Culture Shock!

It's been two weeks since my last post and, as I mentioned before, I've been travelling since – mainly around the Rajasthan province – and since then so much has happened and so much has changed. Before I came to India one of my closest friends, Marco, who grew up with me in Mozambique and who’d already been to India not too long ago, tried to prepare me for what was to come, for something that he hadn’t been prepared for and for something that he could not prepare me at all, although to his credit he did try vehemently. Marco my friend, after these past two weeks I finally understand what it was you were trying to convey. Here follows an account of my first experience with the “Real India”.

December started well enough, a clear blue sky with nice warm weather and the safe arrival of Thomas and his girlfriend Laura, who for the past eleven months have been travelling around Asia in, what is planned to be, a two to three year trip around the world. Thomas and I go back almost ten years now and ever since I’ve known him he’s been preparing for this trip and so, as you can imagine, having him with us on our trip throughout India was doubly fortunate.

The 1^st of December was spent catching up on news, swapping stories and resting up for the big trip we had ahead of us the following day – a six hour train ride to the city of Amritsar. I was incredibly excited, in fact we all were, and I had everything planned to the finest detail – a habit of mine that those who know me well cherish and tease me for to no end. It seemed nothing could go wrong; I had planned for everything… for everything but that Life-long truth, that Plans have a habit of changing, regardless of your say in the matter. In India I discovered that this is more often the case than not.

Looking back on our entire trip, that first journey we took on December 2^nd, from Delhi to Amritsar, was remarkably uneventful – with the exception of Allison getting her leg stuck in the gap between the subway-train and the platform while exiting to Delhi Station. Luckily, despite an ugly bruise, she came out it unharmed. Having read all sorts of articles and having heard all sorts of stories about riding trains in India, I painted a rather dark portrait of what to expect from our six hour long train ride. Imagine our surprise when, not only was our train immaculately clean and amazingly comfortable but also, we were offered the daily newspaper in English and four meals – mid-afternoon snack, tea, dinner and dessert – all evenly spaced throughout the entire trip. Thomas and Laura wouldn’t stop commenting that compared to their regular train rides, they were being thoroughly pampered. If you ever plan on visiting Amritsar and if you plan to travel in comfort, be sure to book the tickets on the Shatadbi Express. A two way ticket cost each of us around Rs.1400, which is roughly €25. We arrived at our destination at 23h00, only twenty minutes late, and here began my introduction to the “real India”.

Now, before carrying on, I must point out that when you’ve spent the first two weeks in a third-world or developing country, sheltered in a suburban neighbourhood of its capital, you’re bound for a shock once you set foot on the platform of a train station in a small city hidden over three hundred miles away. Marco had told me that no amount of years spent in Maputo could have prepared him, nor would they prepare me, for what lay in wait. As we walked towards the station’s exit we passed by, stepped over – and sometimes on – people sleeping on the floor, covered with whatever they had with them, some waiting for the next days’ early train the rest simply because the station provided a roof and the amount of people provided body warmth. The ten minute drive from the station to our hotel wasn’t much better. Despite the city being immersed in darkness, if not for the occasional little fire lit by the side of the road with four to five people surrounding it, we could see well enough that poverty was a way of life in this place and the concept of hygiene was millions of miles from being remote to ours.

We arrive at the Hotel Heritage Inn and I’m instantly reminded of how gullible humanity can bem, as I realize that this place looks nothing at all like the pictures advertised online and for the first time during this whole trip I begin to feel a sense of dread creeping in. To say that this place looked unkempt would be a severe understatement, however this wasn’t what worried me. According to online reviews this is one of the best places to stay in Amritsar – getting your money’s worth and what not – and it was too late in the evening to go looking for another suitable option. Before I could voice my worries though, Thomas, Laura and Allison all commented that for India’s standards this place was actually quite nice! I was shocked but decided to put my worries and fears aside and just wing it for this first night – “It’s an Adventure Charlie Brown!” – and if need be, come morning we could always go look for someplace else. After basically bullying us into paying an advancement for the first night – something that had not been agreed upon or mentioned for that matter when I reserved the rooms four weeks earlier – the hotel concierge showed us to our rooms where after settling in, ignoring the dirty walls, filthy bathrooms, the ant ridden floor, the hairs on the bed – and on my part accepting that no amount of bitching and whining would make the situation any more pleasant – we all proceeded to forget all these unpleasantries by emptying three bottles of wine and focusing on more positive subjects well into the early hours.

The next day began in the early afternoon and, seeing as Laura was feeling a bit ill and Thomas was playing nurse, Allison and I went exploring, allowing for me to be dealt yet another blow of culture shock, as we were suddenly surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of people in the small winding streets of Amritsar. From hagglers to simple Sikh worshipers on their way to Golden Temple, it felt like we were coursing through a sea of people who would stop in their tracks to either stare at us, take pictures of us, some with a look in their eye that said they were contemplating whether they could – never mind should – touch us, all the while being blasted from every side with what I came to recognize as some of the common haggler greetings: “Huh-low”; “Yes please!”; “No buy, only look sir!” and, unique to Amritsar, the bellowing question “BORDER!?” which I’ll get to in a bit.



Streets of Amritsar



It didn’t take long to reach the Golden Temple and by now we were quite excited about going in, especially as this is one of the only two attractions that make Amritsar a city worth visiting. Known in Sikhism as the Harmandir Sahib – literally the ‘Abode of God’ – it is its holiest of shrines, however, it was built as a place for all faiths to worship God and despite the constraining feeling from all the staring we got as tourists, not once did we feel unwelcome during our stay there. The city itself owes its name to the lake that surrounds this temple, known as Amrit or ‘Holy Water’, Amritsar meaning the Pool of Immortality.



Harmandir Sahib



Not having bothered to inform ourselves about the Golden Temple in advance, we almost made the mistake of walking in with our heads uncovered – something prohibited for both women and men – but luckily we were stopped by two English girls on their way out, who pointed out where we could leave our shoes – entry into the Golden Temple also implies being barefoot – and where we could find some, for the lack of a better word, ‘head wraps’. These we found in what I can only call the ‘public head wrap bin’ where, after picking all the hairs we could from our respective head-wraps, we reluctantly wound these around our heads. Now for those who might find this a bit ‘icky’, rest assured that we witnessed a lot worse. One such example would be the feet cleansing pool at each of the temple’s entrances, where we saw one peculiar character bending down and bringing some water to his mouth. To put things into perspective, the Golden Temple is the most sought and most visited of all of India’s monuments – topping even the Taj Mahal – where on a regular week day it will be visited by over a hundred thousand people, and entrance is not allowed unless you dip your feet into these pools... at first I thought this must be some practice or proof of faith common to Sikhism, but considering I saw no one else perform this act, I think it’s safe to say that this was simply some nut.

As you walk into the Golden Temple though, you’re suddenly transported away from all this madness: the living chaos that roams the filthy winding streets, the open sewers on each side of each road, the hagglers cries and honking horns; all of this is suddenly replaced with the spectacularly immaculate white marble floors and walls of the temple, the fresh ‘cleaner’ water that surrounds the Harmandir Sahib, and the crowd that walks in an orderly circle around it, almost in silence. This place has a power over the people and you can feel it, even outside the temple where for close to a mile around it you won’t find meat or alcohol being sold, out of respect.

We visited the Temple on both the days that we were there and during the second day, with Thomas and Laura, we found out that the temple offers free meals to all travellers at all hours and everyone is served equally and in equal manner. Unfortunately we had to forego the opportunity to eat there as they feed the crowds in waves, each wave taking about an hour or so, and we were on a tight schedule due to our afternoon departure back to Delhi. I can tell you though that the food smelled amazingly and seeing all of those people working together to feed an even larger crowd – again and again – is nothing short of awe inspiring.

The other main attraction of Amritsar is actually an hour’s drive away from the city, in a little village called Wagah on the border with Pakistan, the attraction being the ‘Border Closing’ or ‘Lowering of the Flag’ Ceremony – thus explaining the constant offers of ‘Border!’ mentioned earlier. The village of Wagah stands right in the middle of the border line between India and Pakistan, dividing the village into a western and eastern part respectfully and earning the border the nick name “Berlin Wall of Asia”. It is also home to the only road border between India and Pakistan, at which every single day at sundown, for the past sixty years, a ceremony is held on each side of the border that can only be described as stunning, because that is exactly what each side seems to be trying to do – to stun each other. Although made to look like a ‘battle’ between each side the event is clearly choreographed between both sides and is extremely energetic and fast paced. Both security forces on each side march from place to place with the severest look on their faces and the fact that each of these men are no shorter than 6ft2in – on the Indian side we saw one security officer that stood close to 7ft in height – makes them look that much more intimidating.

Unfortunately we’d once again failed to inform ourselves properly about this event and so, by the time we took off for Wagah it was already quite late. Our driver, who was called Happy and turned out to be a miracle worker, managed to get us there in time for the ceremony but, although he tried, he couldn’t get us there in time to find a place inside the actual border. This resulted in Allison and I having to climb up and hang from some rails that allowed the best view possible – which is to the say the less bad one – and we were pleasantly surprised to find the two English girls who’d helped us earlier at the temple, hanging from the same railing. For those who plan to visit Amritsar, and the whole of India for that matter, learn from our mistakes. Try and inform yourselves as much as you can about what you want to visit and, regarding the Border Closing Ceremony, I’d suggest leaving for the border at least 2 hours before the ceremony starts. You might have to hover around for an hour or so, but at least you’ll get good seats.

Veg Thali

The rest of our stay in Amritsar was spent pretty much at meals times in a cosy little restaurant we found hidden away in one of the busier areas close to the temple, enjoying what was without a doubt the best food we had this trip, or walking around looking at the local shops which give you an idea of why the city – and most places in India for that matter – looks so poor. Wherever you go in Amritsar you’ll pass by a number of shops and any stretch of road will have over ten shops lined up, all selling the same product. Thomas took to calling places like these “Same Shit District” because that is all you could find. It makes one wonder how anyone makes a living at all, as a lot of these shops don’t offer basic need products – one such road sold only bathroom appliances. It doesn’t seem like these people can make a living, it stands to reason that most of these shops should have closed long ago, but the truth is life still goes on and it doesn’t seem it’ll change in the near future. If anything this is what best characterizes India, and it took me longer to accept this than I now wish it had.

In retrospect, even with all bad things considered, I was extremely fortunate to have visited Amritsar with Allison, Thomas and Laura. If anything they’re the reason why I didn’t assume that every single place we visited from there on out would be a disappointment or present nasty surprises. This is India, and the sooner you learn to accept that it’s its own country and it has its own way of running things, that you’re better off just accepting what you’re presented and going with the flow, you’ll find the trip a lot more enjoyable. Marco, I do understand what you were trying to explain and I do empathize in many ways, but at the same time I was fortunate to have people with me who helped me open my eyes to the beauty hidden behind all the ugliness. Perhaps in some near or distant future you’ll come back to India and be as fortunate as I was these past two weeks.