Visiting the Gurudwara

My boss asked me what event could possibly lure me to a Sikh temple in Renton, 25 miles from where we work and, in a stroke of good fortune, 0.5 miles from where he lives. An answer wasn't entirely clear, although because I've convinced myself that I'm not social enough, I never decline an invitation to go someplace new.

That policy has produced some duds like the frat house party full of kids -- drinking games aren't that fun when you've got six years on everyone else -- but it has also revealed some treasures. You know, like that dinner with the grilled salmon and the fancy cheese and those women I still haven't gotten back to (time's a tickin', WhatUpThen). As my boss and I rolled up to the gurudwara so he could drop me off, I shuddered at the thought of being stuck there for 3+ hours among dozens of Indians looking at me as if I were from Planet X (that, or trying to rob the place). By the end of the night, though, this invitation had fallen squarely in the "treasure" category and I feel incredible for having taken a slice of culture and learned from it.

If you missed it, a gurudwara is a Sikh temple. There's one in my hometown of Hayward, CA, on D Street although knowing that information surprises me because I've never bothered to take a second look. Outside, a couple of precocious 14-year olds instructed me to remove my shoes and showed me how to tie a scarf around my head. Indu and Harminder, I think their names were? It's amazing, even at that age, one can tell those two will be movers and shakers later in life. Those same kids laughed at me as I struggled for five minutes trying to tie the scarf behind my head but luckily, Sujot the Inviter came outside and knotted me up. Damn jackass kids. No, just kidding, they were really cool.

No seating in the main hall, just a carpeted floor for everyone to get comfortable. There was a giant shrine in the center that looked like an ornate casket sheltered by a canopy. I would learn that the shrine is essentially the word of the guru and each person, upon entering the room would approach the shrine and bow their heads in deference.

If you know me well, you know my eyes narrow when people discuss their spiritual beliefs. I'm probably oversimplifying it, but words such as 'god' and 'prayer' are like profanity to me. Sometimes I try to lend support to those of religious faith by thinking billions of people can't be wrong...but sure they can! (Please, oh please let the culinary institute be in Austin). Somehow, though, I must say that the principles of Sikhism seemed very basic and pure and even appealing. It could be that I just missed the objectionable stuff because it was spoken in Punjabi but I came away with a good sense that the people among me stood for equality, tolerance and, well...just plain grace.

The feature was an art exhibit created by Sikh youth about Sikh youth growing up in the U.S....which must be a BITCH. Between being teased for the religious headwear and being mistaken for Muslim or dealing with lowered expectations and being taken as a novelty and just not being understood, it's clear why the gurudwara is such a valued place. The main piece is similar to a cube unfolded with each panel showing imagery about school, immigration, duty and living simultaneously for oneself and for others. It's something built by adolescents so it's not a stylistic masterpiece, but one must appreciate the symbolism and messages; if ever something could explain the confusion and reassurance one feels during life, this would be it.

So, as tends to be the case, my fears were unfounded and I came out better for the experience. Who knows when I'll find myself as a guest of the Sikh temple again but this visit was enough to cement the beauty of my hosts in my mind.