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Published: April 4th 2014
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Weds 2nd April
it’s 5:30am and we’re camping at Mrs Bhandari’s Guest house in Amritsar. It’s an old colonial house built in 1930 by Mrs B’s mother and uncles, with a walled large vegetable garden, camping area and flower beds just outside the bustle of the city centre.
During the night, there’s been a chorus of dogs barking over the wall, a puppy yelping over and over, a wind storm then faint rain. I thought of my friend Tom in England who loves to listen to the rain and in a tent in India – it’s very calming.
Now, I’m sitting under a lit canopy by the shower area. There is someone chanting prayers over the wall. Already tuktuks are whirring by and the birds are squawking. The sky is a mid grey of early dawn.
I’m on cook duty along with 3 others to make breakfast for the rest – tomorrow, we swap then we go to the Golden Temple again.
Yesterday, after a smooth 40km drive from Delhi to Amritsar, we unpacked, set up camp and the 10 of us took 3 tuktuks to
watch the sunset over the Golden Temple.
The city is alive with colour and noise – it is not only the gold of the Temple that shines but the stream of people inside and around it.
It’s open to all – everyone equal - no shoes- cover your head and wonder at its beauty. The people are warm, gestured, open.
A large moth has landed on my hand whilst I write in the light of the electric bulb – must get ready for cook group.
At the Harmandir Sahib
– renamed the Golden Temple by the British, it is all too big for me to understand and I wonder why I am really here. We were ‘briefed’ before entering on the Temple’s history and religion and were then offered a guide. I appreciate what the man is telling us and remember some but the rest is a list of dates and names. I don’t do the tour but wander the temple alone through all of the people and this is where it is too big for me and I feel that I should not really be here. No one makes
me feel that way, in fact everyone smiles but this is their spiritual place and these people have come especially to pray, bathe in the waters, sit, meditate, enrich their belief in their religion and really, I have no place here and feel an intruder. There are thousands of people here circumnavigating the temple clockwise. I join, I watch. Men strip down to small waist saris and bathe fully in the large pool that is full of huge carp and surrounds the central building. Women have bathing huts and bathe behind screens. I notice that when the young men come out of the pool they dress in brand new clothes – clean inside and out. It has rained and the pool will be cold but it is full of bathers all around its edge. Again, over 20,000 people eat here free every day.
As I’m almost round to the beginning, I see Rob (our group leader) and we go to the kitchens together. We’re invited to eat but ask if we can just sit in the eating hall. No one minds. Hundreds of people are sitting cross legged in rows on long, long thin carpets, eating food
on large metal platters. Every volunteer who is ladling out the food asks us if we want to eat and they tell us of their work. The kitchen is a military operation of veg peelers, cooks, pot washers, ladlers, floor cleaners and endless other things – it’s all free paid for by donations lifted from the donation pots which surround the temple pool. These people are warm and have underlying values – Equality, Personal right, Actions count, living as a family, sharing, accept God’s will, The four truths of life: Truth, contentment, contemplation and Naam. I have more questions about myself here than what I can see and feel.
Back at Mrs Bhandari’s, I eat lunch in her guest house dining kitchen. It hasn’t changed since the 30’s when it was built and all of the family pottery is on shelves – old Shelley childrens’ china cups and bowls, a full willow pattern service with 2 handled cups, 30’s tea sets, silver tea pots and urns, an aga and big Belfast sink. Dalip cooks and lays the table and it looks just like the staff kitchen at Chatsworth many years ago – a round table with a
cloth, covered butter always on the table, little salt and pepper, tea pots with chained lids and jugs with croched and beaded cloths over. It’s genteel at Mrs Bhandari’s – take a look:
http://bhandari_guesthouse.tripod.com.
and in the afternoon, I take a swim in the small pool.
At 3pm, we all meet to drive to the border to watch the lowering of the flags and the closing of the gate ceremony at the Indian/ Pakistani border. Again, thousands of people are queuing – foreigners get an easy ride with a separate entrance but still we all queue for a long time. The heat is baking. No bags at all are allowed here, passports are checked repeatedly at different gates, then women are then routed one way and the men another for searches for anything – weapons, cigarettes even. We get to sit on steps in a foreigner’s area as ‘Guests of India’. To the right, thousands sit in steeply banked seats and to the left the real VIP’s sit on plastic chairs. Everyone has seen Palin’s tv programme of this display but what you don’t see is the build-up party before hand.
Loud music is played, women dance in bollywood style on the road to the gate and then, people run in relay along the road to the border and back with huge flags, there’s odd chanting which is designed to drown out the Pakistani side which we can also see and hear in full chant mode over the wall. I’ve never seen a man kick his leg so high that his foot goes behind his ear before today. But today, it’s common place in this ceremonial spectacle. The actual lowering of the flags and opening and closing of the gates and return of the flag in a very ceremonial marching with arms straight out way, lasts about 5 minutes – the build up party is the real atmosphere.
Thursday 3
rd – a full drive from Amritsar to McLeod Ganj 8am – 4pm. winding roads and I feel a little sick.
But when we arrive and I am beyond excited at what is here.
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Thomas
non-member comment
The Intruder
I loved the part of feeling like one shouldn't be there... What a place. It seems you were the perfect observer; present but without imposing your presence. Thanks for sharing