A Tale of Four Temples (and a fort)

To begin this blog post like a bad high school essay, there are many emotions I have felt so far on this trip. They are:

-Hot
-Sweaty
-Awed
-Gross (from being hot and sweaty)
-Frazzled
-Amazed
-Cranky (from being hot, sweaty, and gross)
-Amused
-Annoyed
-Shell-shocked (in the mildest way possible)
-Giggly

(Please note that hot, sweaty, and gross are not actually emotions.)

Lead by our hosts, the elite students of the Shri Ram College of Commerce, today we ventured out past the university neighborhood into the more touristy sections of Delhi. These are simple, quiet streets full of serenity, with absolutely no one hassling or honking at you.

Our field trip's goal was to explore some of India's many religions: Sikhism, Jainism, Hinduism, and Islam. After the initial shock of stepping off the metro into the madness you see above, we donned headscarves and ditched our shoes for Girdwara Sis Ganj, one of the holiest Sikh temples where the Ninth Guru was beheaded by the emperor.

It's a real shame we couldn't take pictures inside most of the holy sites, because they were a-mazing. You're in absolute astonishment at the richness of the ornate altar and surroundings, the quarter tones of the singers, and the total devotion of the people who step inside. We hardly talked inside the temple, by far the most impressive one of the day.

Luckily, we had Singh, a Penn State student living in Delhi, joining us for the day, because he saved our butts in there. "No!" he hissed at us. "You can't turn your back on the altar. And you can't click." (Clicking is what they call taking pictures here.) Back outside, he instructed us on the origins and traditions of Jainism. None of the SRCC students are Sikh, so they listened just as eagerly as we did.

(The dude at the top of the post is a Sikh in traditional dress.)

Around this time, my friend Ana (you can see her at the right edge of the last picture) elbowed me and raised her eyebrows. "The guy in blue," she said, nodding to the bench where men were retrieving their shoes. "He's extremely attractive." We both made like typical college girls and giggled like goons. Remember this story for later.

Off we went to the Hindu temple, where we again took off our shoes and ascended into a cool, but still rather freaky, assembly of the various Hindu gods on altars. I was particularly creeped out by what looked like a giant aluminum-foil-wrapped baked potato with eyes (I swear I didn't mean to make that pun). "It is the god Ganesha," said one of the SRCC girls, coming up next to me. For you non-Hindus out there, that's the god with the elephant head and human body. I'm sorry, but this evil baked potato was a pretty poor representation of an elephant.

The more accurate, non-baked potato god.

Perhaps to counter Lord Tater, a smiling old man painted a sandalwood tikka mark on my forehead and handed me a marigold with a piece of cotton, little gifts from the gods. There was a heady, overwhelming scent of marigolds, and I stepped around a man washing the stone floors with a hose on my way out.

Two buildings over, we were at the Jain temple. (Note, these temples are all in pretty close proximity on the same street. How's that for multiculturalism?)

Jain is the world's oldest religion and is much like Buddhism. (You visit that many temples in a time crunch, you start to see the similarities between religions.) We viewed more intricate stonework and rang various bells around the temple, the sound of which is supposed to purify the air and one's mind. I don't know about that; I'd be pretty irritated if bells kept interrupting my prayers. There was also a bird hospital, and those of you that know me know that this wasn't my favorite thing on the planet, but I survived the claustrophobic land of many birds. Some of the girls found a talking parrot and were cooing at it, which caused the Jain SRCC student to fly at them, screaming, "Lord Mohar [founder of Jainism, dead for thousands of years] would not like you to make all this noise in a hospital!"

As we left the temple, Ana grabbed my arm and pulled me aside. "Remember the attractive guy in blue?" she asked in a low voice. "Three o' clock." Yep, there he was. Funny, I had seen him at the Hindu temple as well as the Sikh one. "I think he's following us," she said.

We alerted the SRCC students, who started murmuring and shooting looks at the man. Ana and I exchanged worried, yet proud glances. We were observant! We were looking out for the rest of the group! Surely word would get around that we had saved everyone's lives and wallets.

Until word got around to Singh and he started laughing. Hot Guy in Blue, along with three other men we hadn't noticed, were his bodyguards.

We then took a pause in religious instruction to visit one of India's historical sites, the Red Fort, looming at the end of the street.

This is massive, dating from the 17th century, built by the Shah Jahan (the dude who also built the Taj Mahal, in case you've heard of that). It used to be surrounded by a moat, and inside the walls are a market, gardens, a small military museum, and various other buildings that I really can't tell you more about. (Update: this website seems to be helpful.)

Around this time we started getting hungry, hot, tired, and cranky in various stages.

Or, in Maryrose and Ana's case, all of those at the same time.

 Lunch was in order, and we went to a restaurant specializing in South Indian food. Everything was delicious, but the only name I remember is pab bhaja, a dish of various vegetables stewed together and served with bread for dipping. (Lunch was a lot of dipping.) We all sighed at relief at how wholesome it was until we realized that ours was served with a healthy pat of butter. Don't be surprised if I come back from India in a Hover Round.

Our final stop, one life-threatening, rickety rickshaw ride away, was the Jama Masjid, a historic mosque. This was my favorite building from the day:

Unfortunately, this is the only view we got of the temple, as we were denied entry by a rude man who told us that our T-shirts were unseemly and that we had to have our arms covered to enter the mosque. So, to irritate him, we took lots of group pictures on the steps. I think we succeeded in our mission.

I would like to add at this point that we did spot a Baptist church on the same street, but considering I see one every day at home when I drive home from town, I didn't really consider this picture-worthy.

Our final adventure of the day came when the rickshaw carrying Ali (above, middle) and Drea didn't show up at the Metro station. There were frantic phone calls and waiting around, and our Penn State chaperone, Dr. Stoller, threw up his hands and shrugged. In the end, it was a minor misunderstanding. The rickshaw driver had taken Ali and Drea to the next stop up.

Ali started giggling madly when we had finally found here and were waiting for the next train home.

"What?" I asked. "What are you laughing at?"

"This...life.." she managed to get out, and we all laughed, too.