Today, we visited our first temple. It made me feel better that we were the only other westerners there. It made me feel even better when Gina was stopped by a stunning Punjabi girl who asked politely if Gina would pose for a picture with her and her mother. The temple, constructed of beautifully carved wood and stone, was adorned with horned and antlered skulls. Each May it is used for grisly animal sacrifices, the evidence of which clearly splattered across the exterior walls. Taking our shoes off, I awkwardly rang the bell overhead before being pressed through the tiny carved entryway by the Indians lining up behind us. The smell of incense was immediately overwhelming. The interior was much smaller than the exterior would lead you to believe, just a simple room with stone shrine in the middle. Ducking down below the huge stone mantle to the shrine proper, the source of the incense smoke, I lowered my head in mimicry of the Indians on both sides of me and took huge breaths of the perfumed air. After what seemed the proper amount of time, I stood, paid my ten rupee tribute and was dotted on the forehead by the temple forehead dotter, who also handed me a small pile of what looked like stale rice crispies. I pocketed these, not knowing if they were for eating or burning or some other sacred purpose, found Gina and headed back into the fresh air – feeling thoroughly at one with the universe and thoroughly pleased with myself.
Oh and, did I mention that I can see snow in three directions from the windows of our hotel that costs about the same as a Big Mac? I am a kid, it is christmas.
