“We’re going to visit a what?” asked Allie.

“A gurdwara [gur-dwa-ra]—a Sikh [sick or seek] Temple. It means the door or the gateway to the guru,” said Anna, drinking her coffee. “You saw it when we picked you up from the airport—the big building with the spire and the gold dome. Our landlord is a Sikh. He said that they are always glad to have visitors come, and invited us to visit any time. There are two of them in our city.”

“Imagine having only to go to Canada, not India, to see a Sikh temple,” Allie said.

“Hey, everybody, we’d better leave soon—I’ve been ready to go for an hour!” Sara looked at the clock and sighed.

“OK, let’s meet me at the car in say--15 minutes.” David stood up.

“Do I have to dress a certain way?” Allie wanted to know. “You know—something over my head or around my shoulders?”

“No, they let you in just like you are,” said Anna.

“I’m nervous—what if something bad happens?” Allie wanted to know.

“You’re with us—we would never let anything bad happen to you,” Sara said, chuckling. “Besides, we’re not going to tell you anything about it until we get there.”

“That’s just what I’m afraid of—being with you missionary kids!” Allie replied.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow—this place is huge!” said Allie. The group walked through the entrance of the gurdwara and stopped in the lobby. The sharp smell of curry bit their noses.

“Yum,” said David, “it makes my mouth water. I can’t wait to eat, even though I just ate.”

“We eat here?” asked Allie. “Is it like a restaurant? I thought it was their church.”

“Well, we eat at our churches, don’t we?” Anna asked.

“Yes, but it’s usually after the service. Most people don’t come just for the food. Sh-h-—someone’s coming!”

“It’s OK—they don’t mind if you talk!” Sara explained, as a man wearing a blue turban approached them.

“Welcome to our gurdwara. Have you come to eat with us?” he asked.

“Yes,” said David.

“Have you eaten in the langar before?”

“Yes, thank you, we have,” Anna answered.

“Very good,” the man responded, and motioned toward a side door.

“What’s a langar?” Allie asked.

“It’s a kitchen that’s open to anyone in the community. The Sikhs want people to be able to see them and understand them better. All gurdwaras have them,” said Anna.

“Wow—it looks a little like a church fellowship hall,” said Allie, as they entered the room at the bottom of the stairs. “None of them are dressed like we are—they are all wearing their traditional saris and turbans.”

“I don’t see any women wearing turbans,” Anna said.

“You know what I mean, Anna—of course the men wear the turbans. Now, what am I supposed to do first?”

“You grab a tray and move down the line, taking the food you want. If you don’t think you’re going to like the food, just remember to say, “very little”. They don’t like food to be wasted. Just walk behind me,” said David.

“That’s roti, or Indian flatbread,” Anna pointed to some bread on a tray.

“I think I can eat that,” Allie whispered, “but what is that soup?”

“It’s called tarka dhal,” said Sara.

“Why aren’t you taking any of it?” asked Allie.

“Well, I really don’t care for lentils that much, but I have a big place on my tray for the kadhi—it’s chick-pea flour mixed with yogurt, and you eat it on the rice—just don’t let them see you make a face, Allie!”

“Why aren’t you taking any of those, David?” Allie asked.

“Those are Indian sweets. I’m pretty sure I’ll be too full when I’ve finished all of this. Besides, they are made with loads of honey, and they are very heavy and very sweet—much sweeter than you are used to in our desserts. Here—let’s sit at this table.”

“Wow—it must be a good summer job--kind of like working at McDonald’s,” Allie said.

“Not really,” said Anna. “All of this food is donated, and all of these people are volunteers. They cook it, serve it, and clean it up.”

“And,” said Sara, “no one gets paid.”

“Umm, isn’t that what the word volunteer means?” Anna poked her with an elbow.

“Oh, sorry—guess I wasn’t listening.”

“But why?” Allie asked.”

“Why wasn’t I listening?” Sara joked.

“No, silly—why don’t they get paid?”

“Wait—I can answer that,” said Sara. “The leaders are training the Sikhs to be volunteers—even you can ask to help out too, if you want.”

“No thanks,” said Allie. “I do enough dishes at home without being paid.”

“OK, but I wasn’t quite finished.” Sara continued. “They’re also taught to treat everybody the same, and not to think of people as having a label, like “touchables” and “untouchables”.

David pointed to Allie’s tray with his fork. “Don’t you want your food? If not, I guess I’d better eat it for you.”

“Oh, I’ll eat it,” Allie quickly shoved her fork into the chickpea dish and took a bite. “Yum—this is good. Sara was just telling me about ‘untouchables’.”

“Oh-oh—no talking with your mouth full,” David shook his head.

“Oops—don’t they allow that?” Allie covered her mouth.

“I don’t think they’d be upset, but your mommy might be; she won’t ever let you visit us again,” Anna said, laughing.

“OK, everyone, I’m going to explain about the ‘untouchables’,” Sara continued. “Picture a triangle that is sliced into four levels. The top level are priests, the next level are warriors, the third level are merchants and landowners, and the bottom level are peasants and servants. Each of those is called a caste--caste with an e—not the kind you put on a broken leg.

Now, under the triangle is another group of people who are considered so low that they don’t even get to be part of the triangle—they aren’t even a caste. They are the untouchables, and do jobs like clean the streets and clean out toilets—jobs that nobody else likes to do. If someone from a caste sees an untouchable walking down the street, he will walk to the opposite side. When you are born, you are on the level that your parents are on, and it’s very hard to get out of your level. You are always treated according to your caste.”

“It sounds kind of like slavery in the south years ago.” Allie said.

“They don’t practice it much any more. It’s officially illegal in India now, but some people treat others as if the system is still in place. That’s what the people here in the langar are trying to erase.” said Sara.

“That’s really sad, isn’t it?” said Anna. “I’m glad that they don’t follow that system now. But these people in the temple are working so hard to share, and they think that it will bring them salvation. Yet none of it matters if they have never asked Jesus to be their Savior.”

They all ate quietly. Sara finished eating first.

“Well, I’m going upstairs to look around a bit. Do you want to go with me, Allie?”

“I’m ready, Sara—let’s take our trays back.”

“We’ll be up in a bit. There’s a girl in the kitchen I want to talk to,” said Anna, leaving David to finish his food.

As they went upstairs, Sara said, “Allie, I left my camera in the car—I want to take some pictures-- be right back.”

“Ok…I’ll wait here,” said Allie. She walked over to a set of doors, quietly opened one, and peeked through the crack. She saw some people sitting on benches, and other people kneeling at the front. It reminded her of her church for a minute, but she knew that the people inside this room were not worshiping the one true God who could remove their sins.

Suddenly, she heard a noise behind her.

“Sara, look at…” But it wasn’t Sara. Instead, a tall man in a gold turban stood frowning at her.

“Rumal,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What…” She suddenly noticed the knife hanging from his side.

“Rumal,” he said again more loudly, pointing to a basket full of cloth near the door. He picked up what looked like a cloth napkin and handed it to her.

Not wanting to offend him, Allie took it. “Uh…mmm…thank you, but I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it.”

The man took it from her hand and reached toward her head. Allie squeezed her eyes shut and waited.

“You can open your eyes now. He wants you to put it on your head if you are going to go in and worship, Allie—like this,” Sara poked her head around the man, snatched a rumal from the basket, and placed it on Allie’s head. The man nodded, smiled, and gestured toward the roomful of people.

“N-N-No thank you, I’m not going to go in there,” said Allie, backing away. She turned and hurried quickly towards the langar, running right into David and Anna as they came around the corner.

“Wow—hungry again already?” Anna asked as Allie stepped back.

“What’s this?” David asked, picking the rumal off of Allie’s head.

“Well, now it’s a souvenir. I can’t leave her alone for a minute without her getting into trouble,” Sara said.

“I—I thought that man was going to cut off my hair with his knife or something,” Allie said, her voice trembling.

“Then I came along and saved her,” Sara said.

“What knife?” David wanted to know.

“You know, the ones that they wear at their side,” said Sara.

“Oh—you mean his kirpan [keer paan]?” asked David.

“Yes, that knife,” Sara answered.

“What’s a kirpan?” asked Allie.

“A kirpan,” answered Anna, “is a ceremonial dagger—a short sword that the baptized Sikh men wear. It shows that they are faithful to their religion.

“He wouldn’t have used it to attack you, Allie. He would use it only to protect himself as a last resort,” David told her.

“You said that they are baptized--how? I don’t think it would be the same as ours—a symbol of our salvation.” Allie wanted to know.

“No,” David said. “To ‘take Amrit’ is to be baptized. While a Sikh recites hymns, five Sikhs who have already taken Amrit prepare holy water for him to drink. By drinking it, he is baptized. A Sikh can be baptized at any age, whenever he thinks he is ready.”

“But women can be baptized, too,” said Sara.

“So, what were they doing in that room? I was trying to get a good look when that man appeared.”

“Like the langar, it’s open to everyone who wants spiritual knowledge and wisdom. They have a time when they read their holy hymns, and they also have a time when they’re explained. They do other things here at the temple, like give health care for those who are sick, have weddings and baptisms, teach their kids about their religion, and talk about problems that might be happening in the Sikh community. Well, any more questions? Are you all ready to go?

“I’ve definitely had enough excitement for one day,” said Allie, shivering.

“Wait—I want to get a picture of all of us in here,” said Sara. “OK, everybody, don’t move.”

“Let’s head out to the car now,” David said, after a couple of pictures.

“I talked a little bit to a girl I saw in the langar. She works at the same McDonalds that I do. I asked her if I could come over sometime to talk, and she seemed glad about that. I’d like to have a chance to witness to her,” said Anna.

“I tried to talk to a man who was cleaning tables. He didn’t seem to know much English and didn’t want to talk to me,” said David. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want to talk about his salvation in here, though. Did you know they believe that salvation comes by following three main principles: being honest in their work, meditating, and sharing with others?”

“And, in their religion, they only need to have faith, recite the name of God and remember Him for each possible moment throughout their life,” added Anna.

“Wow—this is a big mission field in itself, isn’t it,” Allie said as they drove away.

“It’s just one of many in Canada; there are so many other people groups that need someone to tell them that Jesus is the only way to God,” said David.

Also read at http://www.gfamissions.org/field-stories/