I’ve always dreamed of being in India for Holi. In my mind, I imagined I’d be in the thick of it with a camera, colored powder raining down on all of us, snapping away as the technicolor snow swirled through the light.

Because, when you Instagram-stalk professional photographs of this annual festival of colors, that’s what you see. What you don’t see is the water balloons or that many people are slathered in oil to keep the colors from sticking. What you don’t see is the dust and the teeming, crowded streets, filled with so many drunk people by noon.

What I didn’t consider is the hesitation that would happen upon arrival, gazing down at my Nikon. I stood in the hotel lobby, thinking about how I feel about my camera. It’s going to sound so stupid, but my connection to it feels the way I’d imagine the connection to an instrument does. You spend enough time with something alone, traversing the world, and it begins to be a best friend of sorts.

Putting my camera in danger––whether that be from water or buckets of colored powder or just totally wasted strangers––didn’t feel right. Especially given that my images would be a few among millions already posted on the Internet.

We decided to hire a cab driver from our hotel. He was a gentleman and happily wove us through the streets of the Defense Colony neighborhood, searching for clusters of mid-day revelers. He drove us close enough to roll down the windows to get the shots. Then, like splatter-painted zombies, they’d see us and come running at the car, hurling balloons and wielding spray-paint cannisters filled with bright powder. We’d scramble to get the windows rolled up just in time.

Occasionally we missed it by a second or two. My Nikon was tinged yellow within an hour. I had it in my hair and all down my shirt. I had to gently blow it off, because wiping creates a staining smear.

His poor taxi was covered outside and starting to look mighty festive on the inside as well. Like I said … a true gentleman.

Once we got a few shots, we became more worried about missing the fun. We threw our cameras in our backpacks and hopped out. Some guys ran over and placed a smear of bright purple on my forehead. Then, laughing, his friends dumped handfuls down the sides of my face and neck. Our method for Holi really turned out to be the best of both worlds. Given the chance to do it again next year, I’d take the same approach. If you want to properly cover a camera, though, there is some advice on it here.

A little background on Holi …

Holi is an annual spring festival, celebrated throughout India. It’s particularly devoted to the god Krishna. At the root, it’s about good triumphing over evil. There’s a whole religious backstory that I won’t get into here, but it’s usually celebrated with family and involves both intimate parties, meals and gatherings over the span of a week. The most colorful day is Dhulandi––the second day––which is when you’ll find use of Gulal. Gulal is the bright, powdered dust that comes in a range of intense colors. It was formerly all-natural, made from plants and flowers like the Flame Tree and Hibiscus. Sadly, now it’s largely synthetic and shipped in from China. In a few recent years, people have have actually gotten sick from bad batches. Depending on the type thrown at you, it can also stain your skin and hair for up to several days (I also heard weeks) and will definitely ruin your clothes. The government in India is now urging citizens to go back to the original plant-based powders for all of these reasons.

The colors are a visual riot and each has a meaning. Red symbolizes fertility. Green, new beginnings. After 10 minutes outside, you’ll be covered in every shade imaginable. It’s all in the name of what Holi really promotes––merry, beautiful abandon and the joy of good triumphing over evil. We could use a little Holi across the world, these days. I’m so thankful I got to go.

If you want to be absolutely sure you won’t be a walking rendition of crayon box, you can cover your skin and hair in oil. If you want to save your camera, you can hire a taxi driver to safely get your images.

My advice? Put away all the electronics after you’re done and just go with the flow. You surely can’t be dinosaur-green forever, right?