaharshanbeh Suri is translated, the Red Wednesday. It typically revolves around this festival of fire. As tradition states, bon fires are built with the objective on jumping over them. Good health or “ripeness” is supposedly obtained by jumping over the fire. Jumpers are to chant: zardi-ye man az to, sorkhi-ye to az man (My sickly yellow paleness is yours, your fiery red color is mine). This is a rite to cleanse you in preparation of the New Year—to burn off the impurities and sickness, and to get in return warmth and energy. The fires are supposed to burn all night, but we anxiously put ours out when we heard approaching fire trucks.

The three of us jumped over and over and over until we heard the fire trucks, and then we went to bed. And I kid you not, each of us felt refreshed in the morning, like we were waking up to a new season.

Around this same time, Brittnye and I became set on pruning a tree in our front yard. It became incredibly significant in my life regarding the overdue pruning that I had to do. So with dragging feet and much hesitation, I went to town on pruning my own life. Pruning sucks. It stings, it leaves a hole, and sometimes it leaves you feeling isolated. But as if my life was following the example of our beautiful tree, new growth started to occur immediately.   

This was waiting in the guest room
when I got to Todd and Jane's

The last weeks of March, and the New Year also brings with it finals. I had 10 written finals in four days. Usually I would cringe at the memory of a week like that, but this last finals week was the most relaxed and prepared I have ever been for a set of finals. I slept for about 8 hours every night (except the last night), I felt completely at ease sitting down to take each final, and the end result was better than I could have ever expected. I think I am starting to realize that early preparation is the key to crazy weeks like that—it has only taken me 2 and a half years of Grad School to pick up on this.

At the very end of the month, I got what I had wanted back in February. During my Spring Break, I was able to make a trip out to Augusta where my brother, Todd, and his wife live. I was able to spend time with someone who knows me. On my drive back to Atlanta, I was on the phone with a friend, and one of his first questions was, “did you get the hug you needed?” And I had. It was just what I needed.

Oh…and I officially became a Georgia peach (I got my Georgia license). March was a great month!