India

The streets were dead, for once. No lights, no cars, no nothing as I trotted along in search of my apartment. I was 12:30 at night and the market gates were shut. This created a major problem seeing that my apartment was located on the other side of the market and walking around would be long and bound to get me lost. I was on my way home from the train station and was just ready to be in bed. I had being fighting for a ride home since the second I got off the train.

“350 rupee sir, only!” they would yell. Now, I was tired, but this was not worth that much.

“No way, 80 only, no more.” I answered. This was always followed by a rickshaw driver laughing or shooing me away with his hands. I continued to walk in search of a simple cheap ride home. Finally I found a man going near my apartment and I hitched a ride with him for 50 rupees. Having this cheap ride though caused me to have this little walk home.  I was worn out from my trip and ready to lie down.

Friday I left Delhi on a train destined for Amritsar, which is located in the state of Punjab. This train ride that was scheduled to be six hors would end up being over eight hours long due to the train breaking down.  At midnight I finally got to my stop and started the trek to my hotel. Not knowing the city at all would make things complicated. This city was certainly new for me, the sites, sounds, smells, everything. I decided to take a rickshaw and barter to pay 20 rupees less then he asked for. I didn’t know where my place was so I couldn’t say an appropriate price. He asked for 50 and after he quickly agreed to 30 upon my request I knew it was close. 20 seconds after I got in I was at my hotel. I could hear music blasting from inside as I walked towards the door. I checked in and asked what was going on.

“A party sir” the man said.

“A party, what kind?”

“Yes sir, a party” he replied.

I asked again for an answer on the type of party and I got the same answer. This went back and forth in confusion three times before I finally decided to see for myself. When I got to the hall, which was right below my room I saw it was a wedding party. A couch on a stage, people dressed up, and lots of food, this was an Indian wedding, and a must see for all who come to India. I wanted to go in, but I was tired and too shy to deal with the hordes of confused people. I should have probably gone seeing that I wasn’t going to be getting any sleep. When I walked into my room it was shaking. BOOM BOOM BOOM, it would beat to the sound of the music below. Because I was the only person staying at the hotel that was not at this party, I was the only one who had a problem with the bass and I would just have to deal with it.

The music finally stopped and I was able to sleep. By the time the morning came around I was ready for my adventure. First stop, the Jallianwaga Bagh, which was the spot of the Amritsar Massacre. This massacre occurred on April 13, 1919 and only lasted about 10 minutes. British General Dyer launched his 90 men on a shooting spree against unarmed civilians in the area.  In the end 379 were dead and 1100 were left wounded. This site is obviously a spot of great sadness, but I must say the area was very beautiful. The park was amazing and respectfully done. They kept the old well that 120 died in when they jumped in to avoid fire and they even marked places in the wall where bullets had hit. As soon as I got to the park though my eyes instantly hit the sky. The air was filled with paper kites being flown from every direction.  Children were on the grass and on top of buildings trying to control these gentle fliers. As soon as I began to admire the flying skills I was approached by two young men.

“You are looking well, where are you from?” the first said

“Excuse me?”  I replied in a taken aback fashion.

“Where are you from sir, and you looking well!” He said louder thinking I just didn’t hear him.”

“I am from America and what was the second part?”

“Ahh, you are looking well”

I paused and glanced at his friend. ‘Did he mean not sick or what’ I thought.

“You look smashing” The second one chimed.

“Oh!” I laughed, “well, you two as well.”

They discussed my appearance for sometime before telling me they would like to sit down and talk to me. I gladly agreed. We talked about America, India, baseball, Obama, everything. Eventually the topic got to the kites. I expressed my amazement in the kites and before I knew it I was with a little boy flying the kites. Quickly after that I was being challenged. A blue kited swarmed the sides of this boys kite that I had recently gained control of. I handed over the kite in the fear that I might ruin this boy’s kite. I turned to talked to the boy’s father as his son tried to get out of this jam. He said they fight often and then pointed toward the trees where I saw them covered in kites, like a Christmas tree. Luckily the boy’s kite survived, but I did get to see other kites plummet to the ground.

The two men that I had been talking with then asked my plans for the day. “I want to go to the border,” I told them. They then exchanged a few lines in Punjabi and then the first man, Pradeep, put his arm around me. “Brother,” he said, “Mandeep and I have decided, if you will have us, we will take you.”  I looked at the two smiling and smiled back, agreeing.

When we got outside I was quickly put on a motorcycle with these two men and the three of us swerved through the traffic going the wrong way for half of the time. When the engine stopped we were on a farm, being greeted by chickens, cows, and Pradeep’s brother. He greeted me with a huge hug and as he asked where I was from. I finished this conversation, and was greeted by another man, Pradeep’s father, with an even bigger hug. He didn’t speak English so Pradeep translated. Pradeep’s father was trying to offer me milk from his very own cows; I had fallen in love with yet another Indian Family.

We then walked through their farm to a fence that marked the border of Pakistan. A land that I have always dreamed of going, a land that’s history is shared with India until the late 1940s when the two become two became a lot less common, on everything.

Watching the sunset from the edge of this farm looking at a totally different country was as breath taking as anything I had seen yet. I could have stayed there for along time if the sun would have just set a bit slower. But it didn’t so we had to jump back on the bike and head to another point in the border. This part a little more populated. The Wagah Border is the walk through border between the two countries and is a perfect destination for someone like me. As I approached the border, people ran to get a seat and songs were being sung. I passed through the gate and was engulfed in a sea of people- mouths full of song, hands full of flags, and eyes full of joy. The first think I thought was, “and they do this everyday!”

The border closing ceremony is basically a dance party for Indians and Pakistanis alike. You will be cheering and dancing then you realize that on the other side of a small gate Pakistanis are doing the same exact thing. As the dancing ends as the sunsets the ceremony begins. Guards march, scream, and pump up the crowd as the two sides change their flags for the day. This daily ceremony marks the closing of the border and is a great way to see the patriotism of both India and Pakistan. This outing really got me close to Pradeep and Mandeep and as well headed towards my hotel we discussed how we would miss each other and how we had enjoyed each other’s company. Feeling more comfortable around me, they then hounded me with questions about studying in North America. See both of their dreams are to study in Canada while being taxi drivers and then when they could, “stand up” they would take a wife (hopefully an America one they said). As we pulled in front of my hotel we exchange contact information and promised to meet again. These two really made my trip something to remember.

I woke up the next day instantly realizing that today was going to be a bit different because of one thing, my attitude.  Being in Delhi I have gotten use to the stares, handshakes, and photos, in fact I have enjoyed them very much. I love the interaction and the chance to hear and share stories. This area is not as heavily traveled by foreigners so everything that happens in Delhi was multiplied by four and today I was not in the mood. I didn’t want to be stared at and I certainly didn’t want to be talked to either, I had no idea why. I thought about staying in, but I knew there was one last thing I needed to see.

The golden temple is one of the most famous Sikhs temples and is covered in gold and surrounded by water.  I knew I wasn’t going to stay here long because of the huge crowds. So, I checked my shoes and socks in and washed my feet and hands as I applied the bandanna to cover my hair (all Sikh temple requirement this). I then walked in and the first thing I noticed was the hundreds of men bathing in their boxers in front of everyone. The temple was truly amazing the way the light blazed on the shimmering gold.  The thing that I love about the Sikh religion is the music. At every Sikh temple there is always music. This is because this is how they recite their holy text. The religion was set up that way so they play through the holy book and then repeat.

After I took a quick lap around the temple I become too overwhelmed by the people and decided to spend my last hours relaxing in the park, but the people of India had a different plan. A minute after I sat down people started to sit near me. Usually I would take the hint and start up a conversation, but once again, today I was not feeling up for it. Eventually, one of the teenagers got up the guts to say hello. He shook my hand and asked for a photo. I regret agreeing to this because as soon as the others saw they rushed over for their handshakes and photos. It bugged me for a while, but something eventually snapped in me and adjusted my attitude. That Sunday was the most photos I have ever had taken of me, more then all of my high school dances combined. I was super tired, but I figured ‘hey I can sleep on the train.’ So in the end what I was dreading the most became a good way to end my weekend.  I saw the border, got to feel like a movie star, saw the Golden Temple, saw the Jallianwala Bagh, and made new friends. What more could I ask for.

Needless to say I eventually found my way back to my apartment and went right to sleep. It was up bright and early in the morning though for work and the cycle continues. I go to work tired and the children give me the energy to go on and repeat.  I just hope the children are extra keen to learn this week because I have an even larger amount of work on my plate.

Pakistan

Party at the Wagah Border

Welcome to India- in Punjabi, English, and Arabic

My new friends- Mandeep and Pradeep

Trying to find our bike.