Twin Flavor American Softy

After the train pulls out of Ludhiana, I finally check out the 'western style' bathroom in between train cars - not bad! It's not as stinky as expected, probably because no waste is actually stored on the train. Down the toilet's shaft, I can see that the ultimate destination for all semi-liquids is the train track itself. Mental note: never cross train tracks on foot, ever. It seems worth noting that I've had about 3 litres of water enter my body this morning, but only 300 mL escaped. There must be some mystical passage to Narnia buried along the way in my guts.

The farmlands of Punjab enjoy a thick haze only slightly lesser than that of the big city. I'm reminded of being in a very dark place and foolishly trying to focus my eyeballs in the featureless gloom. Straining to look through the grey obscurity hovering over farmers' fields, I'm filled with the same indignant panic as one who is afraid of the dark. Why is smog so damn insulting? I hope that every low, dusty town we pass through is not Amritsar.

Ah, arrival!

Down the street is the Golden Temple, which I visited in the sticky heat of mid-afternoon. The temple itself is wicked neat - Sikhism's holiest place - I think their temples are called gurdwaras? - but the process is the best part. You go down to a little basement and give your shoes through a tiny window to a tiny man, who stands in a vast storeroom full of dirty ol' shoes. He gives you a numbered token. Trudge back to ground level, wash your hands/face in big communal sink, cross a threshold trough full of running water (make some show of washing your feet) and then enter temple grounds. The marble floor is crazy hot from hours in the sun, so I look silly hopping around before joining some wiser grandmas in the shaded edges. I'm mildly worried that my short attention span will weary of temples (mosques, churches, gurdwalas) right quick, so I'm glad to be checking out Amritsar and its Golden Temple at the very beginning of things. No regrets. It's quite beautiful.

In the past 48 hours I've received non-stop stares; this is to be expected. Surprisingly, though, people keep coming over and make a point of talking (in Punjabi or Hindi) about my earrings. They are either saying "Hey, I wish I had great earrings like you!" or "Big red earrings are for hookers!" I want to get to the bottom of this, without getting slapped.

Right next door to the temple is Jallianwala Bagh, which is a grim monument to the British Raj's legacy of assholes. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jallianwala_Bagh_Massacre. The garden and memorial is actually quite lovely and peaceful. It sort of reminded me of another place I've been, where people did horrible things to each other: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuol_Sleng_Genocide_Museum... Jallianwala Bagh was decidedly less harrowing. The solemnity was certainly broken by bands of toddlers grabbing my legs and brosephs swaggering around singing along to their shrill hip hop ringtones.

Out the open window of this internet room I can see a lot of signs, but my two favourites are "Jimmy-Jimmy Ice Cream Zone" and "Softy Parlor: Twin Flavor American Softy"... it seems I've landed in the ice cream neighbourhood! Not unlike the fabled 'cupcake district' of Edmonton's Whyte Ave. You can probably guess where I'm going next.