Early Sunday morning, Simran, Jenny, and Hank arose early and went to morning prayers.  The rest of us, along with a few thousand others, went later. The line was long, hot, and packed, but worth it.  It's impossible to describe the richness of the inlaid marble, painted plaster, and ceremonial artifacts.  Photography is not allowed, of course, so I'll just have to hunt up some souvenir images.

I really wanted a photograph of one particular outfit.  Traditional garb in a deep blue/purple, an elaborate turban braided with a deep orange colored scarf, and a sash of the same orange.  At last one such dressed man was standing isolated.  Just as I took the shot, up popped a face.  Look closely and you'll see the orange part of the man's turban on top of her head:



Another group of boys cornered Tommy, who day-by-day attains the status of a rock star.  I promised to post the photograph:

Sunday lunch at the Golden Temple, along with about 2,000 others.  As people line up (well in India, I guess, congregate would be a better word) each is provided with a metal divided dish, a metal cup, and a spoon.  As soon as the hall is cleared and mopped down from the previous sitting, the doors open and we take our places.  We sit cross-legged on the floor, in long rows on equally long mats, flush with another row of diners, back to back, our trays in front of us.  I don’t know what the term is for the people who distribute the food, but they walk up and down the aisles with baskets of rotis, or pails of dhal or vegetable curry, ladling the food onto our dishes, and filling our bowls with water.  They keep handing us rotis and ladling food until we sign that we’re sated.

As we are ushered out, the room is prepared for the next group.  Water is thrown on the marble floors, and someone with a device that’s like a mammoth squeegee, pushes the water, food spills, etc., to the sides, mats are replaced, and the doors are opened for the next 2,000 diners.  24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and all provided free.

On our way to the train station to leave Amritsar we stopped at a material shop.  As we entered we removed our shoes and stepped onto what seemed like a thin mattress covered in muslin.  We sat in a circle as the material was thrown on the floor.  Each package contained three coordinated pieces of fabric: one for pants, one for a top, a third for a scarf.  Here we are, trying to pick from an incredible range, followed by a picture of Harvinder negotiating the price.  The material is complete with appropriate embellishments for completion of the garment.  I'll upload a detail in another blog.
 


 

We split into two parties, 6 to each autorickshaw, and Hank and I were separated which allowed me to get this prize shot:



Finally, in the ongoing documentation of our party, here's a picture of Simran's sister, Nons: