But first, a little background for you. My relationship with henna started when I lived in Doha, Qatar, a tiny country in the Middle East that sticks out into the Arabian Gulf like a hitchhiker's thumb. I lived there with my parents and sister from the age of thirteen until I was sixteen. While there, attending an international school with a majority of Qatari students, I was exposed to henna mostly at school cultural events. One Christmas, a neighbour of ours brought some over and showed us how to use it. My natural interest in art led me to be intrigued by the improvised form of creativity, and we bought and used henna several more times over our three years there.
In the summer of 2007, a year after having returned from Qatar, I started a booth at the Campbell River farmers market. I made a sign, which my dad got laminated at Staples for me, and I used the cushion set my parents had bought while we lived overseas, which required sitting low to the ground much like in the carpeted and cushioned tents that are traditional in the Middle East. The booth was quite well received and ended up being very successful.
After a couple years of only using henna occasionally for personal use or with friends, I wanted to become a part of the Nanaimo Downtown Farmers Market. In 2010, it didn't work out because of work conflicts, but finally this summer I got everything together and became a drop-in vendor for the 2011 season.
Although I did know a lot of general information about making henna, applying it, and how to care for it, I didn't know very much about the cultural practices of it beyond that it is used most commonly on the hands and feet of women, it is most traditional to improvise floral or plant-inspired designs, and it is very often for wedding ceremonies. This information I gladly share with my customers, and most of them are very enthusiastic about henna and that I choose to apply it in the more traditional way of improvisation. However, the environment of the farmers market itself lends to me seeing customers for under 10 minutes because of how quickly I apply the design, explain how to care for it, and then send them on their way.
After starting to read this book, I'm coming to the realization that this fast-paced form of henna is very much against the entire traditional practice of it. Henna is supposed to be about a woman's growth in the point in her life where she is joining hands with a man and becoming a part of his family. It is also about her journey as a woman, and her exploration of these things through the medium of henna. The author puts it beautifully when she says that "Mehndi is a language. It is not just a beautiful art form. It asks the woman to have a dialogue with the universe, and it provides the words by which to have that dialogue."
The author stresses the importance of time, care, and contemplation. I find that when I apply henna on myself, which I do often as practice and as a means of testing and demonstrating for customers, I find it a good way to take time, slow down, and relax. However, it does sometimes cross over into a state of hurry and stress when I'm preparing for the market last-minute.
As I continue to read through this text, I'm hoping to gain an even more well-rounded understanding of the cultural implications of henna. I hope to be more sensitive to the time-honoured tradition and hopefully share that knowledge with my customers as I continue to learn and grow as an artist.
Henna isn't tattoos. It isn't just about having a nice looking design. Of course, bringing it into the Western culture changes it no matter what. But I think we can still take note of a thing or two from those who have practiced it for centuries: Henna is about taking the time, and taking the journey.
