Advertisement
Published: September 22nd 2008
Edit Blog Post
Amritsar Days,
The last week or so, I have been going out shopping and looking around town. I have become used to the city somewhat; however, I need to psyche myself up a lot to go out…one to battle the heat and two, to battle the language barrier and staring.-I even bought a pair of sunglasses just so eye contact was reduced. I have gone to a few shops here…one very expensive one where I cannot bring my self to buy anything because the prices are higher than at home, one cheaper place called Vishal, which would be akin to like Zellers or something…this store I like, and my favourite, the bazaar by the temple, the Hall Bazaar and Guru Bazaar. The family here does not shop at the bazaars much if at all. I prefer it by far; it is cheaper, more fun and there are a multitude of items of interest especially for a tourist. Again, shopping can be a battle as a tourist and non-Punjabi speaker. I am pegged right a way as a foreigner so I get harassed a little to buy things and beggars are persistent with them following me for several minutes and poking
and pinching my arm…it gets a little much. I have learned the art of ignoring them. I have given some very poor, people 10 rupees here and there, but one some other beggar sees this, then it is hard to shake them from my side. The sales people here are persistent and assume you will buy an item merely because you looked at it. This is difficult…it seems browsing is not a common practice as people just know what they want, choose it and pay. I am so accustom to “comparative” shopping that this way of purchasing, sight unseen, does not fair well with me. It seems as soon as I cast my eye upon an item, it is almost in a bag, wrapped up and the bill presented to me without any chance to say, “I am just looking.” When I enter a shop, I am not left alone to think. There is a sales person on my tail the whole time…again the concept of personal space here is very different. Since unemployment is so high, at times there are 4 to 5 salespeople in a very tiny store…friends, relatives and relations all sit in stores waitng for a
customer. At times I feel like I am prey and they are just waiting, waiting to pounce on me as I walk in a store…it is nerve racking.
I visited the Jallianwala Bagh Memorial where 1900 people where shot at with open firing of the British in 1919 during Vaisahki. The site was a walled garden where a peaceful protest was in progress to demonstrate against British rule. This site was made into a nice garden with a flame, and monument to remind people of this horrific event. There is a well there called Martyr’s Well where many people jumped into to escape bullets flying. The whole park was a reminder of the oppressors and the oppressed here in India. Actually, in all of the Punjab, one is reminded of the plight of the oppressed Sikhs and the persecution that was endured by them over the centuries. The battles and resistance the Gurus and Sikhs had to fight in order to forge ahead and establish a more progressive religion for humanity was met with much violence and opposition of the Muslims and Hindus alike. Recently, this is still the case as evidence of Indira Gandhi and her government’s purposeful
destruction of the Golden temple in 1984. This is truly unfathomable…it would be like taking tanks and guns to mow down the Vatican! The Sikh stance against this persecution is why Sikhism is perceived as being the religion of “warriors” or “militants.” when in fact, the gurus and present and past adherents were considered soldier saints for their unwavering conviction to a new way of thinking. In my time here, and in my learning of the Sikh religion, I have come to have a new understanding and respect for the ideals of my ancestors. I must admit, being of Sikh heritage, I have these feisty qualities and my genetic blueprint for “justice” can create some stirrings of passion in me regarding the way a harmonious “world should be.” Not a terrible pedigree at all. I am a true Jat girl I am told…strong in the mind and body. The notion of self-sacrifice and upholding my convictions has now made more sense than ever to me. After visiting the Sikh Museum and learning of the torture the Muslims subjected the gurus and Sikh followers to for not converting to Islam and for upholding Guru Nanak’s message of love and compassion to
all humanity, I am left with some confusion in my mind about religion. It has reinforced my strong belief in no belief other than kindness, compassion, self-awareness and a powerful regard for the laws of nature. For me, declaring a religion would be a difficult task indeed. I pray the Sikhs can forgive the atrocities against them…
I also went to visit the Durgiana Temple. This temple is said to be the Hindu’s version of the “Golden Temple,” but it pales in comparison. The temple is a temple in honour of Durga, the goddess mother of all, in Hinduism to be brief. I have a special place in my heart for Durga since Durga Das was named in her honour, plus from the amazing feats she performed to fight evil. The mythology about Durga is fascinating. The temple’s doors were the most amazing architectural aspect of it. They were all silver reliefs depicting many gods and goddesses…most intricate and detailed. The surrounding pool, similar to the Darbar Sahib (Golden Temple) was also nice. I was surprised to see many Sikh worshippers too…a testament to the respect and honour Sikhs have for other religions.
Later in the week, Saroop took me to the border of Pakistan and India where every evening there is a show of nationalism on both sides. Border guards assert their love for their country by marching up to the border gates with extreme machismo and bravado, do some marching calisthenics, while the crowds in the stands cheer “Long Live Hindustan” on the Indian side (in Hindi) and some chant involving “Allah” on the Pakistani side. The stands were full on the Indian side, which shone with brilliant colours of women’s sarees and suits, while the white dressed Pakistani stands were rather sparse. Of course the cheering contest was loud and the Indians definitely “won” this battle. Admittedly, the Pakistani’s did well for the few voices that were present. This protocol of “pomp” happens every night and cumulates with the gates opening, the guards shaking hands and each side lowering their flags in a criss-crossed unison representing “PEACE” between the nations, at least till morn. It was fun to see and be in such high energy.
Tomorrow, I am going to my dad’s villages for a few days…Buddhipind and Moranwali. It will be an exciting time indeed…can’t wait!
All my love,
Pamela Leila
Advertisement
Tot: 0.081s; Tpl: 0.01s; cc: 10; qc: 52; dbt: 0.0584s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb