A short flight due north took us to Amritsar, also known as “City of Nectar,” and the home of the Sikh faith. Although less than 2% of India’s population, the Sikhs are easily recognizable with their distinctive full beards and turbans tied in a particular way. Sikhism is a 15th century spin off of Hinduism from a group who opposed idol worship, rituals and the caste system. The men have long hair that is never cut and it is worn in a top-knot inside their turbans. Another outward symbol for their anti-caste belief is that all Sikhs have the surname, Singh (although be careful because not all Singhs are Sikhs!).
We headed straight to the Golden Temple, the holiest Sikh shrine and the “Mecca” of the Sikh world. For every devout believer, it is important that they make a pilgrimage to the Golden Temple (and bathe in its “pool of nectar”) at least once during their lifetime. Shoes were removed and the ladies were required to cover their heads in veils. We walked through a small trough of water to symbolically cleanse our feet and entered through one of four entrances. This was my third visit to Amritsar and it takes my breath away every time! Plated in gold and heavily decorated, the temple is stunning at any time of day.
Following in the path of the pilgrims, we ended in the community soup kitchen which is the most remarkable example of grand-scale volunteerism I have ever witnessed. They provide a free meal to all visitors to the temple that is 100% staffed by volunteers and most days, over 10,000 meals are served. It is a simple meal consisting of dal (lentils) and fresh chipatis (a type of flat bread) that is baked throughout the day and hot milky tea called chai . It is available to Sikhs and non-Sikhs alike. We toured the kitchen and hives of activity: clusters of volunteers peeling garlic, onions and potatoes, other areas kneading the dough for the bread, the bakery area (which smelled divine), the cooking area where huge cauldrons of lentils simmered, and perhaps most impressive, the dishwashing station where thousands of plates, bowls and spoons were washed with military precision. We joined a circle of ladies and helped roll chipatis!
We checked into the Hyatt Hotel, our abode for our short one night stay, and did a quick turnaround to drive 18 miles west to the India-Pakistan border for the daily flag lowering ceremony. Our caravan of SUVs had a full police escort which came in very handy as we breezed through toll booths and checkpoints and dodged the queues! As one might imagine, security is tight and we went through several screenings (both the cars and one of the “freshest” pat-downs I’ve ever had) and were escorted to our reserved seats in the 2nd and 3rd row of the “VIP section” which is closest to the gate. The grandstands were packed and people were waving flags, and many had them tattooed on their cheeks! There was an emcee who was winding the crowds up with lusty cheers, and it finally erupted into full on Bollywood flash mob with music and dancing! The Pakistan side, in contrast, was quiet and kept to their seats!
Finally amidst bugling and drum rolls, the double set of gates opened and the ceremony began in earnest with splendidly uniformed border guards marching out with plumed helmets, white gloves and white spats! Each side “goose-stepped” in unison toward the flag pole. Every single step on the Indian side was mirrored on the Pakistan side with precision and it warranted hearty enthusiastic approval from the crowds on both sides. The flags were lowered, the gates slammed shut, the color brigades retreated to their respective bunkers and the whole event was over. One could not help but be swept up in the patriotic fervor and yet it was a poignant reminder that before the painful partition in 1947, Pakistan was part of India!
Tarquin and I awoke early to re-visit the Golden Temple at sunrise, thinking it would be a bastion of tranquility and astonishingly, it was just as busy at 6:30 AM as it was the prior afternoon! Pilgrims were taking dips in the tank and I am positive it was an eye-opener in the pre-dawn chill. The soup kitchen was in full swing and Tarquin captured some amazing photos which tell the story best.