Ram Bagh Garden

Amritsar is a different animal as far as Indian cities are concerned. I hadn't realized how different until today. I decided to visit the Ram Bagh Garden. It was one of the spots listed as a point of interest by the guest house on their card. It seemed like it might be a good place to just relax for a while as the day passed and it got to be time to go and catch my bus to Delhi.

I set out and crossed the tracks in search of the park. I first thought I had found the park when I reached a gate with an enclosed area inside. But there was no grass. There were no people. There was a building and a tree. I went in and it seemed to be a special Sikh place actually. I was trespassing a bit, I think, but they were welcoming anyway. It turned out that the spot was a martyring place. At some point, and I'm not sure when and I don't know who was martyred or how many there were. The man in the area didn't speak any English, but he showed me the place.

But the sign attached to the tree made clear that Sikhs were hung there and it seemed that the British were the ones doing the hangings. I think it might have been in 1817, which seemed to be the year that was on the sign, but I'm not sure.

Then I headed out again to find the park. I was fooled at first by the state of the building in the garden. It was in the process of being renovated and brought up to a level where people could go in and look around. It may, at some point, be a tourist attraction in its own right, possibly with an entrance fee attached. But for now it's a somewhat decrepit, crumbling old building. I was somewhat disappointed that this was the spot that was considered of interest.

I found a bench nearby and sat down to just enjoy the day. After a while I got up and followed another path around the old house and found... a park.

A real park. With people doing things I have seen in parks the world over. There were kids in a roller-blading area.

There were people doing an exercise class.

There were others who were just sitting and chatting.

There was even what looked like a taekwondo class in progress. People of all ages were using the park. And I realized that this was the first time in nearly three months in India that I have seen a park actually being used. It was a surprise to realize it. And it was refreshing. Amritsar is truly a different kind of city in this country.

Mata Mandir and Smaller Sights in Amritsar

The main sites for tourists in Amritsar are the Golden Temple, the border closing ceremony, and the so-called Silver Temple. With my ample time in the city, I decided to make sure I would see the Silver Temple, or Durgiana Mandir as it's called. But I had read about another place called Mata Temple as well. A guy in my guest house told me he had visited it as well, and he gave it a raving thumbs up. I set out to find it as well.

I had looked it up in Google Maps and on Google Earth, but Mata Temple wasn't actually listed anywhere, so it was difficult to find. I didn't want to have to rely on a rickshaw driver to get me there if I could find it myself and within a reasonable distance. I eventually found a spot with a photo posted on Google Earth, and knew roughly where I would have to go to find it.

I started walking and avoided the rickshaw guys for the most part. One guy, though, seemed to think that my walking right past him with barely a muttered, “Hi,” in response to his greeting was actually an invitation to turn his rickshaw around and come after me and try to get me to ride in his rickshaw. No. I don't want to ride. I'm walking and I don't know why you are following me. It took a while, but he gave up.

Then I was not entirely sure where to go next, so I stopped at a corner to ask a man where I had to go. Another rickshaw driver rode up and asked where I was going. He had a fare already, so I let him tell me what direction I had to go. Of course, I also knew that he was probably going to be dropping his fare off shortly and I would have to face him again. And I did. He followed me for a long while wanting to take me to the temple. I told him I was really wanting to walk. He told me it was so far. He just didn't get it. In the end he kind of gave up, but I thought I might see him yet again. So when I discovered what a different animal Amritsar really is, I took the opportunity to duck out and take a bit of a rest.

Unlike most of the spots that I have visited in India, Amritsar has recreational parks. Sitting in the middle of a couple of neighbourhoods, I saw parks with playgrounds and benches and nicely landscaped lawns. It was really nice, and something I haven't seen much of at all in India so far. It was a refreshing surprise.

After a short rest, I headed back out to find the temple. There was no sign of the rickshaw driver. Score! After asking a few more people, I found the well-marked lane to find the temple (by well-marked, I actually mean there was no indication at all that I was headed in the right direction), and headed down it. Along the way, I had people call out hello's and then ask if I was looking for the temple. When I said yes, they indicated the way with a big smile. Helpful, friendly locals. It's so nice to be back in that kind of India.

I found the temple and it was really interesting. The temple required a visit through a maze of corridors that led up stairs and through corridors, past idols of all kinds of different gods, even through tunnels that were shaped to give the impression of being in caves, some with water on the floor. It was really cool. Except for the huge number of people asking for a donation. Again, that could have been left for one guy at the door. But all in all, it was a visit well worth the effort involved.

Then it was on to the Silver Temple, which meant getting back across the train tracks. It was reasonably easy to manage, but still required asking directions a couple of times. This was always forthcoming, with no exasperation on the part of the helpers. They just helped. Ah, India. Is there any way I can fly to Egypt from here without having to return to Delhi?

I arrived at the Durgiana Temple and it was quite impressive as well. It also sits in the middle of a pool of water. I'm not sure if that is an attempt to make it as impressive as the Golden Temple or if they really need it. I haven't seen another Hindu temple so situated, so I'm suspicious.

Whatever the case, the Silver Temple isn't all that silver. It too seems to gilded in gold. I'm not sure what the silver refers to, but the back part of the temple is all white marble, so maybe it refers to the colour of the temple there. It is still an attractive temple.

I arrived as some sort of ceremony was going on inside. This was at noon. While I was watching, a man approached me and started talking to me. He showed me a page where he had written: Lifeisnowhere. He asked me to read it and he would explain what it was in a few moments. I have seen it before, but I still initially saw: Life is nowhere. After looking at it again, I remembered that it actually says: Life is now here.

He came back and told me he was a teacher and wanted to talk to me. I was a bit wary, wondering if this was going to end up costing me anything. But he just talked to me about being to experience the whole world even though he has never been anywhere. I thought that was lovely, but I was still glad I was able to travel and experience the world first hand. A British couple came in and he invited them over. He taught us a few words in Hindi, that I would have liked to have known a lot earlier, with only a few days left in the country, but better late than never. Unfortunately I didn't write them down, and now they are lost to me.

Then he took his leave of us and it had really been just a man being friendly. Super!

After that I finished looking around the temple grounds and headed off to find the Golden Temple again. Nearby, I had seen a stand selling sleeper bus tickets to Delhi. I could have tried to take the train, but the train times are somewhat inconvenient, and with the extra length of the trip here from Haridwar, I didn't want to be stuck on a train for a full day or so waiting for fog to clear. I don't know what might happen with the bus, but I'll deal with that should it occur. It's all why I am going back with three days to spare. If something goes horribly wrong, then I have time to get in place for my flight.

I had really enjoyed Amritsar and I looked forward to just chillin' in a park the following day before my night bus back to icky Delhi.

Amritsar in the Daylight

After getting my first view of the Golden Temple in the evening hours, I wanted to go back and see more of it and to see it in the daylight. So I got up and headed over to the temple again. There was also another site nearby the temple called Jallianwala Bagh. This is the site of an infamous massacre by the British against peaceful and unarmed protesters.

In the early days of the move to independence, not just in India but in all of its colonies, Britain would give some autonomy only to claw it back in other ways. In India responsible government was granted the country, but then a couple of other laws, most notably the Rowlatt laws were introduced. This took some power away from the supposedly free-acting Indian government. People started to demonstrate against the laws. In one instance, here in Amritsar, the people were gathering to meet and find ways of opposing the British government's moves. They were abiding by Gandhi's principles of doing so without violence, and indeed in the same spirit and Gandhi, were committed to taking punishment without retaliation. On April 13^th, 1919, a group of about twenty thousand people had gathered in a place called Jallianwala Bagh. “Bagh” means garden, but this was not really a garden. It was an empty piece of land that was a place of garbage and refuse. It was situated in a neighbourhood that surrounded it on almost all sides. There were a couple of very small crawl-type spaces between a couple of buildings and one narrow entrance to the “garden.”

The area around the bagh was raised over the years as buildings were put in place and the ground in the bagh itself was some 5 feet lower than the surrounding area. This is where the twenty thousand people were meeting. A detachment of the British army, under the command of Brigadier General Dyer, arrived at Jallianwala Bagh and entered through the alley. They took up positions on the high ground and aimed. Without identifying themselves or their intentions, and without giving any warning, Dyer ordered his men to begin firing on the assembled group. They had nowhere to go. If ever a situation could be called shooting fish in a barrel, this was it. Panic took over the group. People tried climbing over the walls to safety, but the walls were 10 to 15 feet in height. When they got to the top, many were shot before they could jump to the other side. People fell injured and dying, only to be trampled by others trying to escape. The army held the only viable exit. Nobody could get away.

 Others tried to seek safety by jumping into a well that was in the garden. Later, a couple hundred bodies would be found in the well, having drowned by not being able to survive for long, or perhaps by having others jump in on top of them.

Estimates varied as to how long the firing went on. Dyer estimated 15 to 20 minutes. Given the number of men and the number of rounds fired, it could have been only about 5 minutes. However long it was, 1650 rounds were fired. In all, about 380 people died, including one baby and 41 boys. Some 1500 people were injured. None were armed. None had any warning.

Dyer was roasted on the spit of public opinion, both in India and in England. The governor of Punjab, Michael O'Dwyer also found disfavour. One survivor of the massacre, Uddam Singh, followed O'Dwyer home to England and, many years later, shot and killed him in a public event. For his act of vengeance/justice he was hanged. His ashes were returned to India in 1973 to a hero's welcome.

After the massacre, the government purchased the garden from the owners and turned it into a real garden and memorial to the people who died there. They preserved many key pieces of the site and event, including bullet holes on some of the buildings, and the well (which has been named the Martyr's Well). There is an eternal flame, and a large memorial to the people who died on that tragic day.

Walking through the garden, I got a horrible feeling of how trapped and helpless the people who were there must have felt. There really seemed to be no way out.

Of course, this didn't stop kids from approaching because they wanted me to take their photo. It's so nice to be back in areas where this happens, and where they don't immediately stick their hands out for their modelling fee.

After this sobering visit, I headed back into the Golden Temple complex for a visit during the day. And seeing it in the light of day, although still mightily impressed, I was doubly glad I had first seen it in the night. The effect of that glowing gold roof, lit up in the night was mightily impressive.

Yet, the daytime view was almost as impressive. With all the people coming to worship at the temple, there was activity everywhere. There was a long line of people waiting to get into the temple. I didn't think I would be trying to visit the inside again. This was another good reason to come during the much less busy night time hours. I walked right into the temple to look around. No lines, no waiting.

I circumambulated the whole pool. I hadn't able to do that with Zena the previous night. It had been getting a bit late, and she didn't seem to realize that there was a whole lot of stuff to look at all the way around the pool. And, of course, trying to tell her anything like that was just speaking to a blank wall. She didn't things she didn't want to hear. So we just walked back to the entrance rather than finishing the whole round. Of course, it didn't really matter, as I had much more time than she did, so I would have the time to see everything.

So now I got to finish the whole round. I saw the miracle tree, where the deformed man had been healed.

There was a prayer hall just outside the complex.

Another spot held either a memorial or possibly the remains of an inspirational Sikh leader who fought for the kingdom. The story goes that, at age about 70, he grew enraged at the Mughal leader and took up arms against them, and he vowed not to stop until he had taken Amritsar. During the battles, his head was cut off. One of his advisers reminded him of his oath, whereupon he picked up his head in one hand and continued fighting. This inspired his troops and carried them to victory.

Then I sat for a while beside the pool and watched people taking their ablutions...

...saying their devotions...

...and just sitting in their own contemplations and thoughts.

Despite all the activity in the complex, it was peaceful. I had been told that all Sikhs are to come to the Golden Temple at some point in their lives and give a week in service to the temple and the people who come. They cook, or clean, or answer questions. They guard the entrances to ensure compliance with the rules by visitors. They take and hold shoes (and socks), and other belongings. It is, I suppose a lot like other religions where the life's goal is to visit one of the places of pilgrimage, like Mecca in Islam or Jerusalem for many of the world's religions. I'm not sure if others have that service component. But the Golden Temple is for people of all faiths. All are welcome here, and people of all religions come here to pray. One man told me (the night before) that it was a place for Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs. It was all he could say in English. I think he really wanted to make sure that I understood all could come here without fear. All were welcome and none would be turned away. And then another man chimed in that the Golden Temple had entrances from all sides so that all could come and worship. I wish all religions could operate like that. The world might be a much nicer place.

Amritsar and the Return of the Rafting Lunatic

The trip to Amritsar was interminable. It started in Haridwar at about 10:00 at night. It was supposed to be about 8 hours (which is still not so great as the distance was only supposed to be a little under 400 kilometers). I was told later that the reason was fog, but 15 hours later the train arrived in Amritsar. Yikes!!!

In Haridwar I had seen the lunatic Brazilian woman from the rafting trip getting on the train as well. She asked me where I was going to stay. I told her I didn't know. She suggested a place, but the train was threatening to head out, so we got on our respective train cars and rode to Amritsar. In Amritsar, we met again outside the train and she had already had some rickshaw driver attach himself to her. She asked again if I would like to go to the same guest house where she was going to stay. Not yet having found a place to stay (big surprise there), I figured that it would be as a place to stay as any. I accepted and we got on the rickshaw and the guy pedalled us around to the Tourist Guest House. The guest house was quite acceptable to me, and it was cheap. We got settled in. Well, I got settled in. Zena had only the one day in Amritsar and wanted to see a couple of things. As the train had arrived so late, that cut down on her get-out-and-see-stuff time. She didn't really have any extra time to be lolling about. She wanted to go and see the main attraction in town, the Golden Temple. I was hungry after the train ride and lack of food for a few days, so I just hung out at the guest house. Zena also said she wanted to go and see the closing of the India-Pakistan border for the day. We were only told that we could hire a taxi for 400 or so rupees for the trip. It would be good to share that expense, so I told her I would go with her. But she had to get back by 3:30 to be able to do that. She was going to be running around like a headless chicken, and I was told that the Golden Temple is large and would take three or four hours to see properly. But it was up to her how she was going to do things. I had a couple of days, so I had no worries. I sat and read in the sun and had some lunch.

Around 3:30 Zena returned and asked if I was ready to go to the border. She had found a guy near the temple who was putting people together for a trip to the border in a jeep thing. It was only 100 rupees per person. Cool! I put my book away, got my camera and off we went. But it was a typical squash-as-many-people-as-possible-in-the-jeep-so-as-much-money-as-possible-can-be-made deals. It was a tight fit. And Zena kept telling the others along the seat to make more room because she was so squashed in. I tried pointing out that they were just as squished as we she was, but she still kept on about it.

Then we got to the border and the driver told us we had to leave our bags behind. We were allowed to take our cameras, but no bags, I imagine for security reasons. And I should have realized that when I was at the guest house, when I would have been able to leave it behind and not have to leave it with the jeep guy for the mere protection fee of 20 rupees. Hmmm... Oh well.

But Zena didn't like that. She still tried to take her camera bag with her. They told her again and again that she couldn't. I think she might be a deaf lunatic. She wasn't happy about it, because it was dusty and she had a nice camera. But she just didn't get it that she wouldn't even get past the first security perimeter with her bag. Much like she didn't get it that she wouldn't get in the raft without signing the waiver. I found her to be entertaining, but also quite frustrating. Her arguing with the driver about the camera bag was taking time, and we had already arrived at the border area a bit late. We were going to miss the ceremony if she kept it up. She eventually seemed to realize that, gave up the fight and we set off.

It was about a 10 minute walk to the border and we were hurrying. Or I thought we were going to hurry so we wouldn't miss it. But then she started thinking that there were things she wanted to take photos of on the way. Instead of on the way back, when we would have time. Aieechiwawa!! She just didn't get things at all.

We were directed to the foreigners seating area. Sometimes the whole being a foreigner thing does result in being treated quite specially. The foreigner's area was closest to the border gates of all the general spectators, even closer than Indians who had, possibly, purchased special tickets to get them closer than other Indians.

And there were a lot of people there. In what could only be described as bleachers there could well have been 30 thousand people there to watch the border be closed for the day. It was quite fascinating. And there were only a handful of foreigners, which was possibly more interesting.

On the Pakistan side of the border there was another set of bleachers, but they weren't nearly as full. The reason wasn't clear. Lahore, on the Pakistan side, is about as close as Amritsar. Perhaps it is the current uncertainty in Pakistan and the surrounding region. Perhaps, they are as fiercely patriotic as the Indians are. I'm not sure. But to counter the 30 or so thousand people on the Indian side, there were only a few thousand at most on the Pakistan side. But the performance was fascinating. I couldn't really see the other side clearly, but the Indian side had a cheerleader who was leading the Indians to cheer at the right times, and giving them chants to say while the border ceremony was taking place. It was neat to watch.

And it was also amazing that I could get to within probably 30 meters of Pakistan with very little in the way of active security. I couldn't even get that close to the United States from Canada without being very closely monitored. And the US and Canada are close friends and allies. India and Pakistan are supposed to be somewhat mortal enemies, but this was a very low-key event, as far as security was concerned. No doubt, if anyone really stepped out of line, there would have been a quick and harsh response. But it never felt that way.

On the way back to the jeep, Zena and I dawdled a bit and took some photos in places. She kept wanting her photo taken to show she had been there. I figured one in one spot would suffice for that, but she wanted more and more. That was all right though. I didn't mind taking photos of her in front of a sign here, and the border station there. At least she wasn't complaining about how it should be. At least not then.

One thing that I did find quite interesting was the line of trucks waiting to get across the border. The trucks were lined up for at least a kilometer. The border is open from 10 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon. Amritsar is only 30 kilometers from the border, so it's not that hard to go and come back. But these trucks were obviously sticking around. That must mean it takes a long time to get through the border and they didn't want to lose their place. Either that, or the border closing is kind of only for show and cross-border traffic continues even though it has been officially “closed.” I don't think that would be the case. So I began to wonder how long it takes trucks to get across the border, and if the time is measured in days.

We got back to town and she was quite hungry, as she had been running around all day trying to see the important parts of Amritsar. She still wanted to go and see the Golden Temple at night. I also wanted to see the temple at night, and so I agreed to go with her to do that. She got some dinner and then we set out at about 9. We started walking and I tried to figure out which way we should be going. I asked her where she had gone in the afternoon and she pointed in one direction. Unfortunately, according to the little map on the back of the guest house's card, that was in the opposite direction to where we needed to go. But she had gone there, so I just took her word for it. We passed up a couple of rickshaw drivers, but eventually it became clear that Zena really had absolutely no idea of where we had to go. It was a bit exasperating. At one point we passed across the train tracks and I asked if she had done that earlier. She said yes, and then she said they had crossed them again after that. So, er, you ended up back in the direction from which we just came? I don't think so. I rolled my eyes and suggested that we should get a rickshaw as I was now absolutely certain we were heading in the exact wrong direction.

And when we got in the rickshaw, and she had pestered him down to a ridiculous price to take us there, yes, we went back exactly the way we came. And Zena didn't recognize that we were doing that at all. I just sighed. The rickshaw driver got us to the temple and I gave him a little extra money, because the price that Zena had talked him into was really just too low.

Then we got ready to go into the temple. At least I did. The Golden Temple is quite a holy place and it follows the prescriptions of the Sikh faith. This includes no shoes, or even socks. And they don't want them even to enter the temple. They insist that people leave their shoes and socks at the depository outside the temple grounds. I didn't realize that they wanted my socks as well and had put them in my pocket, until I was told to hand them in as well.

But Zena had described her visit during the afternoon to me. She said that the way to the temple had water all over and she didn't like her feet being wet. She was going to keep her flip flops and put them in her bag and then when nobody was looking she was going to wear them into the temple to avoid the water. I hadn't really understood what she meant by water everywhere, but I assumed it would come clear. And I assumed she was going to run into trouble with her plan because it quite clearly says in several places that shoes and socks are forbidden in the temple. But I wasn't going to argue, both because it hadn't done any good up until then to try and point things like that out to her or to reason with, and because it was becoming increasingly clear to me that she was a lunatic.

Another part of the Sikh faith is that all visitors are to cover their heads. As we headed into the temple there were touts who were selling head coverings. I bought one just because I thought it would make a nice souvenir afterwards. I remembered reading that there were a bunch of freely available ones at the entrance, but I was going to be able to keep this one, and that was nice.

As we approached the entrance area, predictably Zena was stopped by the guards and asked where her shoes were and if she had put them in the shoe depository, where her deposit tag was. It took a few moments to work that out, and she somehow was allowed to keep her shoes on her person, which I am not entirely sure how she managed. But she grumbled about how unfair they were. Um, it's a part of the religion and as guests we are probably best to try and respect that?

And then the bit about the water being everywhere became clear. And this just served to convince me even more that she was off her rocker. There were little shallow pools of water in front of the entrance. All people going in were to step through the pools to wash their feet off. So, of course your feet are going to get wet, you silly cow. I just sighed.

We went and I beheld a most amazing sight. I am so glad I decided to eat and take my time that afternoon. I found the sight of the Golden Temple to be so striking at night. I'm glad that was the first glimpse I had of the structure. (And I was backed up by that thought the next day when I did see it in the daylight. It was far more impressive lit up in the night. This is not to say that it wasn't impressive in the daylight as well. It was just more impressive at night.)

The temple is set in the middle of a man made lake. It is gilded in gold plated copper. There is a walkway out to the temple through a gate at what I think was the north end. But I am not entirely sure of what direction was which, so don't quote me. The pool is called the Holy Pool of Nectar. At the far end of the pool a deformed man was cured of all his ailments after bathing in a spring by a tree. The tree is still there and afterwards people began to dig a pool that was filled by the spring. Now people come to bathe in the pool and it supposedly heals them of their ailments.

The pool is surrounded by a marbled path where it is possible to walk. A building surrounds the walkway. There is a kitchen where food is prepared and served to all who come and wish to eat. There is no charge, although donations are naturally happily accepted.

Across from the entrance gate for the temple, there is a large building. In there, holy men of the Sikh faith sit and read from the Sikh scriptures.

We had arrived at about 10 in the evening and this is just at the time when the holy book, which sits in the temple during the day, is removed to its place of safekeeping for the cleaning period 10 until about 3 am. This meant there were not that many visitors to the temple, although it was still open. So we were able to go right into the temple and look around. We watched them doing the cleaning of the temple walls, floors and decorations. It seemed to be a lot of work, but they were all very friendly and helpful. And despite the signs all over that said there were to be no photographs inside the temple (as is usual for temple-like places), Zena kept taking photos, often in full view of temple attendants. They didn't say anything, but their expressions made it clear they didn't really appreciate it. The lunatic.

Afterwards we walked back around to the entrance and headed back to the guest house.

It is an amazing place and if anyone ever comes to this city, this is a must visit.

My visit to the Golden Temple let me know something. While I have been feeling somewhat disconnected of late from India and my experience of it, I suspect it was simply my reaction to the crassness and money-hungryness of the Golden Triangle area. For now that I am out of that area and well away from Delhi, I once again find such sights to be a marvel. It is good to know that I am not quite over the impact of India.