Punjab

Nidhi, her father and I (the traveling trio) went to Punjab on the 12th and 13th and had a great time. Punjab is a state adjacent to Himachal Pradesh (our state) with a very distinct culture – great music, wild dancing, and funny guys in turbans. Most people in Punjab are Seiks, or Sardars, as they’re usually called, and they are the brunt of all jokes in India (Q: where do you find the most Sardars outside of Punjab? A: in jokes!). They’re known for having a great sense of humor and a hot temper, probably because the turbans they wear are really hot and make them disagreeable (Saying: Sardars go crazy around noon because the sun is right above their turbaned heads and it fries their brains). I also found them to be incredibly kind and hospitable, more than anyone else (which is saying something in this country of hospitality).
Seikism is a very interesting religion, it’s monotheistic and they follow 12 Gurus, or prophets, and worship (literally) their holy book which is comprised of poetry and sayings that the Gurus collected, and which lays down the code they are to abide by. And a funny code that is, they have to have five things with them at all times: A small knife, the book, an uncut beard, and uncut hair covered in a turban. They aren’t allowed to cut a hair on their heads, so most Sardars have really, really long hair, though you never see it because it’s always covered. Every male Sardar has the last name Singh so it’s really hard to tell them apart – they all look the same, with a turban and a beard, and they all have the same last name.
Ok, anyway, our trip.
We first visited Nidhi’s father’s old professor in Ludhiana and his two sons who were home for summer vacation from high school in California. It was weird to hear the American accent coming so perfectly from two Indians, but they were very nice, and we had a great time at their house, with their father and grandfather telling us about Seikism and its history.
Then we drove on to Amritser, the holiest city of the Seiks and one of the holiest cities in India because of the famous Golden Temple, and past it, to the border with Pakistan. That was an interesting spectacle: Wagha Border is the only peaceful border area between India and Pakistan, and they make the most of it with a parade every evening on both sides. There are huge stands on either side of the border and they’re packed with people shouting slogans and patriotic sayings, competing with each other to see who can be the loudest in support of their country. Each army sends five soldiers to the border where they salute and then (with great ceremony) lower the flags. Their manner of saluting and marching is hilarious, they don’t just stomp, they literally lift their foot to their nose before bringing it down with a crash three times and they walk with exaggerated heal-toe movements. Both sides were like that, and it was strange to watch them do something so funny so seriously.
Of course I also felt privileged to be at the border, and since Nidhi’s dad had some contacts we were allowed to go straight up to the fence. There were some other Americans on the other side and we shook hands over the border (an American in India and an American in Pakistan shaking hands. Cool!) which was great, until the guard said it was illegal and would we please stop Now.
Back to Amritser where we spent the night, and then in the morning we went to the Golden Temple. Wow, what a place. It truly felt holy, unlike most of the other places that merely looked holy. People from all over the world come there, cover their heads, take off their shoes and bathe their feet before walking slowly around the square lake of holy water, looking at the sparkling gilded temple in the center. As in all Gurudwaras, everyone first eats a communal meal, kings and beggars, Brahmins and Untouchables, all sitting side by side on the floor eating the (quite good) food that’s prepared by dozens of volunteers. And they’re so nice about it, you really feel welcomed to eat there. I think all religious institutions should follow their welcoming example.
The temple was beautiful, covered in gold and crystal and mirrors and flowers and filled with people singing devotional songs and paying their respects to the elaborately decorated book in the center. It was beautiful and awe-inspiring. And just as we left the rain came pounding down, the first of the monsoons, and turned Amritser into Venice, with canals instead of streets. (Literally, there was at least a foot or two of water in most of the roads.) But we managed to get out and come back to Solan (nine hours later) safe and sound.