Amritsar (7/14/12-7/17/12)
Having explored Hinduism and Jainism is Dehradun and Varanasi, Buddhism in Bodhgaya, Islam and Sufism in Agra, I was now headed to Amritsar, Punjab, to make the major pilgrimage for Sikhism at the Golden Temple.
Punjab is the only state in the world whose people are pedominantly Sikh. Throughout history, the Sikh community has been very affluent and successful-- even after the brutal ruling and tortures inflicted on them by the Mughal empire. Thus, there was a huge contrast between the culture of Punjab vs. the other states I had been to (Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and Haryana). In Punjab, people are generally taller and have much more girth, and there is not as nearly as much begging. These are all a result of having the resources to eat properly and to properly take care of oneself; in the other cities I have been, massive starvation is a huge problem.
We arrived at Amritsar quite late in the evening after an entire day spent on the train. When we arrived to our guest house at 2 AM, we were greeted by several SIkhs who were very excited to share their tradition and culture with us. Even at 2 AM they were headed to the gurdwara to take a ritual bath. As tempting as that was, we were exhausted from our long travels and just wanted some rest.
The next morning, we went to the Golden Temple (Harmandir Sahib). We took our shoes off outside-- as is tradition-- and put them in a pile with others' shoes. The Golden Temple is one of the most beautiful temples I have ever seen, surrounded on three of its sides by a large body of water where people take a ritual bath. The temple has been standing for about 500 years, around the time Guru Nanak founded the Sikh religion; the Sikh religion is relatively young.
There was a 4-hour queue waiting to get inside the actual temple; thus, I walked around the perimeter of the temple and the body of water and just observed. Matt and I were greeted with endless hospitality by many people. People wanted to come up to us just to say hello, shake our hands, ask our names, or "have one snap" (photograph) with us. Nobody had an ulterior motive. Nobody asked us for money. How refreshing!
After observing the temple and Sikh rituals, listening to the live Punjabi music and exploring the Sikh museum, the sun was beginning to take a toll on me. Fighting the feeling of faint, we went to go get some food. First, we went to collect our shoes at the gate where we had left them. To my surprise, my shoes were no longer there. They had been stolen.
I was standing on the hot cement-- feet burning-- thinking, "Well, what do I do now?" I had to laugh because there is literally nothing else that can be done in that situation; where do you beging to search for your lost shoes in a foreign country? Besides, every time you lose something it is a good opportunity to exercise and practice not caring. I was just grateful that the Sikhs at the main entrance to the temple had given me a replacement pair of shoes that fit. They friendly laughed at me, and I took notice of the sign which read, "Do not leave your soes here." So it goes. I hope whoever is wearing "my" old shoes is very comfortable.
When Matt and I went back to the guest house, we were surprised to see our French friends who we had met on our first pilgrimage in Varanasi. What a coincidence we had all reconvened at the same guest house weeks later in Amritsar. That evening, we four took a shared jeep to the Indian-Pakistani border, where they hold a ceremony each night of the changing of the guard. Again, we fit more humans into the jeep than one would ever dare to in the West; Matt and I both had to squeeze up front with the driver, the gear stick placed conveniently between Matt's legs. He had literally become a part of the driving mechanism. I think I prefer not sitting up front and being able to see everything that happens on the road, as each time you get on the Indian roads it feels like 7 years are being taken from your life. "Oh, here we are on the other side of the road. There is a bus driving directly towards us." And then swerve away just in the knick of time. There is a method to the madness, I am sure. I don't quite get it, though.
We reached the border where Punjab meets Pakistan. Outside the security checkpoint before you enter the ceremony, vendors are selling popcorn, fried corn on the cob, burgers, etc. It feels like a sports event, and in many ways it is; after you walk through the two security checkpoints and approach the actual gate that separates India from Pakistan, there is stadium seating in bleachers. Foreigners are even given "VIP" seating.
The ceremony itself is the most comedic event imagineable. On the India side of the gate hundreds of people are cheering "Hindustan! Hindustan!" Many are waving the Indian flag. Some are parading with the flag to the border. On the Pakistan side, people are cheering, "Pakistan! Pakistan!" while also waving their respective flag. There are no "VIP" foreigners on their side, though.
India's side was definitely more animated and had more "fans." They were chanting loudly until Pakistan turned on music through their speaker system. Then, India turned on their music. Seconds later, Pakistan turned up their music louder. India combatted that by turning up their music even louder. It was comical.
When the actual ceremony started, the process of changing the guard was long and drawn out, as is everything in India. Each side cheered for their respective country. The guards from each country-- men and women dressed in uniform with guns-- paraded to the border and did what can only be properly described as a dance-off. The whole ceremony with its music, dancing, cheering, rituals and the fact that it is held every single night of the year makes it difficult to imagine there being a way between Pakistan and India. Who'da thunk? At the end, they even shake hands.
That night, and what would be our last night in Amritsar, we returned to the Golden Temple to participate in the langar; the free community meal that is held 24 hours a day. There is no caste system within the Sikh religion, and it is their philosophy that everybody is one, everybody is equal. Thus, for 24 hours a day every single day of the year, they have a kitchen where people from all religious, financial, ethnic backgrounds can come to share a free meal together. Anyone is also welcome to sleep at the temple; they provide beds and floorspace for anyone who wishes to sleep there or who has no place to call home.
The entire temple itself and its premises are up-kept by Sikh volunteers. Each day they clean the entire temple and surroundings, which helped add to the overall experience of the place. It is magical to see a community of people coming together because it matters to them.
The Sikh philosophy and community is very beautiful. Under the premise that we are all one, we are all created equal, and every one of our religions is attempting to reach the same destination, the community is entirely non-exlusive. They hit the nail directly on the head: ethnicity, financial status, caste, religion are all irrelevant in terms of life matters.
As the Sikh poem goes, "If your eye does catch 'pon a difference in style, just look to your heart, see the one, and you'll smile."
Having explored Hinduism and Jainism is Dehradun and Varanasi, Buddhism in Bodhgaya, Islam and Sufism in Agra, I was now headed to Amritsar, Punjab, to make the major pilgrimage for Sikhism at the Golden Temple.
Punjab is the only state in the world whose people are pedominantly Sikh. Throughout history, the Sikh community has been very affluent and successful-- even after the brutal ruling and tortures inflicted on them by the Mughal empire. Thus, there was a huge contrast between the culture of Punjab vs. the other states I had been to (Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and Haryana). In Punjab, people are generally taller and have much more girth, and there is not as nearly as much begging. These are all a result of having the resources to eat properly and to properly take care of oneself; in the other cities I have been, massive starvation is a huge problem.
We arrived at Amritsar quite late in the evening after an entire day spent on the train. When we arrived to our guest house at 2 AM, we were greeted by several SIkhs who were very excited to share their tradition and culture with us. Even at 2 AM they were headed to the gurdwara to take a ritual bath. As tempting as that was, we were exhausted from our long travels and just wanted some rest.
The next morning, we went to the Golden Temple (Harmandir Sahib). We took our shoes off outside-- as is tradition-- and put them in a pile with others' shoes. The Golden Temple is one of the most beautiful temples I have ever seen, surrounded on three of its sides by a large body of water where people take a ritual bath. The temple has been standing for about 500 years, around the time Guru Nanak founded the Sikh religion; the Sikh religion is relatively young.
There was a 4-hour queue waiting to get inside the actual temple; thus, I walked around the perimeter of the temple and the body of water and just observed. Matt and I were greeted with endless hospitality by many people. People wanted to come up to us just to say hello, shake our hands, ask our names, or "have one snap" (photograph) with us. Nobody had an ulterior motive. Nobody asked us for money. How refreshing!
After observing the temple and Sikh rituals, listening to the live Punjabi music and exploring the Sikh museum, the sun was beginning to take a toll on me. Fighting the feeling of faint, we went to go get some food. First, we went to collect our shoes at the gate where we had left them. To my surprise, my shoes were no longer there. They had been stolen.
I was standing on the hot cement-- feet burning-- thinking, "Well, what do I do now?" I had to laugh because there is literally nothing else that can be done in that situation; where do you beging to search for your lost shoes in a foreign country? Besides, every time you lose something it is a good opportunity to exercise and practice not caring. I was just grateful that the Sikhs at the main entrance to the temple had given me a replacement pair of shoes that fit. They friendly laughed at me, and I took notice of the sign which read, "Do not leave your soes here." So it goes. I hope whoever is wearing "my" old shoes is very comfortable.
When Matt and I went back to the guest house, we were surprised to see our French friends who we had met on our first pilgrimage in Varanasi. What a coincidence we had all reconvened at the same guest house weeks later in Amritsar. That evening, we four took a shared jeep to the Indian-Pakistani border, where they hold a ceremony each night of the changing of the guard. Again, we fit more humans into the jeep than one would ever dare to in the West; Matt and I both had to squeeze up front with the driver, the gear stick placed conveniently between Matt's legs. He had literally become a part of the driving mechanism. I think I prefer not sitting up front and being able to see everything that happens on the road, as each time you get on the Indian roads it feels like 7 years are being taken from your life. "Oh, here we are on the other side of the road. There is a bus driving directly towards us." And then swerve away just in the knick of time. There is a method to the madness, I am sure. I don't quite get it, though.
We reached the border where Punjab meets Pakistan. Outside the security checkpoint before you enter the ceremony, vendors are selling popcorn, fried corn on the cob, burgers, etc. It feels like a sports event, and in many ways it is; after you walk through the two security checkpoints and approach the actual gate that separates India from Pakistan, there is stadium seating in bleachers. Foreigners are even given "VIP" seating.
The ceremony itself is the most comedic event imagineable. On the India side of the gate hundreds of people are cheering "Hindustan! Hindustan!" Many are waving the Indian flag. Some are parading with the flag to the border. On the Pakistan side, people are cheering, "Pakistan! Pakistan!" while also waving their respective flag. There are no "VIP" foreigners on their side, though.
India's side was definitely more animated and had more "fans." They were chanting loudly until Pakistan turned on music through their speaker system. Then, India turned on their music. Seconds later, Pakistan turned up their music louder. India combatted that by turning up their music even louder. It was comical.
When the actual ceremony started, the process of changing the guard was long and drawn out, as is everything in India. Each side cheered for their respective country. The guards from each country-- men and women dressed in uniform with guns-- paraded to the border and did what can only be properly described as a dance-off. The whole ceremony with its music, dancing, cheering, rituals and the fact that it is held every single night of the year makes it difficult to imagine there being a way between Pakistan and India. Who'da thunk? At the end, they even shake hands.
That night, and what would be our last night in Amritsar, we returned to the Golden Temple to participate in the langar; the free community meal that is held 24 hours a day. There is no caste system within the Sikh religion, and it is their philosophy that everybody is one, everybody is equal. Thus, for 24 hours a day every single day of the year, they have a kitchen where people from all religious, financial, ethnic backgrounds can come to share a free meal together. Anyone is also welcome to sleep at the temple; they provide beds and floorspace for anyone who wishes to sleep there or who has no place to call home.
The entire temple itself and its premises are up-kept by Sikh volunteers. Each day they clean the entire temple and surroundings, which helped add to the overall experience of the place. It is magical to see a community of people coming together because it matters to them.
The Sikh philosophy and community is very beautiful. Under the premise that we are all one, we are all created equal, and every one of our religions is attempting to reach the same destination, the community is entirely non-exlusive. They hit the nail directly on the head: ethnicity, financial status, caste, religion are all irrelevant in terms of life matters.
As the Sikh poem goes, "If your eye does catch 'pon a difference in style, just look to your heart, see the one, and you'll smile."
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