Reporting from the crossroads of Muslim and Sikh faiths and cultures... wow. It's amazing here: chaos interlaced with oasis of peace, extreme poverty, gilded in gold and beautiful colors of the saris and tunics, turbans and veils, jeans, scooters, horse carts and bicycle rickshaws. This morning I got picked up from my little hotel by my favorite bicycle rickshaw driver, one of the few with a smattering of English and didn't look as if he was going to die of fatigue, and we headed for the goldem Temple, the maximum expression of Sikh devotion. A Golden Temple floating on an enormous pool of water, teeming with huge koi and catfish, where the men do daily ablutions and cleanse their children to bless them. Turbaned men clean constantly the marble walkways and stairs... it's beauty is beyond description so I have attached some photos. Some say it rivals the Taj Mahal. I returned this evening to see it in the night lights, thousands of people milling around, eating, sleeping, chatting, praying, strolling and singing. I bought a Punjabi tunic with pants and a head scarf so I wouldn't stand out so much since I seem to attract alot of attention, for a couple of reasons: 1) I'm a foreigner and there are not many here; 2) I'm a woman alone and there are NONE of them here. Tomorrow I will go with my rickshaw wallah to his village (10 km of cycling but he insists) to meet his wife and children.
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