Vegan Week

"In the strict scientific sense we all feed on death - even vegetarians."
-Mr. Spock, Star Trek, "Wolf in the Fold"

Fig.1 Have you hugged a chicken today?

One sunny Floridian January Saturday, I drove up to Gainesville to hang out with my friend Casey and meet his boyfriend Joseph for the first time. We checked on the community events for the day and unanimously decided to attend the Hoggetown Medieval Festival. Of course, we had to find a place to eat beforehand, since Joseph is vegan and ren faires are not well known to serve up anything more vegan than giant roasted turkey legs. Luckily, it’s as easy to find a vegan-friendly eatery in a college town as it is to find a coffeehouse in a college town. At the fest, while perusing the numerous vendor tents drinking our mead (vegan!) and scoffing at the bevy of overwrought Scottish accents floating into our ears, theology got injected into the conversation. I have no idea how.

“I consider veganism my religion,” he said.

“Really?”

“Lots of people write in their religion as veganism on the census.”

Veganism is a religion? I’m so there.

Fig.2 They also call loved ones "Agave nectar" instead of "Honey"

Thus, Vegan Week was born. Now, I can do Vegetarian Week standing on my head. Since I started doing Buddhism, I’ve been observing Vesak--the holiday that celebrates the birth, enlightenment, and nirvana of Gautama Buddha--by avoiding meat for the week leading up it. Plus, I renounce meat on full and new moons. And I don’t tend to eat meat all that much anyways.

I’m not addicted to meat, is what I’m saying.

But veganism is a lot of work. I spent a few weeks beforehand researching how vegans sidestep and tip-toe around consuming animal products. Mulling over concepts like incorporating organic alfalfa sprouts, fermented soy tofu, and textured vegetable protein to meals, I paused the way people do when they know they’ve just stepped in dogshit and don’t want to move for fear of hearing that aromatic moist sucking sound you get when you lift your sneaker. But when I picked up my foot and started walking again, collecting recipes that sounded exotic and tasty, I found there was no unpleasant odor clinging to my sole.

Sure, I couldn’t eat anything from the box of Godiva chocolates I had just gotten for Valentine’s Day or sprinkle grated Parmesan cheese on my beloved Italian dishes or dump a little whole milk in my chai tea every morning, but I was going to survive. If it’s good enough for Emily Deschanel (girlcrush!), then it’s good enough for me.

I’m addicted to dairy products, I guess is what I’m saying.

Fig.3 I count broccoli myself

My sister volunteered to take the vegan plunge along with me, so, armed with a list and some recipes, we went to Publix and the Green Bean organic market to gather supplies. We surprised ourselves at how quickly the flip-the-box-to-parse-the-ingredients-list obligation instilled itself into everyday life. I would zero in on the tiny type and wag my finger at any evidence that animals sacrificed their lives or comforts in the making of that product. Whey? Exploits milk cows. Egg whites? Exploits chickens. Honey? Exploits bees. Non-dairy creamer powder? Contains milk derivatives. “Non-dairy” my ass.

We got soy yogurt and soy milk, which we’ve had before and generally enjoy. We made sure to avoid butter and only use olive oil or corn oil for cooking (again, not a big issue). We’re already big fans of nearly every variety of beans (fava, by the way, look and taste like cockroaches, FYI), so we made hummus to use as a sandwich spread for lunches. We also picked up some things we had to learn to prepare, like tofu, bean sprouts, seitan and tempeh.

We had Portobello mushroom Parmesan on spaghetti with crunchy fried tempeh instead of meat crumbles. I made veggie burritos, tofu-cashew curry, and even discovered that vegan brownies taste even more chocolatey than regular ones. Tofutti ice cream, though, is a sad excuse for dessert, sorry to say. And Joseph warned me against “vegan cheese” which not even he would touch. In the end, we survived just fine. It was a challenge, but we came out of it better for doing it, and we learned some new favorite recipes (vegan waffles ROCK) that we’d happily eat outside of Vegan Week.

When our little experiment concluded, I decided that I could never deny my inherent foodie sensibility and significantly limit my intake of the myriad dishes this world has to offer my widely varied palate, but I am apt to expand my meatless options and explore the tastes of vegan cooking. It's always fun to try new recipes, and it's just plain good karma.

Fig.4 Contrary to popular myth, vegan food does not taste like this

One of Joseph’s favorite Simpsons episodes, appropriately enough, is “Lisa the Vegetarian,” in which Lisa realizes that the only difference between the lamb at the petting zoo and the lamb chop for dinner is that one spent two hours in the broiler. Her refusal to dissect an earthworm and inquiries into school lunch policies triggers Principal Skinner into screening an educational video from the Meat Council for the class. Troy McClure gives a little boy a tour of the beef industry, showing off the high-density feedlots and the killing floor of a slaughterhouse, leaving the little boy trembling and emotionally disturbed. When the video is over, the class is treated to a pile of tripe to snack on.

In all my life, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more masterful evisceration of the beef industry, much less satirized in a wildly popular television show. Read Fast Food Nation or watch Food Inc., and you’ll admit that The Simpsons didn’t exaggerate at all.

At one point in the Meat Council video Lisa is force-fed, Troy McClure displays a chart of the food chain. The image is a drawing of a few dozen wild animals, all with arrows pointing straight at the human drawn in the center, proving that eating meat is totally normal and just part of the natural order of things. And if we're totally honest with ourselves, you have to agree with Mr. Spock on this. Things have to die so we can survive.

This is not propaganda. Humans are omnivores and have evolved to eat both flora and fauna. Our cranial capacity developed as a result of hunting animals, which takes a lot more brain power than picking berries. If our ancestors didn’t eat meat, we wouldn’t be half as smart as we are today. Smart enough, in fact, to make choices about what we cram in our mouths. Vegan Week taught me my own gustatory boundaries and how to explore them, and while I may not be cut out for a completely animal-free diet, I am certainly more aware of how to be educated and judicious about what I consume.

Awareness is what distinguishes an enlightened mind. Christians are working to be aware of Jesus’ love. Muslims practice to be aware of the will of God. Jews believe it’s a duty to be aware of God’s presence. Hindus are occupied with being aware of the divine within each person. Vegans try their best to be aware of our connection to all living things and choose to treat them with the same respect we give to our human race.

That's as good a religion as any.


Fig.5 I agree

Everyday Hinduism, or How to order bindis from India

"In memories of her beloved, life is restless with longing.
He's in the bindi on my forehead.
He's in the sleepiness of my lashes."
-from the song "Dola Re Dola," Devdas


Fig.1 Oooooh shiny

'Twas a hot summer day in 2006 when my best friend Connie and I went to Islands of Adventure in Orlando. As is typical whenever we go to theme parks together, we were feeling adventurous and decided to work up the courage to hit the rollercoasters. Having grown up in central Florida, we had our share of hours on various thrill rides at Busch Gardens, Sea World, Disney, EPCOT, Animal Kingdom, and Universal Studios, but had never really taken advantage of the superior rides at IOA. Once we survived (and loved!) the Dueling Dragons, we were gung-ho for The Hulk and actually returned to the Dragons for a second time.

Somewhere in there, though, we stopped in at one of the Lost Civilization Island’s fantasy bazaar (now refurbished into Harry Potter World, or whatever), where all the shops are made up to look like they were lifted straight from Aladdin. Of course, I found the tent hawking the overpriced bellydancing supplies and fawned over the jingly belts and earrings and costumes I would never buy outside of a Renaissance Faire (much better deals). But I did pick up a small packet of multicolored bindis and promptly shared them with Connie. I wore a pink one and she wore blue, to coordinate with our t-shirt colors. We felt extra pretty walking around all day with our foreheads so adorned, but little did I know this one impulse purchase would lead to a new personal fashion habit that continues to this day.

Fig.2 Bollywood Babe Wannabe sighting in Key West

A few weeks later, I brought the same set of bindis with me on a week-long family trip to Key West. Key West, being Key West, is the provenance of all things kitsch and casual in my beloved state of Florida. Art shops, pirate jewelry sellers, pizza parlours, creperies, Margaritaville, Sloppy Joe’s, the Hog’s Breath Saloon—all bathed in the colors of the setting sun and neon signs. Almost everything we ate was seafood or was impregnated with key lime the same way everything on Dune is impregnated with Spice. It’s warm and inviting, but small and colorful and comforting, and you get the feeling that after dark, anything goes on Duval Street. There are kitschy restaurant bars every 50 feet, trinket shops in between, and streetside kiosks offering henna tattoos. It was just the kind of place I could wear my bindis, buy a sari (which I did), and walk around wearing both without feeling out of place.

When I got home, the bindis stuck, but I soon realized that they have an expiration date. The glue doesn’t hold out for long, and they get cruddy after a few weeks of constant use.

Fig.3 That's a SERIOUS Bindi

"Bindi" means “dot” in Sanskrit. Originally, they signified age, marriage, and/or religious affiliation, depending on who was wearing one (yes, even men wear the mark of sindoor on holy occasions). Traditional ones were simply crimson or yellow vermillion powder applied to the forehead during temple ceremonies or everyday home shrine puja offerings. The placement is meant to represent the ajna chakra, known as the center of insight and wisdom. The color red also represents the femenine power of the goddesses Sati and Parvati, and women who wear this tilak ("mark") will receive their blessings.

After years of watching Hindi movies (I promise a post on that soon!), I had seen every shape and size of bindi worn by hot Bollywood actresses, and it was just a matter of time before I decided that I wanted a piece of that action. Sometimes they wore them, sometimes they didn’t, and sometimes they wore big gaudy ones for special occasions.


Fig.4 Aishvarya Rai pimpin' her bindi in the movie Devdas

South Asian women in modern times treat the bindi as any other piece of jewelry or fashion accessory, no matter what their social status or association. As a result, they now come in an eye-popping array of styles, as I soon discovered when I went online to search for an internet site that sold them. Bindis come in every color to match your outfit and every size and shape to suit your occasion. They come plain or encrusted with crystals, pearls, and metallic accents.

The first site I ordered from sent me a small slightly battered package a few weeks later. It was a box wrapped in white cloth, sewed up with thread, my address was written in blue marker on the top, and it was slapped with a customs declaration certificate from Vastrapur Ahmedabad, India. It certainly looked like it had come from halfway around the world. Pretty wild, right?


Fig.5 We're not in Delhi anymore, Toto

I have since tried other sites as well, and one, Visionsofindia.com, hails from California, so my packages come much more quickly. Now, I’ll purchase between eight and ten new little packets of bindis every three months or so, so I get to try new styles all the time. I wear them everyday, every time I go out. It’s as obligatory as earrings or a necklace and I feel naked if I forget to put one on. The websites sell skin-safe bindi glue, but I’ve found that eyelash glue works very well, too. I have quite a collection, and I use the old ones to fancify picture frames or bedazzle some other craft I may be creating.
I’ve been lucky that my employer has no objection to my little quirk. Sometimes I think that they think it’s a strictly religious thing, and what with all the Islamic hijab-related school uniform debates in the news, they don’t want to be sued for discrimination. They don’t care about my tiny gold nose stud either, which is even more innocuous than the bindis, but complements my overall recherché Indian fashion so well that neither register as especially unusual.

Early on, my good friends got used to it immediately, calling it “such a Caity thing.” Given that they’ve witnessed my long history of hair and jewelry-related personal fashion kicks through the years, bindi-wearing was an organic development.


Fig.6 Another trademark "Caity Thing"

The most frequent inquiry from co-workers or random people standing in line at the cash register is about whether or not it’s a piercing, and I have to explain that it’s really just a snazzy sticker. I also get asked whether it “means something,” and I say that for me, it’s just something pretty, and what girl doesn’t like a little something extra sparkly to wear? I also clarify the ancient versus modern interpretation of its significance, and I feel happy that I’ve injected a bit of world culture into someone’s day.

When I’m out in places full of people who don’t work with me everyday and are incidentally immune to the oddity of bindis, I get glances and outright stares, especially from little kids who point tug at their mother’s shirt and poke at their own foreheads to communicate their absolute amazement at my facial adornment. I’ve even gotten a few bright elementary school children who correctly identify it as an “Indian” thing. They love it, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see them start running around with Dora The Explorer stick-on earrings worn on their ajna chakras.

At the end of the day, I remind myself that the Buddha wore bindis, and protecting the wisdom chakra with a bindi never hurts. The last thing I do after getting ready for the day is choose a bindi to wear, and in that way, what began as a fashion statement has evolved into religious ritual for me. The bindi does mean something to me. It’s a constant expression of my faith in beauty, wisdom, and individuality. With that definition behind the bindi, I don’t foresee my ever growing tired of it.

Fig.7 A girl has so many choices...

Proud To Be Pagan

“This religion is not a joke. We are not what you think we are from looking at TV. 
We are real. We laugh, we cry. We are serious. We have a sense of humor.
 You don't have to be afraid of us. We don't want to convert you. And please don't try to convert us. 
Just give us the same right we give you—to live in peace.
 We are much more similar to you than you think.”
--Margot Adler

Fig.1 Scared yet?

Everything I ever needed to re-learn about witches I learned from Hollywood AND the people denouncing Hollywood. How many dozens of depictions of witches and witchcraft have I seen in movies and TV? About a hundred dozen more negative ones than positive (or even remotely true) ones. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been bombarded with images and portrayals of evil witches in Disney movies, ugly witches in horror movies, bitchy witches, crazy witches, nasty witches, hungry witches who eat little children, and stupid witches in cartoons. They’re always female, they’re always plotting against the hero, they’re always wild and extreme. A “good witch” was an anomaly, not the norm.

I know America doesn’t like to be accused of flatly discriminating against a religious group by disseminating profoundly unverified and monolithic propaganda in pop culture, but it sure as hell is guilty of it when it comes to paganism. I know why: “unbelievers” have long been held up as the “dark opposing force” of Christianity throughout history. Ancient indigenous pagan peoples in Europe were relatively disorganized compared to the rising Christian population and conquest was a two-fold strategy: seize the land and convert the people. So it went for hundreds of years.

America today is by no means the homogenous “Christian Nation” many people insist upon, but its cultural influences are dominated by Christian views. Naturally, pejorative definitions of anything pagan are to be expected, and are usually informed by casual ignorance rather than outright hatred. The fear of pagans and paganism isn’t fear of evil so much as it is the fear of the unknown, and there is plenty that people don’t know about pagans, and plenty of pagan things that people engage in but don’t even know it.

That’s why I was especially keyed up to study pagan traditions. I knew that watching Harry Potter movies and Supernatural on CW wasn’t quite enough.


Fig.2 I'm here for the sexiness, not accurate portrayals of witchcraft

Broadly defined, the archaic use of the term “paganism” includes anything outside the Abrahamic-based faiths, which is pretty damned broad. Hinduism, Zoroastrianism, Jainism, Shamanism, Taoism, Native American religions, Wicca, Vodou, various world folk religions and Buddhism fall under that category. Basically, anything that doesn’t involve Moses or Jesus or Mohammad is pagan. That’s some group!

Obviously, this is the strict Western perspective. The modern definition accepted in a comparative religions course would be any earth-based religion that may or may not include shamanistic, animistic, pantheistic or polytheistic aspects. That eliminates much of the major “world” religions previously included in the list. But it includes ancient “dead” religions such as those that worshiped the Greek, Norse, Roman and Egyptian gods. The rule of thumb, so far as I can tell, is that what we may consider pagan is any religion that does not include adherence to a precise dogma or a specific scripture. There can be oral traditions and stories, or general guidelines as to the meanings behind practices, but there is no organized collection of progenitorial texts proposing to be the “word of God” or divinely inspired by a deity.

When I think of paganism, I have a whole set of images and concepts defined mostly by American Neopagans (specifically, Wiccans), because they’re the ones making all the awesome podcasts and websites. Wicca, while relatively new on the scene (it gained popularity only within the last century), has its roots in ancient pagan belief systems, drawing spiritual figures and ideas from all manner of sources.

Neopagan-based moral beliefs work on an honor system. Because they don’t have any official scriptures to read and get irrationally adamant about, they function by the Golden Rule or the “Wiccan Rede” which basically says, “If it does no harm, do your will.” Therefore, anybody conducting “black magic” or evil hoodoo should know that they’re in for a world of hurt.

Fig.3 A helpful diagram for your altar planning

Wiccan practice is definitely a far cry from anything I see on Supernatural. As much as I adore that show (that’s a whole other blog post for later), I know that the only thing they get right is that paganism exists.

A ritual (which may include spell-casting and meditation) is rich with symbolism, employing elements and objects that may evoke fear in some people: fire, a knife, potions, a wand, etc. But each one is represented on an altar for a reason. A candle flame banishes darkness and can be different colors according to the god or goddess the practitioner chooses. The blade (athame) is double-sided and represents the fusion of male and female. It's not necessarily sharp and it's even understood that if the athame is ever used to draw blood, it must be destroyed. The chalice filled with wine is the female womb, a live-giving symbol. The wand is used to focus energy during a ritual. That broom in the corner is not for riding, but for sweeping clean the circle in which a ritual is to take place. The pentagram contains five points for each of the basic elements: fire, earth, air, water, spirit.

Neopagans worship the Earth, the god and the goddess, respect nature and the spirit within all living things. They value life and freedom and expression. They’re all around us, too.

I wanted to post this entry now because it’s Renaissance Faire season here where I live in old snow-free Florida. I’ve been to the Hoggetowne Medieval fest already, which I’ve gone to for three years in a row with my Gainesville friends. I’m preparing to attend the big Tampa Bay Renaissance Festival in March like I do every year as well. It’s a family tradition at this point, and a deliriously enjoyable one as well.

Fig.4 Fairies keep it in the family

It’s a place where regular Joes mingle amongst everyday regular Joe Pagans without any fear whatsoever on either side. This is not to say that all Wiccans or pagans love Ren Faires or that the people who work there are representative of all pagans. That would be like saying ALL sci-fi nerds love Star Trek and dress up like Spock for sci-fi conventions. That is simply untrue and will probably get you mildly tongue-lashed if said within a ten-foot radius of a comic book store. Not by me, though, I love Star Trek (again, I'll save that for another post).

Based on the wares presented in many of the festival tents and booths--mugs & bowls painted with the names of sabbats, pentacle jewelry, cauldrons, chalices, even witches' hats (they have a sense of humor)--it’s pretty obvious that most the tenants are at least very familiar with pagan culture if they’re not pagan themselves. The art, jewelry, costumes, books, and various appurtenances of Neopagan and earth-based religions are ubiquitous… and completely inoffensive to the festival guests. Sure, they may find some of it fantastical and wild and odd, but it’s expected and generally accepted. The tradesmen themselves are as "out of the broom closet" as they can get at these gatherings, often dressed to the Medieval nines and more than happy to explain the significance of their trinkets.

It’s a breath of fresh (hay, pony, incense, and roasted turkey-leg infused) air.

As a backyard astronomer, I follow closely the movements of the moon and planets and stars. I love gardening and growing special herbs for my meals and teas. I love animals and especially birds for their beauty and idiosyncrasies. I love to meditate outdoors in the open air of nature, under the warmth of the sun. It's not difficult for me to understand many Pagan interests and beliefs. It’s not a stretch for me to recognize the sacred wisdom they seek in their practice. It may seem a stretch for others, and I understand that too. But if you've ever admired the stars, planted a flower, thanked God or the Universe for a beautiful day, or even celebrated Easter (bunnies and eggs are ancient pagan fertility symbols and "Eastre" is the goddess of the Spring), you know more about true paganism than you realize.

See you at the Faire! Blessed be!