Saturday, August 29, 2009
Day 15:
Although I do plan things in life, such as this experience to India, I'm sometimes not so keen on the details. Friday evening, I booked a flight to Amritsar for myself and Rosie... a kind of fly by your seat trip, as we would arrive Saturday by 9am and depart 12 hours later. Of course this was a last resort since trains were already booked for the weekend, and I considered hiring a driver, but the thought of 18+ hours in the car was unbearable. So for only 6,000 rupees, we would have an adventure and save tons of time on the commute. I was slightly worried about how well this would work out since I heard that India is notorious for cancelling domestic travel. However, after departing the Delhi airport promptly at 7:45, we already booked a driver for the day (1,500 rupees) and were off in Amritsar.
Amritsar is the head city in the Punjab region of India, full of over 1.5 million people. OUr first stop was to go to Jallianwala Bagh, the site of the 1919 massacre under British rule. For 10-15 minutes, soldiers opened fire on unarmed men, women, and children. The bullet holes remain to be seen within the walls.
Right down the road is the Golden Temple, which is the spiritual center of the Sikh religion. Our driver, Deepak, was wonderful and led us through the area. Women and men must cover their head, and we had to wash our hands and feet before stepping within the holy grounds. It was such a beautiful experience to walk around the temple, although I sweated more than I ever had in my life. Deepak showed us the rituals, such as drinking the holy pinkish water, which I skeptically sipped and prayed that the water was truly holy (or that the cipro would kill whatever bacteria may be). We shuffled through the lines, not really knowing what was proper protocol, and ended up with a hot tray of halva, a sugary / flour concoction that was covered with banana leaves. Music and a chanting prayer fills the air as we waited on line with our tray about 20 minutes until the we got to the center of the temple. Next we handed our tray to these men, who dumped the halva into a central dished, mixed it around, and scooped us a mini portion in our banana leaf to eat. I definitely need to find out more about this custom, because we were really lost at what to do, and what the significance of it meant.
Pictures aren't allowed to be taken in the temple, and I will be unable to describe the beauty of the different rooms and floors. Also, in each room there is a person singing / chanting. On the way out, you are to drink from the water that surrounds the temple, and I wet my lips to the water (again, slightly fearful that belly issues may arise).
As non-planners, I happened to rip a few pages about Amritsar from my India travel book (thanks again Ash!). In the car ride to see what to do next, I read about the Mata Temple. Deepak drove us and again, was kind enough to give us the tour, although it was only in hindi. We had to drop our shoes off and wash our hands and dip our feet in a bath before entering. This temple was psychadelic, in every bold color you could imagine, and we had to climb up steps, crawl into a cave like structure, and wade our ankles in water during our visit. Below is a link to some photos I found online about this temple. http://www.goldentemplephotos.com/golden-temple-photographs.asp?CategoryID=12&CategoryName=Mata%20Mandir
Since it was relatively early we stopped for some shopping along the way, although it rained briefly, which flooded the street. Rosie and I weren't brave enough to wade through the water so we stopped at another bazaar and I purchased a sari, pretty much because the man was really nice and it looked like a poor area, so I did my best to help the economy.
At 4pm, we began the drive to the Indian - Pakistan border. It was a straight drive, and actually quite lush, which was surprising. There were the usual cows along the road... we were both a bit nervous, because we weren't sure of what to expect, and didn't want to be the example of 2 women being kidnapped along the way. Deepak parked in a lot and told us to leave our bags. Again, the skeptical New Yorker was thankful I was wearing my cargo pants and loaded up my pockets with our passports and any cash I had, took my big bottle of water, vitamin C candies, and tissues, God forbid I would have to use a public toilet. Although the city was so hot, I ended up drinking 2 large bottles of water and didn't have that issue.
We lined up on the women's line and walked through security, feeling a little better that bags are not allowed through the gates. We walked along the road with throngs on people and ended up at a semi-stadium like area. When we entered on the women's side, we were told to go to the foreigners area. As a white gal, I kind of stick out like a sore thumb in India, and have just gotten used to getting looked at and having people blatantly take photos of me, even though I do wear my kurta, cover my legs, and wear my dupatta. We headed to the foreigner area and showed our passports to enter. We saw in the distance the Pakistani flag waving in the area. Strangely enough, we ran into 5 other volunteers from the Dharamsala site, which was comforting, sat down and waited for the festivities to begin.
The area was packed and the foreigner section eventually overflowed with Hindustanis who were in the nearby section. It was not possibly to move and the heat was intense as the sun was getting ready to set. I have to say it was a bit concerning to wonder, if I need an escape route or have to faint, it would be quite difficult. One Sikh father with his son tried to rush him out, but was not in time as his son vomitted on the steps. Yep, it was a hot day.
This nightly ceremony is definitely one of the strangest experiences I've ever witnessed. It's almost a battle of whose stereo equipment is better as the Indians and Pakistanis blare there music. The crowd was getting into Punjabi hits and dancing, and they even played Jai Ho. It was like a block party, but only certain people were allowed on the street area, and the Pakistanis weren't invited. Children ran to the gates with the Indian flag, again the crowd cheered. There really weren't too many people on the Pakistani side, although it was difficult to see behind the gate what was happening. Since many of my students in the U.S. come from Pakistan, I was rooting them on as well.
The guards on both sides of the border say something similar to "Goooooooaaaaalllllllll !!!" over the microphone and its almost like who can use their breath to say it the longest. Again the crowd cheered. The high point is the guards do a high-kick walk to the gate.... I equate it with a type of dance-off. Actually a straight out dance off might be more entertaining. They did open the gates for some time and we could see the Pakistani guards dressed in black, and the Indians (Hindustanis) dressed in tan with red ornate hats.
I guess this event is nationalism to its utmost. I contemplated what if the U.S. and Canada engaged in this type of pissing contest. We would be subjected to Celine Dion's voice blasting from the soundsystem... so I definitely wouldn't want to partake in that event :) The U.S. and Mexico would have a more entertaining border party... maybe there would be who can break the pinata the fastest and gather the most goodies contest.
At 6:45ish we ran back to the car, and fortunately Deepak was still there with our bags (I feel bad for even doubting him). He drove us back along the dusty road, became flustered and then said a prayer because he drove over some snakes, and dropped us off at the airport with plenty of time to catch our 8:45 flight back to Delhi.
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