Amritsar continues

"hot" is a relative term i think.
for example "hot water" may mean anything from not freezing to lukewarm to boiling.
however, so far, my places of rest for the night have only managed not freezing to lukewarm.
that is.
until.
the lucky guesthouse of amritsar.
(as in its called lucky)
god bless this establishment for they have given me my first true hot (i.e. near boiling) bath water in a week.
and i hadnt even realized i missed it.
but after the first hiss of heated pain (and my skin screamed for mercy)
i felt so bloody wonderful i started skating that line between pleasure and pain for a good twenty minutes.
yes this is wasteful.
im aware.
go away.
it was hot and i was happy.
i dont ask for much.

michiko did eventually show up that night, after my scalding, as i lay in bed dozing and dreaming of strange orange men jumping off cliffs.

day 2 in amritsar took us to the golden temple.
heads appropriately covered and shoes removed and stored -
we made our way in following a rinsing of the feet.

the golden temple is a sikh holy place with oodles of marble and real gold plating.
and half naked old men swimming in the pool.
its beautiful.
truly.
look it up.
its also dangerous.
i watched a woman slip and fall on the wet marble and michiko witnessed another woman, carrying an infant, come crashing to the ground as well.
you've been warned.
otherwise.
chanting and praying are the way to go.
they did allow non-sikhs to enter the main temple (that golden one) and i always feel terribly awkward about such places.
im grateful to be allowed entry at all, but im outsider not only by nationality, but spirituality as well.
were i a sikh american...
well the religion holds the stronger bond.
and despite my litte bit of research and preparation prior to this trip - the extensive spiritual options, possiblities, and realites of india are far too widespread for my feeble brain to keep track of.
were i even given several lifetimes.
and so.
try my best not to tread on any toes or bowing hands and keep a low profile.
and dont take any photos.
they yell at you.
and look mean.
i've warned you now.

following the temple of gold (how many ways can you say it?)
we walked the short distance to jailanwalah bagh (please forgive any mispellings).
the massacre site of peacefully gathered indians prior to independence from britain.
dont ask me the year.
somewhere between 1910 and 1940.
i do however know the name of the general who ordered it.
full out shooting without warning. not a very nice man.
general dyer.
yes i know im good.
he died of stroke i believe. much later.
safe in england.

they have it all pretty like now. a garden type set up.
flame memorial.
and most importantly.
there are trashcans.
with advertising stating "use me" -
yes.
please do.
use it.
use it good.

an aside now to consider the trash of india.
its disgusting.
i refuse to mince words.
truly.
i cant stand it.
i walk along the streets behind some woman, man, or child as they consume whatever it happens to be they are consuming and there it goes...
the bit of plastic or paper floating gently to the ground.
an autumn of litter.
my heart all but stops.
it takes all of my will power to refrain from both screaming at them in rage and picking up the offending piece of litter (because that would mean touching all the other disgusting mess on the ground and besides - where the hell else would i put it?)
oh... its already been a thousand occasions that i have had to witness this.
ive experienced the same in mali
and it never, ever, gets any easier.
i can't even bring myself to commit the crime.
ive carried my trash in pockets and my pack until a suitable container appears.
though i know in the end said container will simply be dumped in the corner down the street.
the holy cows need to eat you know.
michiko has taken to grabbing whatever it is im hording and tossing it out the window herself.
it pains me so.
i have to look away.

so the fact that i actually came across not only a green space, but a green space free of trash, and an actual trashcan
still boggles the mind.
joy. pure joy.
there.
this is my religion.

another note.
because in amritsar it happened repeatedly.

in the midst of my hunt for michiko the previous day i actually spent an hour in this mini memorial park sitting about, off to the side.
my skin.
mi piel.
happens to be light.
astounding.
but it carries great powers you see.
powers (supposedly of beauty) that i will never understand.
but perhaps this is because i am (again supposedly) privileged to have it.
to be a white woman.
ive never liked or wanted the term.
in fact (and i think i went on about this in some old rant/blog) i have purposefully fought against it.
denouncing my physical whiteness.
as if accepting it would deny my heritage.
whatever - thats a side note.
in this part of the world.
and particularly in amritsar i felt it.
i was beautiful for my white skin.
at first i thought it was a teenage boy/young male thing.
wanting to be with the white foreign chick.
they would come up in twos or threes or fives.
asking to take 'snaps' (aka photos) with me.
they would pose with their arm around my shoulder (i didnt particularly care as long they werent touching anything else) and in return id demand a photo of them.
and theyd pose in their tight pants, trying to look sexy-cool.
but then married couples would arrive and women with their small children would want to shake my hand...
i could have started a queue.
demanded payment.
they would have paid!
im sure of it!
they all glittered and shined!
they had money.

it was all good fun my first day in amritsar.
i could laugh along with them and smile in photo after photo.
but then that following morning, at the temple -
a group of half a dozen women surrounded me on the slick marble of the compound.
an older of the group, with her graying-orange tinted hair took my hand and stroked it gently saying 'beautiful' and all the girls smiled.
my heart broke a little -
"but i think you are all beautiful"
and they were - with their dark skin and bright smiles and pink and blue sequined cloth.
one younger girl possibly translated -
a guess because some others suddenly appeared shy and shared little giggles.
and so i tried again, just to be clear.
with gestures and saying "beautiful" over again.
they laughed a little and shook their heads in that funny way ive seen.
and i was at a loss.
furious.
and at a loss.

what has led this world and many others ive encountered and even others ive only heard of to
so admire light skin?
to revere it?
and, at times, to worship it.

and so it continued on as i revisited the memorial park on day 2 of amritsar.
by then the anger lingered and i decided to henceforth refuse photos.