The Lazy Cherub Enigma: Staying Golden at the Golden Temple

September 8, 2015

So about that Greek Salad…

That salad turned out to be the worst salad in more ways than one. About 6 hrs. after eating it, I was in the throes of a full blown “salad cleanse” of epic proportions. You’d think I’d know better, having travelled enough not to eat something that hasn’t been irradiated before consumption but I was feeling over confident. The restaurant was a high end one in the Khan Market where all the diplomatic core shop and do lunch. Apparently I had a salad at the one place that is trying to kill off diplomacy. Needless to say, after two days I am very “cleansed” of anything that remained of my life before entering India. I did not get to see the muscly men of the Kashmere Gate nor did I get to partake in the street kids tour of Old Delhi. Instead, I worshipped at the porcelain alter and repented for speaking ill of iceberg lettuce.

Then it was on a train and off to Amritsar – home to Sikhism’s holiest shrine – The Golden Temple. Train ride was uneventful. I slept through most of it and all I can remember is that the AC was on Antarctic setting and they never stop feeding you for the entire 6 hours. No food for me though – just milk tea and ice cream. WestJet could learn a lot about service from Indian “Meals on Wheels.”

Amritsar is full blown sensory overload. It is a place of pilgrimage and as such, is crowded, decrepit and undeniably timeless. Except for motor vehicle traffic it’s hard to imagine much has changed (or been repaired) in at least 200 years. All efforts and love go into the Golden Temple – a place of serene beauty amidst overwhelming chaos and absolute squalor. Your journey into holy bliss begins with handing in your shoes and walking through a canal of running water. Then it is into the courtyard where you see the Pool of Nectar – a giant man made pool where the Golden Temple holds court center stage. The temple itself is open 24 hrs. and people come to merely “Be” in the presence of this shrine. There is a feeling of inner peace as you walk among the columns. Men and children bath in the pool where giant carp nibble at their toes. Being female, I went into one of the enclosed bathing areas with the woman and took a dip. There is nothing quite like being surrounded by naked Sikh women of all ages laughing, gossiping and enjoying what is probably one of the few moments of uncensored feminine power and solidarity allowed in this part of the country.

The heat was unbearable at 42 Celsius so only Ken braved the throngs to line up and enter the temple itself. I waited on the steps with the wives and children. I made friends with a young girl – maybe about 12 years of age. In her broken English we were able to share our names, our ages, and our marital statuses. (She is not married and informed me she hopes to remain so for a very long time!). When I answered I had no children she laughed and said “I no children either!” and then pointed to her mother, “I am only child!” Ah – we are kindred. Shortly after a tall man in flowing white robes and a long black beard arrives and sweeps the girl into his arms. They smile and laugh and he quickly touches his wife’s waist before the religious guard sees them. Any displays of romantic affection are frowned upon at the temple. The young girl points to me and tells me the man is her father. His smile is warm and he shakes my hand. “I will send my daughter to Canada when she is old enough.” He tells me. “Yes!” exclaims the girl, “I come visit you! I see all of Canada!” And for some reason, I believe she will and that she will get her wish and remain unmarried and free for a very, very, long time…

Ken arrives sweat soaked from his Golden experience and we make our way into the common area for communal lunch (Langer). The sheer number of people being fed coupled with the military precision of funneling people in and out is awe inspiring. In a large hall we sit on bamboo mats with hundreds of other pilgrims and are served rice, rotis, lentils and coconut pudding – all you can eat! But eat it ALL you must for to waste food is unholy (as it should be!). It was the best Indian food we had eaten so far. Then as the heat of the day had now taken hold of us all, it was time to either find a bit of shade and sleep on the marble or, in our case, make our way back to the hotel for an afternoon nap.

A visit in Amritsar is not complete until you witness the flag lowering ceremony at the Pakistani/Indian border. Every evening at sunset, Pakistan and India take pomp and ceremony to epic levels in a carnival like exchange of high kicks, angry faces, and crowds whipped into patriotic frenzies on both sides. Vendors hawk t-shirts, popcorn and ice cold water to the crowds while women dance and Pakistanis screams with fervor to drown out the Bollywood music. All of this would have been a fabulous study in hilarity and political theatre had we not been in the stands for 2 hours waiting in 45-Celsius heat with no shade. I must have sweated off 10 lbs. waiting for those damn flags to come down and the whole time all I thought was “I could see this on YouTube a hell of a lot better than I can from the stands and I don’t have to get heat stroke in the process.” If you have diplomatic or military connections you can get the good seats right at the gates where the good stuff actually happens. Failing that, try and get to Pakistan and see if from there side. They have way better stadium seating and go all out with crowd entertainment and military showmanship. If wars were to be won by theatrics, Pakistan would rule the world.