Monday, July 11, 2011

Amritsari Whiplash

Amritsar is located in the northern most part of India along the Pakistani border. In total, we spent 21 hours in Amritsar, of which 13 or so were spent awake and exploring.

Upon arrival to the Amritsar Station, we were greeted by Mr. Bubbles --a tall and regal white-haired man-- who happens to be the General’s older brother.
He transported us to the Tourist Guest House, where he and his wife live in semi-retirement. There we meet Mrs. Bubbles. Like myself, she is fair-skinned and dark-haired. She noted that many northern Indian women (Punjabi women) look like us. We held a brief conversation over a cup of chai, and then we were escorted to our room. “Okay, see you at 5:30am!” Said Mrs. Bubbles.

As instructed, Meli and I were up and ready to go by 5:30am. Accompanied by the Bubbles and their adopted grandchildren, Arti and Sahrov, we set out to the Golden Temple. While we missed the sunrise ceremony, I was incredibly moved by the beauty of the temple and the fervor with which people prayed. It was a lovely break from the hustle and bustle of the city that at times muffles the sounds of chants and the sense of spirituality that is characteristic of India.



“Amritsari food is unlike any other cuisine in Ind
ia.” We heard this repeatedly from our coworkers. The Bubbles agreed and promised to give us a Gastronomic Tour of Amritsar during our flash visit. To start, we had a traditional Indian breakfast composed of puris (a puffed-up, fried tortilla of sorts), chaana (chickpeas), mango chutney, sweet lassi, and an Indian pancake... I can happily report that the rumors were true. Much of it was deep fried, but delicious. This meal alone induced a food coma. Contrary to what my physician would suggest, I took a short nap once we returned to the guesthouse.


After awaking from my food coma, Mr. Bubbles helped us organize a cab that would tran
sport us to the India-Pakistani Border where they perform Wagah Border Ceremony. This tradition started in 1959 and consists of a celebration of patriotism and the lowering of the flags. It was unreal to think we were so close to Pakistan. At one point in the ceremony, the gates are opened momentarily; only long enough for a handshake between an Indian and Pakistani solder. In addition to the many thoughts that crossed my mind related to patriotism, gendered segregation (men were seated in one area and women in another), and unequal treatment (tourist were given their own section where we enjoyed of wiggle room), I was captivated by the cheerleader, or the master of ceremonies. With the lift of a finger he would command the attention of the Indian public and inspire them to cheer ever so loudly... our cheerleaders could learn a thing or two from him. lol


The ceremony ended at sundown and we head back to the guest house for dinner.
I wish I had photographed my meals, but I was too busy eating them- so I apologize. For dinner I had the most exquisite deep fried fish, with chaana, paneer pakoras, roti, and a mango fruit salad. My chubbies were so happy, but they were feeling sooooo fatty-fat (as Anita says lol).


Our trip concluded with a late night talk with the Bubbles, and an early train ride back the next morning. I am still recovering from the whiplash. Thank you Mr. & Mrs. Bubbles for the hospitality! :)