Tuesday October 23rd
Great teaching day today. The students here are focused, engaged and attentive. In the states, we are competing against their phones and laptops constantly. It can often feel like I’m teaching into an empty void of inattention. In India, every single set of eyes are focused on me. They might be daydreaming and ignoring every word I say, but at least they LOOK like they’re listening. They take notes. WITH PENS AND PAPER. They answer open-ended questions thoughtfully and ask great questions when given the opportunity. THEY STAND UP WHEN PROFESSORS ENTER THE ROOM. It’s a 180 degree shift from what I’m used to. Obviously, there is a part of me that sees the shadow and negative side to such respect and deference. I understand all too well how that can be unhealthy and toxic, but for now—I’m just deeply appreciating that I have their undivided attention. It gives me a much better opportunity to engage more deeply with them and learn from them when they aren’t responding to snaps or choosing which selfie filter accurately depicts the state of their disinterest during my lecture. Also, if they’re late—they get locked out of class. So guess what? THEY SHOW UP ON TIME. I’m seriously contemplating putting some of these practices into place when I return to class.
On the teaching side, I’m super fond of the break we take midmorning. The head of the communications department ushers us professors into his office and a waiter brings us cookies (biscuits) and masala chai. Sometimes they bring us little samosas with this spicy ketchup. It’s a delightful little break and gives me just the pick me up I need to go back in and finish lecture. We get to learn about each other and talk about our professional careers. During one break, we were exchanging Lightroom techniques and tricks. Unfortunately, they’re mainly using Final Cut Pro X and we were unable to help as we love our Premiere Pro editor too much.
In the afternoon, we board our buses and take another LONG bus ride to the Virasat E Khalsa or Museum of Sikh Heritage in Anandpur Sahib.
It’s hard to explain how incredible this place is. First, the architecture and surrounding grounds are a photographers dream come true. We arrived a couple of hours before sunset which was perfect timing. Every Sikh Temple has a large body of water, and the museum was no exception. The light was soft and created the best reflective photography opportunities that everyone tried to capture.
When we arrived, there was a long line of teenage girls likely on a school field trip and we were a tourist attraction in and of ourselves. “Selfie please miss?” “Selfie ma’am” I took more group photos and selfies with strangers in that parking lot than I think I’ve taken in my entire life. It was very cute. I wonder what the captions on their Snapchats said that night. “Saw Sasquatch white woman on field trip today. #Fieldtrip”
Inside, the experience is like taking a walking tour through the It’s Small World ride at Disney World PLUS a museum with everything from Holograms to animatronics to breathtaking art installations that use light and sound and words in ways I’ve never seen before. Photography and video are prohibited, but here’s a video from someone who clearly didn’t care about that rule.
Sikhs spend their lives developing five fundamental qualities meant to reunite or merge them with God: truth, compassion, contentment, humility and love. Without the museum experience however, I would not have understood how these values and practices merge with their incredible military practice. The Khalsa is a spiritual military collective created so Sikhs will always be prepared to defend their faith. Not all Sikhs are part of the Khalsa, but those who are wear their hair in a turban and carry a sword (among other things). I spent several hours late one night watching YouTube videos learning how to wrap a turban because I find them beautiful and fascinating. Locals told me that each town wraps their turbans a little differently. To the trained eye, you can tell which area and which Gurudwara, or Sikh place of worship, a person is from just by looking at his or her turban. Sikhs don’t cut their hair ever, so the turban protects their hair and keeps in clean. Suddenly the little sticks I saw for sale at roadside vendors made sense. They use them to smooth out wrinkles in their turbans and also scratch a scalp itch they can’t quite reach! You can learn a lot more about Sikh history HERE.
Punjab is directly on the border with Pakistan. The country was created in an effort to end violence between Muslims and Hindus in India after the end of British rule in 1947, but that is a drastic oversimplification of what happened and the effects. I’ve heard it described as splitting a person in two. The Sikhs were caught in the middle and are ironically now in charge of border control and peace on both sides of the large border fences. The opening and closing of the border gates is a huge show not unlike the changing of the guard at Buckingham palace, except way scarier since both sides have a nuclear arsenal at their quick disposal. I highly recommend Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown Season Three Episode one about Punjab to see what I’m talking about and see many of the places I visited including Shimla.
After we were finished at the Sikh Museum, we visited a nearby Gurudwara, or Sikh Temple. A giant bright white building, it is the “Master’s Seat” although Sikhs no longer have gurus. Instead, the sacred scripture is placed on an elevated throne in a central location and the architecture of the building leads to this. The most incredible thing to me is that anyone is welcome—as long as you respect and observe the rules. You must cover your hair, you must remove your shoes and wash your hands and feet before entering. This was, of course, the only day I had removed a scarf from my bag. Luckily, this particular temple had a community bag of orange bandana type square cloths that we all tied on our heads to cover our hair before entering. We paid someone to store our shoes and entered the Gurudwara up several ramps and flights of stairs.
In anticipation of the coming prayer broadcast, many people were already inside and seated around the square. With entrances on all four sides, we sort of made our way around 180 degrees and came out the other side. All Sikh temples also have a dining hall where they feed EVERYONE regardless of beliefs or religions or gender every single day of the year. This particular temple was handing out brown balls of mush that filled the palm of your hand. It was slightly sweet and most likely made of processed nuts and grains and dates. It was like a fresh, unpackaged natural protein bar. Volunteers cook and serve the meals daily and clean up afterward. Outside, the selfie parade of requests began again and I was more than happy to oblige.
Outside, there was a little market full of stalls where people sold packets of puffed wheat, guava paste, swords, bangles, steel bowls and plates and cups and cricket bats. I picked up some bangles and a turban itcher (not knowing what it was at the time) only because I couldn’t figure out how to get a knife and a cricket bat back home.
I overheard a father and son (most likely Indian, but speaking English with an American accent) arguing about the market. The son said, “I can get all of this on Amazon when I get home and I won’t have to lug in around.” And the father replied, “But you’re not supporting the local economy or THIS shopkeeper when you do that. He’s not going to package it up and send it to America—some corporation is doing that. I’m spending my money here.” So now I regret not buying the sword. I ended up buying six stainless steel bracelets for 50 rupees, or $.75. When is the last time you bought something on Amazon for $.75?