Our next stop after McLeod was Amritsar--the home of the biggest Sikh temple in the world, the Golden Palace. It is an amazingly beautiful sight...a literally golden temple (170kg in gold) in the middle of holy water which people cleanse away their sins in and thousands of gold fish live. Surrounding the temple are large and beautifully designed marble walkways and buildings where you can sit and take it all in. Inside the temple itself lives "the book" (original) which is now what the Sikh religion worship (as opposed to a being or a God). The Sikh religion seems to be all-encompassing and very open-minded of every other religion. They wear turbines and the women must always cover their heads (at least in the temple). Inside the temple someone sings "the book" by memory over and over which is echoed all over the grounds along with an instrument which is a mix between a lap-guitar and an accordion. We slept in a room in the Temple grounds (along with our German friend Tom who we met in our meditation course) and ate amazing free feeds of Dal, rice and chapatti every day for free. The Sikhs feed thousands a day for free by cooking in massively giant pots--it's an amazing service! We then took off our shoes, covered our heads and sat in rows on a long carpet, cross legged on the ground and held out our hands and tin plates as Sikh volunteers came around and fed us. As hungry travelers on a budget we were extremely grateful!
We also went to the border of India and Pakistan where every evening there is a flag lowering ceremony parade where both sides dress in their traditional uniforms (peacock hats and all) and march and yell and face off in a competitive but friendly ceremony. Thousands of people were there and it was very entertaining (although kindof crazy and aggressive).
Leaving Amritsar, we took a 12 hour train ride through the night to the home of the Taj Mahal--Agra. The train was a great adventure and very interesting. We took the lowest class and had bunk beds--I took top to avoid any staring or inappropriate touching while I was sleeping and Des took the bottom to play look-out man and needless to say, he didn't sleep a wink. I'm not sure if it was in order to protect me, our belongings or himself as he was earlier a victim of an attempted leg grope by an Indian man dressed up as a woman and offering him sexual pleasures--yuck! I kicked his/her hand away from Des's leg and said "don't touch him!" and then he/she came into my face and mimicked me smiling and saying "I will hurt you." It was extremely strange but we laughed A LOT about it...and it gave Des the motivation to sleep with one eye open. : )
The train smelled of urine from the squat toilets nearby our beds and every 3 minutes someone came by selling chai, Indian sweets, samosas, blankets, shalls etc. Des and I entertained ourselves with card games and sudukos (Des has mastered them and devotes hours a day to the math game).
Agra itself was a bit of a kip with more flies than I've ever seen, cow dung, pigs, monkeys, cows, goats, camels, scrawny dogs and cats (but at least no mice!) everywhere. There are constant callings on the big speakers all over the city calling the Muslims to face the right direction and pray--lovely and haunting at the same time. Because it is such a tourist attraction, we were annoyingly hounded to buy things mostly made from marble and souvenirs of the Taj or ride in carriages pulled by camels.
The Taj Mahal itself is probably the most beautiful building I have ever seen in my life. (Although stunning on the outside, the only purpose it seems to serve or has served on the inside is holding the tombs of the creator and his wife and being aesthetically pleasing).Gorgeous marble work and semi-precious stones engraved into beautiful patterns with stunning surrounding gardens, Muslim mosques and intricately designed gates. The path up to the Taj is gorgeous with the water and fountains and the building is much bigger than I expected! It's such a romantic place as apparently the creator built it after his wife (last name Mahal) died giving birth to her 14th child. Her husband was so heartbroken that he built the amazing palace in her honor, only to be over-thrown by his son and imprisoned where he could only enjoy his creation from a far away view in prison.
As we took a 4 am rickshaw in the dark the following morning, my lovely new Salomon hiking/running shoes fell off my backpack which they were tied to. As it was dark, I didn't notice until we were at the train station and so phoned the hotel once we arrived in Jaipur. Sure enough one of the staff members picked them up and kept them safe for us! He then arranged to send them with an Muslim family from Calcutta to Ajmer (near Pushkar where we are now) and after a huge ordeal of 3 days of phoning and having our guesthouse staff in Pushkar help us track them down (the family were registered in 5 different hotels)--we got them back! They sent a driver for us to collect the shoes as apparently the area where the family were staying was very dangerous and our hotel owner didn't think it would be safe for us to go. I honestly can't believe we got the shoes back (especially considering the founders could have made an easy and plentiful sum off selling them)...Hail to our good karma and those that are honest in India!
After Agra, we went to the PINK CITY of Jaipur where we saw the unbelievably beautiful AMBER palace and a wall which looked like a mini- great wall of China which ran throughout the hills. We also saw the water palace which was in the middle of a lake (great defense mechanism back in the day) and watched the sunset over the old city where all the buildings are literally pink (or terracotta).
We are now in the back-packer friendly village of Pushkar which has hundreds of temples and old run-down but character-filled buildings surrounding a holy lake. Apparently this is where the lotus landed and Pushkar was born. It is home to one of the last Brahman temples and is an extremely regimented place where there are signs telling tourists not to kiss or show affection (on that note, Des and I have found that we both feel funny even holding hands as men and women don't do that here---it is very PG. Instead, we see MEN and MEN holding hands, cuddling, tickling, hugging etc---all, or at least mostly, in heterosexual spirit--it is another cultural norm--probably to compensate or have an outlet for the affection they are prohibited from publicly displaying towards women). Anyway, signs also told us to respect the Hindu religion by not drinking, taking off our shoes 40 feet from the holy lake etc. There is no sign of any meat, eggs or alcohol here---it's a vegetarian's dream! (Even in McLeod, there were little corner closets on the street with meat being sold and stuffed into gym bags--almost hiding what was being done).
Upon arriving in Pushkar, we went down to the holy lake where a holy man approached us and took us down to the water with him where he tied red thread around our wrist, had us repeat things in his language that we didn't understand but which blessed us, our marriage, any children we may have, and all of our family members. (Which we listed off one by one). Then we threw flower petals into the holy water and he put red marks on our foreheads). We donated 60 rupees to him--around 1euro--apparently, we heard that a foolish couple gave 700 rupees EACH the week before....ouch!
We are getting very adventurous (although still very careful) with the street food here. Our favorite is Bombay mix where they use spices, lime, red onions, chilies, tomatoes, dried peas, dried rice and other little magical touches to create the most delicious snack which they serve in newspaper cones. Another favourite is the veggie burgers that they cook on the street in big wok-looking things. The burgers are either falafels or potato patties and then the add their own touch...delicious! We have been eating pomegranates and guavas which we buy off street vendors each day...they are divine. Tonight we leave for Jaisalmer...off to the desert to go on a 2 day camel trek and sleep under the stars! Can't wait!
Write soon,
Love Andrea
























