Holy Days

There is only one good reason to go to Amritsar and that is to bask in the glory of the Golden Temple--as sacred to the Sikhs as the Vatican is the Catholics. Sikhism was a reactionary religion stemming particularly from a distaste for the caste system that was propagated by most Hindus at the time. Sikhs accept people without regard to breed or faith (even Hindus are more than welcome visit their places of worship). In keeping with their principles of equality and openness, the Golden Temple provides accommodation for visitors free of charge. The foreigners' quarters is directly across from the entrance to the temple and here, beds are lined up one next to the other with no space between--I was given one of these on arrival. This dorm was an easy place to meet people quickly and that evening a few of us went to the Pakistani border to watch the hoopla surrounding the gate closing ceremony that takes place every evening. It was quite a spectacle of national pride. Indians and Pakistanis turn out in throngs to out-cheer each other as the guards form either side march dramatically towards one another with extra stern faces. It was a fun outing but paled in comparison to all the temple had to offer. It's amenities included super duper cheap tea/coffee and snack stands and a museum depicting horribly gory and massacre and execution scenes from battle fought in defence of Sikhism--but even the images of decapitated heads were a side show.

Just before the temple gates the Guru-Ka-Langar, the temple's community dining center some 40,000 people every day. All are welcome to sit crossed legged on the floor of the large halls and gobble up chapati, dahl and sweet rice pudding. Eating there is completely free and the halls are open and crowded 24 hours every day. It's run on a volunteer and donation base only; the volunteers busily attend to their tasks--they do anything and everything from peeling and chopping onions to washing dishes. Sitting on the floor sharing a meal with others from all walks of life symbolizes acceptance and equality, plus the Sikhs don't want anyone to visit the temple hungry or desperate. Meals are served at warp speed--to my knowledge nothing else in all of India runs with such efficiency. Within 10 minutes the dining hall is filled with 15-20 rows of 50 or so people each. 15 minutes later, everyone has been served, eaten and is filing out while volunteers wash the floors (there's even a mini zamboni to help with this job) in anticipation of the next crowd. When I arrived on Sunday afternoon the dining hall was so busy, both the upstairs and downstairs halls were filling so quickly, they had us sit in rows in the hallway and served us there. In addition to its dining hall and dorms, the temple complex's marble walkways serve as a dust free bed for hundreds of homeless every night.

The Golden Temple itself sits gleaming in the middle of a square pool ringed by wide white marble paths, walls and clock-towers. When I first entered through one of the four archways, I was struck by the multitude of brightly colored saris glistening in the sun and sprinkling the white background like confetti. The temple is almost to bright to look at in the midday light which bounces off it's intricately decorated walls and highlights it's reflection in the water. I was not alone in taking a seat at the edge of the walkway to watch the crowds--some bathing, others sleeping or tending to their children--,to soak up the atmosphere and to enjoy the chanting that fills the air with its vibrations.

There is an Amritsar outside the temple walls but my experience of it was limited and pretty ghastly. All I'd wanted was to mail my absentee voting forms and visit Jallianwala Park where the famous massacre of peaceful protesters took place under the command of General Dyer
(British). (This is depicted in the film Gandhi; the well is still there and the bullet marks from the assault can be seen scarring the walls.) Both post office and park were right close (SO CLOSE) to the temple but due to some really horrendous directions I ended up waling all over the city for hours just to get to the post office (eventually asking around got me to one way far away) and back. Trying to get from a to b lead me down some the most revolting streets I've walked. I choked on the smell of raw meat festering in the sun covered in flies, dodged the open sewers and skirted around diseased and emaciated farm animals left and right. By the time I made it back, I was angry and dirty, and infinitely glad to hide out in the clean peaceful haven of the temple, and I appreciated its shelter 10 fold. (But hey at least I got to cast my vote!) I gazed at the temple a bit more and pretty soon, I was on the overnight train to Haridwar.

I had a mediocre 1/2 night's sleep on the upper most tier of three...I guess you could call them padded shelves... and woke up early with the bustle of the day beginning around and below me. Vendors come traipsing through the train cars all the time and soon, the one I wanted came by; I heard him before I could see him. "Chaiyachaiyachaiyachaiya chaaaaaaaiiiiiiii!" 5 rupees later I was sipping happily on my sweet milky tea. Before I knew it, the train arrived in Haridwar, I stored my luggage for the day (harder to do than you might think) grabbed some food and got on with it. I ended up meeting some Argentinian guys , Pedro and Catrien, at the first temple I went to (Mansa Devi). They were loads of fun and we went around together for the rest of the day.

The highlights were these-- Chandi Devi Temple where a man sitting at the small shrine near the exit asked me the typical questions-- 'Which country? (USA) Your good name? (Julia) First time India? (Yes, yes first time, I head wobbled to help him understand.) Married? (No.)' He tied a red string around my right wrist bowed my head with one hand, slapped me on the back with the other (a blessing), marked my forehead with an orange smudge and promised I'd come back with a young, handsom, wealthy husband and 2 kids. Only time will tell if he's right I suppose. Next, the three of us bummed around some and later went to the puja (religious ceremony) at the Har-ki-pauri Ghat. Haridwar is an especially holy city because it stands just at the spot where the sacred Ganges river rushed out of the Himalayas. Loads of people show up every day without fail at sunrise and again at sunset for this holy gathering. Our foreheads were marked again, this time by little girls circling the crowds with tiny pallets of ink. The whole thing was a big spiritual mess really--some sat waiting while others bathed, families posed for pictures as they sent their diyas (banana leaf bowls with flowers, incense and a flickering candle) into the current, children splashed around playfully, beggars roamed to and fro and so on. As darkness crept in, more candles and big oil lanterns were lit and moved and swayed in sync with chanting. We agreed it was amazing that this production went on twice every day. After leaving the puja, we shared a delicious meal and then with hugs and warm wishes, I was on to Rishikesh.