Bordering Pakistan

I visited the Golden Temple once more and was able to get inside this time. It is decorated in gold and chandaliers. The first floor was so crowded. A fat guy lost his balance and his heel ended up on my big toe (remember, no shoes). I was given a forearm in the back by several old ladies. I tried to pray, but that's a tough task when you're getting roughed up. The second floor harbors the Sikh holy book. Seeing it is one of those moments where electricity runs through you. The top floor was largely in the open, but had something else holy indoors. I don't know what that was. On my out of the complex, a Sikh man who had been living in Los Angeles came up to me. I could actually understand his accent! But he was so soft-spoken, I couldn't really hear him. He told me that he's come back to India indefinitely because America is too rush rush. India is more peaceful for him. We all have our own definitions of peace.

Later, I went to the Attari (India)/Wagha (Pakistan) border. The rickshaw ride out there was a teeth chattering one, but the roads were still better than in Baltimore. At the border, they have a ceremony every day. It's like a college football rally. Except the stakes are war. Indians on one side, Pakistanis on another, chanting for their side. Then, the gaudily adorned soldiers do a bunch of high stepping and then goose step up to the border and puff up their chests in an act of machismo. It was very weird. I couldn't tell if this was a productive way to let off steam or an excercise that could exacorbate tensions. I met a Korean woman, who studied in America, there and she said, perhaps North and South should have a ceremony like this.

For dinner, the Korean woman and I ordered two dishes to share. One was fish curry. The other was brain curry. Mutton brain curry to be exact. Brains are salty.