persistence of memory

i spent last weekend in punjab chaperoning 19 high school seniors with cole and shonila (my host teacher). punjab, bordering pakistan, is the only indian state with a sikh majority and boasts one of the strongest economies as well. the region is rich with history; however, in india, history and the underlying tensions/implications never truly diminish.
jallianwala bagh is the site where over 2,000 indians were killed in 1919 by british officials during a peaceful demonstration that marked one of the first main events in the independence movement. without provocation, the british began firing after blocking the only entrance to the park. now the park has been converted to a lovely respite from the dustiness of amritsar. however, the eerie feeling of the massacre somehow remains. this is a picture of cole and i with two men from the fundamentalist sect of sikhism. the fundamentalists envision themselves as soldier saints and have five emblems (kakkars) to denote the brotherhood. men abstain from shaving or cutting their hair, kept twisted under the turban. only the fundamental sect still bear swords.

sikhism is the third most popular religion in india (following hinduism and islam). the religion was founded (primarily) as a protest to the caste system in hinduism by a guru in amritsar. the city is now home to the golden temple, the holiest site in sikhism. the history of the temple is tumultuous; however, now the temple is a peaceful pilgrimage site for sikhs and others alike. sikhs donate their crops (wheat, rice, etc.) and service to preparing food for over 10,000 people daily. the picture on the left captures those preparing food and those awaiting the free meal of roti and dal. unlike the secular flurry of queuing in the hindu temple in haridwar, the golden temple was truly a beautiful experience. visitors must cover their heads and discard their shoes and wash their feet before entering the temple. upon entering, we joined the groups of people circling the sanctuary which is covered in gold and located at the middle of the lake. under the eaves surrounding the walking path people slept, flies buzzing on their bodies, to avoid the oppressive heat. others took a dip in the holy waters. the chanting of the holy text of sikhism is continuously playing over the loudspeakers, read by four priests who are seated in the golden sanctuary. while we were waiting in line to enter the sanctuary, i made three small friends who guided me through the temple (the little one's nickname is "happy"). they thought that what little hindi i know was hilarious, and giggled each time i spoke. when we entered the sanctuary, the priests were surrounded by people either reading from copies of the holy book or reciting the text from memory. as we parted ways, the oldest of the three boys, pointed at me and then to himself and asked, “we are friends?” after i replied yes, he gave me his prashad (blessed/ holy food that is mix of flour, clarified butter and sugar).

the persistence of memory in india is evident in the sikh museum. (history tangent): an extremist group of sikhs overtook the golden temple in the 1980s, protesting for a free sikh state. indira gandhi sent troops into the temple, causing extensive damage. however, the caption in the museum notes that the sikhs quickly, “got their revenge,” alluding to gandhi’s assassination by her sikh bodyguards that impelled a state of emergency during which sikhs across india were gruesomely murdered.

stemming partially from this awareness of history is an intense indian nationalism. the wagah border is the perfect illustration of this fervor. each night at the indian-pakistani border there is a ceremony full of pomp and circumstance to lower the flags and close the border. picture this: thousands of people packed into bleachers, screaming not for a football or soccer team, but for their country, as a similar group gathers in the bleachers on the pakistani side.as the ceremony drew nearer, the crowd began pushing, and i thought to myself, “this is how people get trampled at rock concerts.” the guards pushed and hit people from the crowd, yelling all the while. crowd control seems impossible in a country of over a billion. and though the entire population was of course not at the wagah border, the chaos of the everyday in india is a constant reminder of the gigantic populace. following the ceremony, cole and i posed with one of the indian guards. i think he gives president thomforde a run for his money in the height department. but it could just be that stylin' hat.