[JPM Travel Journals] INDIA and NEPAL 01 Intro to India Holi Holy Vrindaban The Sadhu in Taj's Shadow Pushkar's Respite A Sitar & a Vespa in Udaipur The Clean-Bombing of Mumbai Goa Beach Hippie Sighting Tours Unequal Vision in Benares Everest, Out the Window Into Their Thin Air Anna Purr Now Within You Without You Rishikesh Part 2 Amritsar: Bold, Gold His Holiness of Dangerous Liasons Delhi Visit #5 New Delhi Turns to New York [ PHOTO ARCHIVE ]

Amritsar: Bold, Gold 11 June 01 Amritsar, India. After a near sleepless night in sweltering Delhi and then an early morning six hour train ride with screaming kids in the albeit chilly A/C chair car, I find myself in Amritsar, home of the Golden Temple & the Sikh capital of the world-- or so it would appear. This place is really extraordinary. The temple itself, architecturally is not that astounding-- but the compound and the environment here is really something. I only saw one other European-descended human in my afternoon at the temple, e.g. no other western tourists here apparently. The Sikhs are a lovely people-- the friendliness and forthrightness is immediately felt in contrast to much of the rest of India. And the feeling, the whole experience here, is just so much more pure and potent than the overly commercialised Taj Mahal. Amritsar's Golden Temple illuminated at night. I was hoping it wouldn't be quite so hot here, but yet again I'm stuck in the climate of soaking three sets of clothes a day with sweat, and taking four or five showers over the course of the day just to try and stay cool. And I'm embarassed for the number of cold corporate carbonated beverages that I'm consuming-- at least they all come in the stylish old fashioned glass bottle here. There, now I don't feel so guilty. I walked about the temple, quite an amusement to all the Sikh pilgrims and families-- me with my faux turban fashioned from an indian fabric lunghi (towel) and even puffed out my now-two-months-old full beard. With the glasses, and if I had a sword strapped over my shoulder I think I could fool a few Sikhs. Needless to say its been a day of curious staring, numerous requests to have my photo taken with the family in front of the temple, and countless 'Which Country? Hello, my name is [name] Singh, so nice to meet you. You want friendship?' I had one of the guards at the temple leave his post and start following me around, insisting that I must be German and talking to me only in German, despite my repeated explanations (in paltry German) that my German ain't so good and that I'd do much better in English. Then he tried talking with me in Hindi, which went okay until I exhausted my few sentences and topics, but unfortunately he didn't know Spanish or we could have repeated the conversation again. Many have resorted to pig latin in effort to stymie the overly-conversive international interrogators. Tickling works best with the children. It's so excellent to see all the cool Sikh boys running around, their long hair tied up in a little top-knot, the iron bangle on their wrists. They're so unique-- like adults or so the astute appearance makes it seem-- and yet running about like kids. The girls don't seem to have as much distinction; perhaps they just seem more conventional. And of course the older Sikh gentlemen are a curious wonder as well-- how envious I am of their fancy long beards twirled and tied under their chins, elegant turbans twisted on their heads-- shooting across the crowded streets on a clunky old two-stroke scooter with their wife/ children/ groceries on the back. - - Something great happened, but it's hard to declare. Maybe I just finally felt more free than usual-- off on my own again (after spending the last two/three weeks with some friends I'd made in Rishikesh.) I just let go. I wasn't even planning on coming here to Punjab or Amritsar, but after having the yoga classes with the gentle Sikh teacher, and trying to find a way to Dharamsala without weaving so much through the mountains on a 16 hour local bus-- I just set a chanceful course and off I went, intent to see something new and unknown. Spontaneity, lack of expectation, something like that. (Such poignant words for those that can understand.) I haven't slept much the last few nights because of the heat and some anxiety (just been rushing around a lot and much on my mind) so tonight I hope to turn in early. Then I'll wake about four a.m. and head to the bus station. If the information I've been given is accurate, I should be bound on one of the many local buses to Pathinkot and then shortly onward to Dharamsala, McLeodganj. Or so I anticipate. His Holiness of Dangerous Liasons >> ©2001 JPM. All photography and writing copyrighted.